Chapter 3 – Chaos, Confusion, and Comprehension

(Finale)

The sky was still dark as Michelangelo rolled restlessly in bed. Finally, giving up the notion of sleep he sat up and looked out the window. Through the branches of the trees he could just see the barn on the edge of the property. There was a dim yellow light coming through the boards. Could someone have forgotten to blow out a lantern? Didn't April say that could be dangerous? Well, he was up anyway. Maybe he'd go check it out. Just to make sure nothing caught fire. Things couldn't get much worse out here as it was, a barn burning down would probably just be the thing to make April finally snap.

He crept out of his room, pausing to peek inside Leonardo and Master Splinter's room. On one bed, Splinter's quiet breathing came from the small bundle wrapping in sheets. He turned to Leonardo's bed to find it made and empty. It looked like no one had used it at all.

"Hm."

He moved quietly through the silent house and eased the screen closed behind him. He glanced to his right, in the corner of the porch, in an old wicker chair, Leo was sitting, staring at something in his lap. He was dressed in the paint-spattered overalls he'd wore the other day, the straps at his waist, and a white t-shirt. He didn't seem to hear or notice Michelangelo as he approached. In Leo's left hand was a short hunting knife. He was in a daze, staring at the point as it scraped over and over against the soft inner skin of his right wrist; the tip of the blade running over a black tattoo. Michelangelo frowned and bit his lip. When did Leo get a tattoo? Something told him that it had something to do with Karai. Uneasiness swept through him. He shivered.

"Uh, Leo?" he asked softly.

Leo turned his head and looked up at him; turning his wrist over, hiding the tattoo. His eyes looked dark in the low light, almost black. They held a haunted far-away look within them. He blinked and they seemed to clear a bit.

"It's early," was all he said.

"Yeah," Mikey said lamely wishing he knew what to say to Leo to help him. Irritation mixed with frustration ran through him. The seconds stretched out in silence except for the crickets chirping in the thick grass. He fidgeted. "I was just going over to see if someone left a lantern lit in the barn." He paused, then when he got no answer from Leo who was now staring out across the yard with a lost expression, he said, "Could be dangerous."

"No," Leo said.

Michelangelo glanced around, confused. "April said if we left the lanterns lit in there, it could cause a fire," he explained slowly.

"No," he repeated, then, "No one left a lantern lit."

"But, I saw light from my window. It was coming from the barn."

"That would be Donatello."

"Oh, Donnie's in there?" He turned his head in the direction. "What's he doing in there?"

Leonardo sighed. It was a soft sound. If it wasn't for the fact that the morning was so still, Mikey wouldn't have caught the noise. Leo continued to stare out into the shadowy yard.

"He's in there with April," he said softly.

Michelangelo's eyes went wide. "What?"

Leonardo glanced up then back down at the knife in his hand. He set it aside. "They went in there earlier. I was sitting here when they walked down last night."

"And you didn't stop them?" Then, "Wait, you were up all night out here? Alone?"

Too many thoughts and emotions were running through Michelangelo at the moment to sort them all out. He didn't know which disturbed him more, the idea that Leo had been out here all night alone with a knife at his wrist or the fact that Donnie had taken a very distraught and tipsy April to the only secluded shelter out here and spent the night alone with her. He rubbed the back of his head. What should he do? What could he do? His eyes met Leo's.

"Why should I have interfered?" he asked, ignoring the other questions posed to him.

Michelangelo was at a loss. Maybe because you're our big brother and we need you to stop us when we do stupid shit? Maybe because you know this is a really, really bad idea on Donnie's part? Maybe because you've been through this crazy relationship crap and know what to do?

"Leo…" we need you. I need your help, he finished in his head. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. There was so much he needed from his brother and yet, he knew Leo had nothing to give. Not yet, at least. Maybe never. His shoulders slumped.

"I dunno. I…I just think that maybe you should've said something to Donnie," he said haltingly. He shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "Maybe stopped him?"

"Why?"

"Why?" he repeated and felt stupid. He couldn't come up with anything that he could actually say out loud to his broken brother.

"He loves her, Mikey. No one should interfere. They can sort it out for themselves." He reached down and picked something up from the porch floor between his feet. He handed something to Michelangelo. "I made these for you."

Stunned and struck dumb at Leonardo's words, Michelangelo took the gift and looked at what he handed him. Two small, smooth wooden throwing stars, the points whittled down sharp.

"Thanks, Leo."

Leonardo nodded and was looking out into the yard again; looking lost. And deeply saddened. Michelangelo felt a wave of guilt hit him; hard and heavy. The words he'd spoken hung on Mikey's heart, No one should interfere. Which is what everyone had done to Leo when he fell for Karai. But…but… Michelango's mind protested in his own defense, it was all a trap in the end and Leo almost ended up killed. It was a trap…wasn't it? Suddenly he felt unsure and dizzy. Why did everything have to be so complicated and confusing?

He stared at Leonardo as he sat there; looking so alone and broken and lost. He suddenly, fiercely wanted to wrap his arms around him and hug his brother but something kept him from doing so. Some invisible force field of hurt was keeping them separate and he knew it was coming from Leonardo. It was probably subconscious, how he pushed everyone away.

Over the past few months, after everything settled down and he'd healed, he never accused anyone of anything, never blamed anyone, never raised his voice or fought with anyone. Not even Raph. He was obedient and compliant with Splinter's every wish, never even questioned a curfew or command, nothing. He just bottled everything up and left Mikey and the rest of them wondering what he felt, what he thought. More than ever Michelangelo wished he knew what to say. This was the closest anyone had come to bringing up Karai with him, heck, this was the most his brother had said to anyone in months. He opened his mouth only to close it again. Feeling frustrated and helpless, he sighed. He had no idea what to say.

Slowly, feeling a bit lost himself, Michelangelo turned away from Leo and headed numbly out into the yard. His guilt followed like a dark shadow on his heels. His fingers slid over the gift that Leo had made for him; he tucked the gift into his belt; his feet leading him down the familiar path towards the fishing pond. He pulled a few wild flowers free as he walked; gathered them into a sloppy bouquet. He hoped his girl would be there, though it was very early. He needed her badly right now; needed to sit with her, just be in her presence where everything was simple and easy. Behind him the sun was rising slowly in the sky; painting the country skyline in pale green, aquamarine and pink.

The bugs at the pond were in full force, chirping and singing in the dawn hours. A few frogs were filling the air with their bellowing calls. Michelangelo sat in the dew covered grass and shivered. It was chilly against his bare legs. He set the flowers down next to his ankles. He brought his knees up to his chest and rested his arms over them much like his girl had done every time she sat with him. He rested his chin on his arms. Donnie and April…what had they done? His stomach churned with worry. He swallowed back his fear. Things were getting too messy and complicated. He pinched his eyes closed in frustration. When would things ever be back to normal with his family? The way things were going, nothing would ever be the same again. The heavy thought made him feel sadder than he ever did before. His eyes burned and a tear trickled out of one corner.

"Why are you so sad?"

His face shot up. There she was, sitting next to him, in the same position, in the same dress with the small blue and yellow flowers patterned over it. Her face was a mask of concern. He sniffled and cleared his throat, quickly dashing the tear away.

"I…I'm not… anymore."

Her tentative smile wavered then spread. Warmth and happiness bloomed inside him at the sight.

"What are you doing out here this early?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I needed to get away. Things are getting pretty complicated now."

Michelangelo rolled his eyes. "You too, huh? Tell me about it." He huffed out a breath. Everyone's family is crazy, he thought. "Can I ask you something?" She nodded. "What's your name?"

"My name is Miranda Collins. My friends called me Mira." She smiled as she said it.

Michelangelo practiced saying it in his mouth without a sound. Mira. Hmm. Pretty, he decided. He glanced at her a little shyly.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

She giggled and his heart tripped with the sound of it. "Sure."

"How old are you, Mira?"

Her eyes traveled up to the sky, now lighter with the sunrise, a few dark clouds gathering just beyond the large maple. The scent of rain drifted on the cool breeze.

"Hmm, I guess, I'd be about seventeen," she said. He raised his eyebrows in shock but then blinked in confusion at her answer. "Yes, seventeen," she said and nodded, as if she just decided this was a fact. "How about you?" she asked, her silver eyes sparkled and he swallowed, distracted.

"I…I'm seventeen."

"It's a good age to be," she said and before he could say anything else, she reached over and placed her hand on top of his in the grass. Her skin was soft and the weight of her hand was almost nothing, like a butterfly had landed on his hand; its wings caressing his flesh. Her eyes went to the bunch of flowers at his feet.

"Are those for me?"

He blinked, suddenly feeling very bashful. "Uh, yeah, you like them?" he asked as he handed them to her, sad to lose the touch of her hand, but happy that she seemed to like the present.

"Black-eyed-Susan's? They're my favorite flower."

He couldn't stop the wide smile as it spread across his face.

"I love being here with you, you know."

His mind went blank. His heart hammered. Their eyes were locked on each other's.

"Yes," she said softly.

He opened his mouth to ask but she stopped him.

"In answer to your other question."

He frowned in confusion, tilted his head. She giggled and wrinkled her nose. He felt the familiar warmth spread through him. He shifted a little closer to her, he couldn't help it. He was drawn to her like a moth to a softly glowing flame.

"The question you asked me the other day before you ran away."

Color rushed to his cheeks as he remembered.

"Oh, uh, um…oh…th…that," he stammered.

"I would very much like a kiss before I have to go."

He froze. "Have to go?"

She nodded and tipped her chin towards him. "A kiss goodbye."

A cold fear washed through him, putting the warming fire in his stomach immediately out and replacing it with soaking grey ash.

"What do you mean, goodbye?" he asked in a low strained voice.

"It means what it means, silly."

His words rushed out as he felt his heart being crushed by the weight of her words. "Won't I ever…you mean…you won't be here…well…c…can I get your number or…address…or…or…something?"

She shook her head and devastation crushed his heart down, down into a deep pit.

"Just a kiss, please."

He bit his lip; pushed away the sadness that was threatening to overwhelm him. This was going to be his first kiss. He'd waited seventeen years for this moment and he wanted it to be wonderful and special and not sad and full of anxiety. He wanted it to be like the movies he'd seen; like his dreams. He just never thought it would be mixed with fear and sadness and loss. He took in a hitched breath as she leaned closer. He closed his eyes and felt her mouth press gently to his. It was sweet, oh so sweet, so soft and tender; again, he was reminded of butterfly wings.

When he opened his eyes, his cheeks were wet from his tears and Mira was nowhere to be found. He shot his head around searching for any sign of her. He was alone. The crickets chirped and the frogs called out, the crows in a distant field cawed. He twisted and turned; opened his mouth to call out to her. But he knew there'd be no returning answer. His heart sank with certainty. He just knew she was gone forever.

It wasn't fair! Why wasn't anything fair?!

He dropped his head into his palms and couldn't stop the choking sobs from rising up and taking him.

The sun wasn't much higher in the sky as he trudged back up the path towards the farm house; head full of uneasy questions, heart full of sadness and confusion and hurt. He heard the gravel crunching sound of a vehicle rolling up the road towards the house. He looked up as the truck bounced to a rough halt. His head snapped towards the barn where April was walking out with her arm hung across Donatello's shoulders, who had his arm wrapped around her back, his hand resting on her hip. His eyes grew round.

"Oh shit," Mikey said as Casey jumped out of the truck and April and Donatello stopped abruptly, quickly releasing and stepping away from each other. His sadness temporarily forgotten as he ran past them to the farm house.

"What…What the fuck is this?" Casey hollered, his voice rising. He ran around the truck and stood in front of April and Donatello.

"Are you kiddin' me, Casey?" April pushed Casey's chest and he stepped back. "I told you I didn't want you comin' back here."

"Yeah," he laughed bitterly. "I see why. Needed a little alone time?"

"What!?" April shouted. "You bastard! And what were you doing all night, I mean, after your little trip to the strip club," she sneered at him.

He ignored her, turned to Donatello and balled his fists. He advanced on Donatello who braced himself and raised his fists defensively; eyes narrowed.

"You movin' in on my fiancé? Huh, you little sneak? What the fuck were you doin' with my girl? Huh? Did you touch her? Answer me!"

He got into Donatello's face and the two started to scuffle as Michelangelo raced up the porch steps. He ran inside before dashing back out, remembering Leo was on the porch. Leonardo was on his feet, watching from the porch, gripping the railing, his body alert and tense. They heard Raphael shout from the attic window.

"What the hell's goin' on out there?"

"Uh, you better get down here, Raph!" Michelangelo called, looking up. From the corner of his eye, he saw Leo vault over the railing of the porch. A moment later, Raphael jumped out onto the porch. Their heads both snapped in the direction of Casey's curses and Donatello's angry shouts.

"Shit," he said and exchanged glances with Michelangelo. "I warned 'em." With a shake of his head he raced down the steps, Michelangelo was close on his heels.

"You'll stop Casey, won't you, Raph?" Mikey asked, worried about his brother. Raph's green eyes shot to him over his shoulder and he pressed his lips tight.

"Course, Mikey. He's my brother." Raph stopped, put up his hand to stop Michelangelo from getting too close to the brawling couple. "But Casey has the right to get his point across, too."

Donatello fell back onto his shell as the blow from Casey's left fist connected to his jaw. Stars exploded across his vision. He shook his head as he tried to clear it; tasted the thick coppery blood as it filled his mouth.

"Get up, you! You ain't no turtle, you're a snake!" Casey snarled at him. "You've been after her all along. I've seen how you look at her! You just waited for your chance, huh? I turn my back for one second…Dammit!" He kicked at Donatello, but missed. "You fuckin' snake!"

Casey was pacing back and forth, shaking his head in disgust, hovering over him. April jumped in front of Casey and shoved him again. He didn't move this time, but knocked April away with his elbow.

"Get outta here, April. This is between me and your little genius here."

Donatello wiped his mouth and climbed to his feet, seething with fury. What the hell did she ever see in this guy, he wondered not for the first time.

"Stay back, April. I don't want you to get hurt," Donnie said softly.

Casey titled his head, "Aw, now ain't that sweet." He leapt forward and swung his fist and Donatello dodged. He threw a kick and Casey jumped back, bouncing on his toes. "Gotta do better n' that, ninja-boy."

He caught Donatello with a quick jab to the snout. His head snapped back and Casey quickly followed it up with a blow to his stomach with his opposite fist. Gasping for breath, Donatello doubled over. Casey brought his knee up, but Donatello blocked it and caught Casey in the chin with the base of his hand. He stumbled back, but kept upright.

"You don't deserve her!" Donatello shouted at him.

"You're gonna judge me? You were just waitin' weren't you?" He sneered and shook his head in furious disgust. "You…you're the scumbag here, pal."

He flew forward and swung again at his face and Donatello dodged. But then Casey crouched and launched himself at Donatello. They fell in a heap as Casey straddled him and reared back and pounded Donatello's face with his fists. April was circling them, screaming for them to stop. Michelangelo looked to Raph, his eyes pleading with him to end this.

"Okay. I'd say that's about enough," Raphael said and cracked his knuckles. He felt that Donatello earned this angry retribution from his friend, but he didn't want his brother hurt seriously. The look on Casey's face was one Raphael knew all too well. He was only just getting warmed up.

Suddenly, Leonardo's shell was in front of him from out of nowhere. He moved silently and swiftly; grabbed Casey by the shoulders and hauled him up and off of Donatello, throwing him back. Donatello rolled to one side and groaned, his face a mask of gore. April fell to her knees next to him, murmuring something only he could hear. Casey struggled back to his feet, moved towards him, but Leonardo stepped in the way. Casey then stepped away from Leonardo. He paced and walked in a small circle; pinched the bridge of his nose and held a hand up to Leo.

"S…Stay outta this, Leo. This is…between me and your snake of a brother," Casey panted from between gritted teeth; face red; trying to get himself under control.

Leonardo stood between Donatello and April and Casey; staring at him calmly, his hands at his sides. Casey moved to step around him and Leo swept his leg around, knocking Casey flat on his back with a loud grunt. Leo returned to where he stood. Casey growled and jumped up. Leonardo swept his legs out from under him again. Then again. Casey punched the ground in frustration. He pointed at Donatello.

"You're a piece of shit. Do you hear me, you snake? I swear, this ain't over." He punched the ground again with a grunt and got up. He marched to the truck and got in, slamming the door. The tires spun and the truck pulled around. He hit the brakes hard and stared at April where she crouched next to Donatello from the driver's window. His expression was awash with anguish, hurt and fury.

"How could you?" He shook his head in disbelief. "With one of them?" he asked miserably then slammed on the accelerator and sped off.

Master Splinter handed Donatello a moist rag. He sat, dazed and hurting at the kitchen table across from a bristling Master Splinter and a quiet Michelangelo. Leonardo sat in the chair at the head of the table, turned so that he was facing the screen door, staring out into the yard beyond. Raph paced the floor of the kitchen.

"I tried to warn him, Master Splinter. No one ever listens to me about this stuff," he said and Michelangelo couldn't help but glance at Leonardo. But he hadn't moved. Hopefully he didn't hear what Raphael had just said. But he wasn't sure. If he did he was sure it would've hurt. He frowned at Raph for his blunt insensitivity. Raphael spun on his heel.

"What were you two doing out there all night?" he asked, his voice low.

Donatello shifted in his seat, moved the wet rag from one bruised and swollen eye to the corner of his mouth, but said nothing. Raphael shook his head.

"Forget it, I don't even want to know." He took two steps but then spun around again, "It's April, Donnie. What were you thinkin'? She's engaged to Casey. You've really fucked everything up this time."

Donatello glared at Raphael.

"Raphael, that's enough," Master Splinter hissed. He turned to his battered son and spoke in a low angry voice, "Donatello, I am most disappointed in your actions. How could you have ever thought that pursuing Miss O'Neil would be wise? You were aware of her engagement and yet, you did the most dishonorable…"

Michelangelo picked at the pile of flyers and the town newsletter that he'd gathered from April's mail box after Casey had left, tuning out Master Splinter's lecture. He wasn't afraid of a big blow up because April was just in the other room and Master Splinter wanted to keep her out of the conversation for now. He'd been full of nervous energy all morning after the chaos with Casey and didn't know what to do with himself. He flipped the corners up and down, up and down until his eyes caught something. Using his index finger, he stamped down the corner of the newsletter and slid it out from under the pile. The voices of his family faded around him as he flipped open the paper; fear and dread and something else passed through him.

Miranda Collins. Her name. It was her name. It was printed there in black and white. And next to her name, a small black and white photo of her. She looked older in the picture, but the grey eyes, even in the black and white print stood out. Why was her name and picture in the town newsletter? His eyes roved over to the top of the page. One word stood out among the others. Plain and horrifying.

Obituaries.

Without meaning to, his eyes scanned the text beneath the words. The date of her death…his eyes flew to the calendar hanging on the wall above Master Splinter's head. Yesterday. Last night. But how? How? He'd just seen her this morning. His eyes went back to the paper and he read and reread the text.

His mind spun between the words in front of him and the words she had said to him at the pond. It said she was eighty four... I guess I'd be about seventeen …had lost a long painful battle with colon and bone cancer…I always come here, especially when it hurts too much…this is my happy place…things are getting complicated… She grew up in town…I used to come here all the time…and had donated all her money to the local library where she'd spent most of her life volunteering and working. She left no family behind…I'm always alone…but friends would always remember her vivid imagination and sunny disposition and lovely smile. She'd passed away late in the evening, slipping away in her sleep …I would very much like a kiss before I have to go…

The newsletter slipped out from his trembling fingers. Tears were streaming down his face and he suddenly became aware that everyone in the room had stopped talking and were staring at him. Even Leo had pulled his attention back from whatever distant hell he was living in to look at him now. On shaking legs he stood up. The chair screeched against the floor as he moved. A soft mewling sound squeezed from his strangled throat.

"Oh…oh god…I…I…have to…" he didn't know what he was trying to say, but suddenly, his stomach lurched and he spun around and fell into the garbage can just as he vomited.

Everyone jumped to their feet and raced to his side. They all spoke at once. "Michelangelo!" "Mikey!" "Easy!" "Are you okay?"

April ran into the kitchen. She crouched near Michelangelo. "Mikey? What…?" He held up a shaking hand to show he was okay, only to pitch forward and vomit again; knees shaking; body quivering.

She became aware of Donatello's proximity to her. She stood up stiffly; stepped away from him coldly as he reached out a hand towards her. They exchanged a brief and uncomfortable glance. Her eyes cold and hard, his pleading and full of unspoken words. She crossed her arms as she looked away and he blinked sadly; dropping his eyes to the floor, shoulders slumping.

She cleared her throat then said in a firm, but strained voice, "I think it's time we leave."

"I agree," Master Splinter said, glaring between her and Donatello, his voice harder, and much colder than April's.

They sat in the van, each caught up in their own torturous and stony silence. Master Splinter sat next to April in the front seat, the brothers were piled in the two back rows. Michelangelo glanced out the window at the passing greenery; his heart breaking and heavy, his mind full of confusion and sadness. Suddenly he sat straight up and hollered at the top of his lungs.

"STOP! Stop the van, NOW!"

April slammed on the brakes as Michelangelo leapt from the still moving vehicle.

"Mikey!" Raph shouted, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Be right back," Michelangelo yelled over his shoulder as he disappeared down an overgrown path. Leonardo glanced at the rusted mail box that stood on a crooked post at the edge of the road and the path Mikey had dashed down. He watched his brother's retreating shell and wondered.

He knew it was risky, but the paper said she'd had no family. He just wanted to make sure…he just wanted to say goodbye properly. As he ran down the path, he spotted an overgrown and weed-filled garden. A large gold and black butterfly flitted from flower to flower. The same yellow flowers with the black centers poked their heads through the tall grass and weeds that he had gathered for her before. She'd told him they were her favorite. Michelangelo's footsteps faltered and he stopped and picked a few, his heart hammering all the while. His breath hitched, but he steeled himself.

He turned back down the path. Suddenly, trepidation filled him as his eyes spotted the sloping angle of a small roof. He moved up the rest of the way towards the little cottage as in a dream. He looked around and found the yard empty. More neglected flower beds surrounded the house. Bright blooms in yellow, pink and orange rose up in between straggly green and brown grassy weeds.

With watery knees, he stepped up onto the small porch. He leaned over and peered through a dusty window into an empty kitchen. Dust motes twirled in the dim rays of light cutting through gauzy curtains into the room. A lacey table cloth spread across a small kitchen table. On one wall, he could just make out a portrait. Her smiling face reached across to him. His breath caught and his heart tripped. He stepped back and closed his eyes, feeling dizzy and sad and suddenly older. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat but it was stubborn and determined to keep his throat constricted. Carefully, he laid the flowers at the base of her front door. He placed his palm against the door, rested his forehead against it and closed his eyes again.

"Goodbye, Mira," he whispered. "I…I'm glad I was part of your h…happy place." He said. Then without a backwards glance, he turned and raced back to van and his impatiently waiting family, dashing his tears away as he went.

He climbed in and said in a mostly steady voice, "Okay, all set."

"What was that all about?" Raph grouched from the back seat. Michelangelo ignored him as April started up the van and pulled back out onto the road.

Michelangelo glanced at Leo, sitting next to him, watching him carefully. Their eyes met and held. He blinked back the burning tears stinging his eyes. Michelangelo still didn't know exactly how much torture his brother's heart was going through, but he knew he understood it a little better than he did a week ago.

He reached out his hand and Leo slowly took his hand in his, and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze, just as he did when they were younger and Mikey would come into his room when he was scared from a nightmare. One brother seeking comfort from another. But this time it went both ways.

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed this story. I will be working on my sequel to The Tender Trap as soon as I can. Stay tuned.

I sure would like to know what you all thought of this! I live for reviews, so if you could please take a moment to give me your thoughts, it would sure make this writer happy. :D