Chapter 8 – The Promise of Forever

"I know you want this," he murmured boldly despite the warmth rising in his cheeks. His fingertips trailed along the length of her jaw to her chin, tipping it back slightly. Her eyes were locked on his, steady and without challenge, but with an intensity that spoke of her hidden passion and need. He wanted to live there, in the glow of her affection, the light of her inner fire keeping him warm, so warm. Always.

"Leo," she pleaded with an exhale.

He watched her lips as she spoke, relishing the sound of his name in her mouth. He wanted her to repeat it; to hear it whispered over and over again, laced with yearning, matching his own.

"I-I do . . . but I'm afraid."

"Shh, I know."

Her forehead dipped to press against his. He closed his eyes and felt her body shift, bringing it closer; her arms over his shoulders, her fingertips brushing along the ridges of his shell, sending small ripples of delight through him. He held her; nuzzling into the side of her face and neck.

"I swear I will protect you," he promised. "Forever."

She gave a soft inhale of breath at his vow and melted into his embrace. Her head tipped back as he tilted his head and brought his mouth to hers. Their lips brushed, then parted. He closed his eyes and kissed her tenderly.

A loud giggle froze him in place; his eyes snapped open. He reared back. Karai blinked at him. Lips parted. She made no sign of derision or that the sound had even come from her, and yet, he was sure he just heard something. He made a little cough in the back of his throat and hesitantly resumed kissing her.

It happened again. The bubbling giggle arose, too loud, too odd and out of place . . . too familiar, making him lurch back again.

"Karai?" he asked with a confused frown.

A bright flash of pain made him gasp and see stars. Something had just struck him square in the nose. Leo's eyes popped open. For a second he wasn't sure where he was. Something obscured his vision. He blinked and it came into focus.

He lay facing the large, rather flat, foot of his younger brother. Mikey's toes wiggled and the source of the giggling sound was soon revealed. Leo's mouth dropped open as he realized what he'd just been kissing in his sleep. The sweetly pungent scent coming off the pad of Mikey's foot overwhelmed him – worst yet was the taste of it on his bottom lip - he gasped in horror and flailed; releasing Mikey's leg, hugged tightly in his arms, and kicked out violently until his brother flipped over the side of the bed from his wild thrashing. He rolled in the opposite direction and jumped to his feet.

"GAH! GUH! OHHO GOD! UHCK!"

Mikey's head rose up from the side of the bed. "What happened?" he asked in a groggy voice and rubbed his eye with one fist.

Leo was hopping and bouncing in place. He pulled the end of his blanket from the bed and used it to wipe at his tongue and mouth. "URGH! Oh god! Why do I still taste it!?" He gave Michelangelo one desperate look before he dropped the blanket and sprinted from the room.

Mikey stood up, teddy bear tucked under one arm and stretched. "Well, that was weird. Must've had a nightmare." He held the teddy out in his arms and spoke to it, "I guess not everyone can have dreams of being tickled by jelly fish."

He tossed his bear onto his bed and headed downstairs. On the last step, he paused and sniffed. The warm scent of golden pancakes and sizzling sausage perfumed the air. His stomach rumbled. His eyes closed dreamily. He slid off the last step and floated into the kitchen on tip-toes. He stopped at the threshold to see his father making them breakfast.

"Whoa, Sensei, that smells amazing."

"Good morning, Michelangelo."

He straightened up. "Good morning! Hey, can I help?"

Raphael emerged from where he was half-shoved inside a cabinet. "Sensei, I don't see any more plates." He noticed Mikey, "Hey, bro."

Mikey waved. "Uh, I could check the van and see if April's dad brought any extra."

"He is in town with Casey," Splinter supplied and flipped a pancake by jerking the pan forward and back.

Mikey's eyes popped at the display and giggled. "Cool. You're like, a regular, Gordon Ramsey," he said and pointed to the pan.

Splinter cocked one brow at that. "Hm."

Raphael stood up, "Well, I guess we could just eat on paper towels."

"There is a supply closet in the cabin I share with Mr. O'Neil. Perhaps there are extra kitchen supplies within. Go and see what you might find."

Mikey left the room and Raphael moved to follow when he stopped, peering out the back screen door. April was sitting on the grassy rise near the lake. He turned his head to see Donatello making his way hesitantly up to her, keeping in the shadow of the tree line beyond, stooping occasionally to add to the scrawny bundle of wild flowers in his fist.

"Uh, oh."

Splinter flipped the pancake. "Something the matter?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Uh, I dunno, maybe. Yeah," he sighed and looked at his father. "I think Donnie's about to make a fool of himself."

"Oh?"

"Sensei, you gotta talk some sense into my brother."

"Is that so."

He turned around and crossed his arms. He huffed. "Sensei, you know what I'm talking about."

Splinter poke a sausage and leaned over to adjust the heat. The sizzling and popping settled to a steady, low crackling. He shifted the finished pancake to the pile and poured more batter into the pan. Then he moved to stand next to Raphael, gazing out at his son as he still gathered flowers; April unaware of his approaching.

"See what I mean?"

Splinter twisted his head and regarded Raphael for a moment before speaking, "You think he is being inappropriate?"

Raphael's arms dropped. He blinked several times and frowned, "Well, no. Not really that. But, yeah, I guess he is," he changed his stance and put his hands on his hips, then dropped his hands again to his sides, he rubbed the back of his neck vigorously. "Yes. Uh, maybe."

"You seem unsure of where you stand on this."

His shoulders slumped. "Sensei. I just . . . April . . . she's our friend. But . . I dunno, I don't want to see him get hurt."

"Your fear is justified."

He brightened, "So, you'll talk to him? Talk him out of this?"

"No."

"B-But you just said that I'm right."

"I share your fear," he said glancing from April to Raphael. "I wish for none of you to experience harm in any way. Whether it comes from an outside enemy or," he pressed a finger to Raphael's chest, pointing to his heart, "from within."

"Then you will talk to him."

"No."

Raphael blew out a frustrated breath. "Sensei," he said exasperated, "it's never going to happen."

"Oh?"

"April cares about him, sure, but not like that . . . it . . . it's impossible!"

"So, you think your brother is foolish to pursue this matter with Miss O'Neil?"

"Uh, yeah," he insisted. "Pretty much. I mean, he's got no chance."

"Hm. You use words like impossible and no chance. And yet, you stand here, next to me, as real as the air we breathe."

Raphael frowned, "Wh-What?"

"Love, like life, is an impossible thing. And where there is life, there is always a possibility. To disregard that slim chance before there is any true attempt is what is truly foolish."

"B-But," Raphael started. "It won't last . . . even if she tries. I just don't think . . . It can't," he insisted stubbornly. "Master, sh-she's only going to end up hurting him."

Splinter blinked and gazed out at Donatello who seemed now to be hiding in the line of shadows rehearsing what he wished to say to the girl sitting on the edge of the lake, daydreaming of unknown things. Master Splinter smiled softly, perhaps not so unknowable. If what Kirby had spoken to him the other day was any indication of where her stray thoughts may be centered.

"Perhaps."

Splinter placed his hand on Raphael's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"But such a hurt is a tender bitter-sweetness, one that flavors a life well lived." His amber eyes roved over his boy, so sure of his brother's doom, so afraid behind the shield of his anger. So much like his younger self. "There is also the possibility, small though it may be, that they find something rare and lovely; something that lasts forever."

Raphael's face twitched and Splinter thought he caught the glimpse of the possibility hit home. His green eyes darted from the scene outside up to meet his. His voice was low as he asked, "Do you really think there's a chance for them? That there's a future there?"

Splinter shrugged and sighed. "You cannot map such a nebulous thing as love, Raphael. You cannot plan for it, nor shore up defenses to rally against it. You can only surrender and flow with the direction that it takes you. And the journey may be long or short, riddled with unexpected turns or stunted by challenges, but it is worth taking. Always. And I hope that one day, each of you may take that journey. When the time is right."

Raphael paled and shifted his feet. He ducked his head. "But . . . what about Casey? I think he might have feelings for her, too, Sensei."

Splinter considered this. "It is up to April to decide where her heart lies. No one else."

Raphael chewed on his cheek a moment and looked uncomfortable.

"I understand why you may be torn, my son. You are a good brother and a good friend. Loyal and compassionate. These qualities shine inside you, Raphael. But you worry too much over things outside of your control."

"I guess," he said, still unsure. He looked up with a pouting expression, "Love sucks, Master Splinter."

Splinter chuckled. "Do not worry, Raphael. Casey will recover, he is a strong boy and has many opportunities ahead of him." Splinter allowed that truth to sink into Raphael's mind. He could see the wheels turning in his son's mind. He glanced out the door at his brother. Splinter followed his gaze.

"As for Donatello, well," he stared out the window at his nervous child then back to Raphael who was watching him with a look of uneasy concern, endearing him to Splinter's heart even more, "he has his family to support him. No matter what happens."

Splinter pulled Raphael into a one-armed embrace which was returned but swiftly broken. For all his sensitivities, Raphael was not an affectionately demonstrative son. His mouth twitched as he added, "Just as you will have my support when that day inevitably comes for your own adventure with love."

His eyes were huge as he took a step back, hands up as if warding away a dangerous animal. "Uh, I . . . I think I'll just go . . . help Mikey find those dishes."

Splinter chuckled and turned back to the pancake in the pan, flipping it just before it darkened too much; catching it before it was burned.

###

The hardware store was nearly empty as Casey handed Mr. O'Neil two bottles of motor oil. The door chimed as an older man entered followed closely behind by a dark-haired teenaged girl in a hoodie and shorts. Casey caught her eye as she looked at him and then quickly ducked her head and scrambled to where her father stood in front of a stack of paint cans. He saw her glance over her shoulder above the low shelves at him to see if he was still watching her. He gave her a half-grin and just caught her smile as she turned back to answer something her father has just asked. She stuck her hands into her back pockets and bounced on her toes. Mr. O'Neil tapped Casey's elbow with a fly swatter. He jumped and turned, laughing.

"I think we should pick up a few, don't you?"

"Yeah, Mr. O'Neil, good idea. Though we may want to pick up a shotgun for some of those mosquitos. They're like, the size of drones out there!" He took aim with an imaginary gun but then straightened up with a blush spreading over his face as the girl from the other aisle walked by with her dad, glancing at him and then continuing on.

"Pretty," Mr. O'Neil murmured to Casey who stood staring.

"Uh, y-eah, heh," he laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.

Kirby added some matches to the pile in the basket hooked over one arm. "So, how's school, Casey?"

He shrugged, "Meh, all right, I guess. April's been helping me out in geometry, but I think I may have to repeat the course next year anyway." He sighed. "It's such a pain, but at least the coach is giving me a little leeway with my grades this semester."

"April's tutoring has been helping, though?"

"Uh, yeah. A lot. Except. I sort of freeze up with the tests and kind of forget everything she goes over with me."

"Hard to concentrate with her as your tutor?"

His blush came on hard and deep. "Well, uh, I dunno. Not really." He cleared his throat. "So, uh, speaking of . . . does . . . does she ever, uh, um, I dunno say anything about me?"

"Yes, actually, that you need to study more," Kirby laughed and Casey chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck again. Together they made their way up to the register. The dark-haired girl was still inside, lingering near the entrance, flipping through magazines while her father spoke to another man just outside the door. Casey froze as she looked up and gave him a smile. Mr. O'Neil stacked his goods onto the counter watching the teens from the corner of his eye.

"Hi," she said to Casey and fidgeted, shifting from one leg to the other.

Casey walked around to her. "Hey." He glanced out the door. "You vacationing up here, too?"

She nodded. "Yeah, my dad rents a cabin on Bear Lake. We come up a couple times a year."

He squinted and leaned against the counter. "You from the city?"

She nodded again. "Well . . . Kind of. Just moved from Jersey."

"Oh," Casey crossed his arms. "That's cool. You'll like the city."

"I think so. My name's Gabby. Uh, Gabrielle."

He smiled and gave her an appreciative nod, "Nice." He hooked a thumb at his chest. "I'm the one and only Casey Jones."

She laughed at that and his smile grew broader revealing the missing teeth. They fell into a slightly awkward silence. Behind him, Kirby chatted companionably with the owner about the weather and fishing prospects near the bigger lakes. Casey glanced at the magazine in her hands and started. "You into racing?" he asked with some surprise.

She laughed and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, that would be an understatement. More like, live and breathe it. My uncle is a driver. He's been in the Indy Car and Formula 1. He's training for the Speedway Grand Prix."

Casey gaped, "No way."

The door chimed and the girl's father called, "Let's move it, Gabby. Your mother and sister are waiting." He glanced at Casey and then sighed heavily as he let the door slam shut.

She rolled her eyes again and tucked the magazine back into the rack.

Casey huffed a nervous laugh and then blurted as she turned to go, "Uh, wait, uhm, can I . . . can I get your number?"

Biting the corner of her lip she nodded and twisted. She leaned over the counter and snatched a sharpie from the desk behind it. She grabbed his palm and scribbled out a list of numbers, writing it across his hand and then adding a 'x' and an 'o' at the end. He grinned as she bounced back, tossed the pen back in place and dashed from the store. He stepped forward and watched through the glass as she got into a red pick-up truck. He braced the written-on hand lightly against his chest as he saw her wave as they backed out and pulled away. Casey leaned forward to watch until the truck made a left and was gone from sight.

Kirby moved to open the door, two bags under his arms. "Looks like you've made a new friend," he commented lightly.

Casey nodded. "Yeah," he said absentmindedly and glanced once more at the number. He noticed the area code and brightened. "Holy crap! She's in our area! Maybe she'll be in our school. She said she just moved here from Jersey."

Kirby raised his brows. "That's good."

"Can I get, uh, Mr. O'Neil, can you tear off a piece of that bag for me?" he asked as he hopped into the passenger-side seat. "And do you have a pen?"

Kirby handed him the items. He watched Casey transfer the number to the paper and tuck it into his jeans pocket.

"So," Kirby started as he climbed into the driver's seat, "you wanted to know about April."

Casey sobered. "Uh, yeah. Yes."

Kirby stared forward for a moment, then glanced at him. "I think she has her sights on someone, son." Kirby looked at him with a steady expression and dropped his gaze. "I believe she's with him as we speak."

His face fell. He blinked rapidly. "Oh," he said as the full understanding hit him and shifted in his seat.

"Sorry to have to break it to you. But I'm a firm believer in being direct."

Casey shook his head, pinching his bottom lip between finger and thumb. He kept his gaze out the window but glanced at his palm and then resumed watching as Mr. O'Neil backed out and started down the street. After a bit longer, Casey sighed.

"I sort of knew she was crushing on the guy."

"Hm," Kirby said diplomatically.

Casey's eyes shot from him to the road back again. "But it's fine. You know. I'm not like, upset about it or anything. It's cool. I was sure I didn't stand a chance anyway," he added morosely. "He's like a genius from what Raph told me." He picked at a frayed hole in the knee of his jeans. "I'm just a dumb jock."

Kirby squinted against the glare of the morning sun coming through the windshield. "You're a good kid, Casey. Don't sell yourself short. Not over this. April . . . she's not one to dally over things. Once she makes up her mind, it's set. And I think she made up her mind a while ago. Your timing was just bad. Unlike this morning," he tilted his head to indicate Casey's hand.

Casey looked at it and breathed out a laugh. "Yeah, I guess."

"April won't stop being your friend, though. She's not like that. Once she decides you're a friend, she'll fight tooth and nail for you. Forever."

"Heh, yeah. She's stubborn."

"Don't have any idea where she might've gotten that from," he said and chuckled.

Casey grew serious again and rubbed his hands lightly against his legs. He blew out a breath. "No, but really. It's cool. I think, you know," he struggled a little but then seemed to resign himself, "as long as he treats her right. You know?"

"Yes." Kirby nodded. "I think he will," he cocked one brow, "but if he doesn't . . . you have my permission to kick his ass. After I do."

Casey guffawed at that. He wiped at one eye. "I may have to stand in line behind his brothers. They're all pretty protective over her."

Kirby nodded in agreement and turned onto the road heading towards the cabin. "I wouldn't want it any other way."

"Yeah," he laughed again, "Yeah. I'm lucky to have such great friends."

###

The warmth of the golden sunrise crept over her face. She closed her eyes and lifted her chin. Across the lake a pair of loons called; muffled and soft in the morning air. Steam rose from the edges where the water lapped gently against the rocky shoreline. The sound of it, a rhythmic lullaby. She cocked her head, listening to the world wake up. Her favorite time of day. This peaceful lull before reality asserts itself. When the sky is pink and night is a fading memory and the day is filled with every possibility. Ripe with potential. And full to bursting with lush anticipation.

I kissed him, she thought and dipped her chin as the memory awoke goosebumps across her bare skin. She smiled, cracking her eyes open just enough to make the world a glittering mass of indistinct speckles. The delight and excitement raced through her, making her tremble.

"Oh, a-are you cold?" came a sweet, tentative voice.

She twisted and squinted up to see him there, hovering over her, looking so incredibly sweet with his concern.

"I could run inside and get you a blanket. Or . . . or a sweater. If you . . . wanted."

She unfolded her arms over her knees and patted the grass next to her, shaking her head. He moved forward and lowered himself to sit cross-legged next to her. She noticed the flowers clutched in his hand and he seemed to suddenly remember he'd picked them. He held them out to her awkwardly.

"Uh, I got these, uh, for you. I thought you'd, uh, you'd like flowers. Girls like flowers. Generally speaking. Not that you're atypical of the gender. Erm, uh, what I mean to say is that, you're a girl. And these are flowers. For you," he finished lamely and wanted to jump in the lake and sink to the bottom.

She took them and lifted them to her face to sniff and hide her widening smile. She huffed a small laugh, "Thank you, Donnie."

He blushed furiously and jutted his chin a little, trying to cover his fumbling start to a conversation that he'd spent the entirety of the night practicing for. "It's nothing." He fidgeted and looked out over the lake. Several ducks came in for a splash landing, quaking loudly. April lifted her head to watch them along with Donatello. The sunlight gleamed and glittered across the rippling surface. He fought the urge to explain why ducks are so clumsy in their landings and when on solid ground.

The silence stretched between them and he felt the moment slipping by. It wasn't usual that he'd get a moment of privacy with April. His brothers would be up any minute now and the chance to talk to her alone would be gone. He gave her a sidelong glance. His mouth opened and closed. Say something, idiot, his mind demanded. His heart was suspiciously quiet as it thrummed in his chest.

"Ah, it's going to be nice today."

She nodded and he mentally face palmed. Not about the weather, moron. What did you practice all night for?!

"April," he croaked and cleared his throat, "I-I just . . . I wanted t-to . . . tell you," he swallowed and his eyes darted from the spot of grass he'd started to violently yank free from the earth to her wide eyes then back again. He made to smooth the grass down but all that was left was dirt. He arranged the ripped blades in a stacked pile to cover it. "Are you still okay with what happened last night?" he blurted and froze; eyes wide, staring at the pile of grass in front of his legs.

He saw her shrug from the corner of his eye. "What do you mean? Did something happen last night?"

His mouth gaped and he turned to look at her. She was watching the ducks but then tipped her face to look at him. Her seriously baffled expression only lasted for a few seconds before she broke down laughing. He sat rigidly as his mind processed what was happening. She was joking. Just playing with him. His cheeks burned and he ducked his head; a weak smile wavered across his mouth, but the corners turned down.

Suddenly a surge of hurt rose up within him, unexpected and strong. It gripped him by the throat and he couldn't breathe through the lump it formed in retaliation. He shot upright and took several large steps towards the tree line away from her. His chest heaved and his fingers clutched at the air as his hands balled into fists and released.

"Don? Donnie?" she called. "Hey!"

He looked everywhere as his eyes stung. What is wrong with me? It was just a little joke! Get it together, loser! She's gonna think you're completely lame!

But he couldn't quite get a grip on the surging emotions. Maybe it was the fact that he'd been up all night trying to figure out what to say to her, vowing that he wouldn't mess this up, practicing how to bring it up and how to prepare himself for the possibility that it had all just been a mistake. A fluke. An error. Errors happened all the time. No matter how careful one was while programming. They can happen to anyone.

Or it could be that she just wanted to see what it would be like, kissing a freak. His eyes slammed shut as they welled. Oh god. He jumped as he felt her fingers on his arm and laughed loudly; forced and ragged around the edges.

"G-Good one," he rasped through his panting breath. "Y-You got me," he said and dammit all if his voice didn't catch and choke on the last word. He pinched his eyes closed and jutted his face from her. Everything he'd planned was being ruined because he couldn't take a simple, playful, harmless bit of teasing. Or . . . worse . . . it was true. What he feared. It was all a misunderstanding.

Oh leave it to me to take something innocuous and blow it completely out of proportion! I'm such a Loser.

She wheeled around to stand in front of him. The flowers he'd given her still clutched in one hand as she took both his arms and slid her hands to his wrists. He fought the urge to shake her hands off him.

"Donnie, I'm sorry," she pulled on his wrists a little. "Hey, I didn't mean to tease about last night."

His head was bobbing at a dangerously fast rate. Enough to where it felt as though his head might snap from the root and go rolling into the lake. Part of him wished fervently that it would. Just to end this debacle.

"It's fine," he laughed, breathily and weak, "fine. It's . . . no . . . fine. I'm fine. I know you're only j-joking around, ha, ahah, ah. What happened?" he shrugged. "Nothing! N-Nothing to get worked up about, am I right? Ahaha, a kiss. So what, no big deal. You wanted to see what it was like . . . k-kissing some-someone like -"

Was he getting hysterical? Oh god, SHUT UP! Nothing screams romantic like a hysterical nutcase losing his composure in the middle of an isolated camp ground.

When he focused on her expression, his mouth snapped shut. The look on her face was nothing if not complete and horrifyingly obvious pity. His stomach sank.

Oh god, I'm right. That's why she kissed me. Oh god, kill me now! Where's a random meteor strike when you need one?

"Donatello." Her voice was firm and authoritative. The voice she used when he wasn't paying attention to her when she asked him something and he was in the middle of working on something else.

He froze and licked his lips. He noticed he was shaking; couldn't stop. Knew she noticed as well. He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I . . . always take things the wrong way."

"It's okay," she said, sounding more relieved than anything. "Donatello, look at me."

She was still using his full name, so he knew she was still upset. And why wouldn't she be? I just made a complete ass of myself. His shoulders slumped, but he obeyed. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

"I had to tease you because of that question you asked me. Why wouldn't I be all right about last night? I've wanted to kiss you for so long, you have no idea."

He found himself staring at her mouth in a stupor, trying and failing to process what she'd just said. He shook himself. His mouth opened and closed a few times before words slipped from between his lips. "Can you repeat the last part?" he asked hoarsely.

"I've wanted to kiss you, Donnie, since the day you rescued my dad from that Kraang prison."

"W-Wait . . . since . . . since . . . that long?" He blinked and frowned.

She nodded. "I'm sorry it took so long for me to get my courage up."

Laughter bubbled out of him and his knees buckled. He staggered back.

April pulled at his arms to steady him with wide eyes. "Whoa! Don!"

He couldn't remain upright and his legs gave way. He sat abruptly down, pulling her along with him. She knelt next to him. Stared at him with a mix of worry and fear. He dropped his face into his hands and laughed harder. He dropped them into his lap and ducked his head. Still chuckling, he looked at her.

"I'm an idiot."

She shook her head.

"No, really. I think I may have patented a superior form of idiocy."

She hit him over the head with the blooms, then leaned into him, draping her arms around him to give him a hug. She pressed her face into the side of his neck. His hands went tentatively around her back. He rested his cheek against her head. He inhaled her scent and shuddered.

"I'm sorry for panicking, April. You mean everything to me. I was afraid and stupid and I'm just . . . not good at this."

She shifted to look him in the eye. "Well, you'll get better at being a boyfriend with time and practice. Just like anything else," she said simply.

"B-Boyfriend?"

She smiled. "Is that all right? To say that?"

He laughed incredulously and glanced around. "Is that all right?" he repeated breathlessly.
"Am I being punked?" he asked the trees and the sky turning a shade of deeper blue. "Or is this a . . . dream?"

April pressed a kiss to his cheek and felt him tremble. "Did that feel real?"

He turned his face towards her, "Uh, maybe . . . but I think I could use more convincing." He mentally high-fived himself for the quick come-back. Maybe he would get better at this boyfriend stuff. He could only hope for both their sakes.

She smiled and pressed a kiss to his mouth that was gently returned. When she pulled back, his eyes were somber and serious and filled with a gleam of determination.

"Donnie?"

"I swear, April, If you . . . If you give me the chance. I'll . . . I'll do my best for you. Always. And . . . I promise," his voice lowered to a whisper, sincere and fervent, "I will love you forever."

Her smile lit up her face, and Donatello returned it. He pulled her close and kissed her with a heart full of promises and sincerity; hope and trust.

Someone cleared their throat and they jumped apart, spinning around on their knees and scrambling to stand in time to see Master Splinter standing on the back porch, two mugs in his hands, flanked by Donatello's brothers. Mikey stood beaming widely at them, one arm around Raphael's shoulders whose look of shock was quickly melting into something like wonder. Leonardo had his arms crossed but his soft smile could be seen, even as he ducked his head and pretended to stare out across the glittering water of the lake.

The van pulled up and two doors opened and closed. Casey ran around the back to get the groceries and supplies, calling loudly and unnecessarily that they were back. Kirby moved slowly around the front of the van, looking from the group gathered on the porch to his daughter standing next to Donatello. He spotted the flowers and shot a look at his friend. He just caught Master Splinter's sidelong glance of triumph; the tiny nod of approval that Kirby returned, flushed and grinning with happiness for his daughter and his friend's son.

Splinter turned back to the two standing awkwardly waiting for his reaction to what he no doubt had witnessed. He looked from Donatello to April. The stern look on his face smoothed. Master Splinter lifted his hand and beckoned them, calling out, "Breakfast is ready."

April glanced at Donatello as he exhaled in relief. He looked at her and blinked as he felt her hand snake around to clutch his. He squeezed her fingers and together they hurried towards the cabin.

"Thank you, Master Splinter," Donnie said in a hushed voice as he hurried inside, risking no glance at any of his family members. April on his heels, saying, "Thank you!"

Mikey looked at Splinter with no small amount of wonder, "Wow, they must be pretty hungry to be so grateful."

"Hm, indeed. Go inside, my sons. Eat while it is still hot."

The boys left him and soon were joined by Casey. On the porch, Splinter handed Kirby a mug of coffee and stood side by side next to the man, watching a flock of geese make their way across the expanse of the sky. Behind in the cabin, the sound of chatter and laughter rang out. Young and happy and free from stress or worry. Innocent and full of life.

"Well," Kirby said after a while. He lifted his cup to Master Splinter's. "Here's to all those impossible things coming to fruition . . . like catching stars." He winked.

Splinter grinned, his eyes sparkling. "To making a better fate for our children."

"I'll drink to that."

They tapped their mugs and drank; settling back into the rocker on the porch and listening to their children and relishing the golden morning so full of potential. Ripe with possibilities.

Full of the promise of forever.

A/N: Thank you all, my dear readers, those who reviewed and those who just gave this story a chance. I have come to fall in love with AprilxDonatello as a pairing and now that this story is complete, I will be focusing on my other ongoing tales. Be sure to follow me for all my updates, including stories set in 2k14 - my Domino story featuring LeoxKarai as well as the one shots circling around DonxApril as a pairing - it's a slow burn, but one that will be worth the wait!

Until then, see you in another story!