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The End Justifies	By : hummerhouse Category: +S through Z > Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Views: 4468 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The TMNT are not mine. No money being made.

Chapter List
- 1-The End Justifies
- 2-Part 2
- 3-Part 3
- 4-Part 4
- 5-Part 5
- 6-Part 6
- 7-Part 7
- 8-Part 8
- 9-Part 9
- 10-Part 10
- 11-Part 11
- 12-Part 12
- 13-Part 13
- 14-Part 14
- 15-Part 15
- 16-Part 16
- 17-Part 17
- 18-Part 18
- 19-Part 19
- 20-Part 20
- 21-Part 21
- 22-Part 22
- 23-Part 23 Final
- 9
- 10
- 11
The End Justifies

part 10
            Leo’s sudden appearance startled Don into nearly dropping the bundle of soiled linens.
            Only his sharp presence of mind kept his hands clenched tightly around the bedding. Don did not need for Leo to see the stains that were on the sheets and pillow cases, especially as there were a few splotches of blood.
            Fortunately, the beer that Raph had thrown up masked the other odors or Leo might have picked up the scent of sex on the thin material. That thought made Don clutch the rolled up linens to his plastron.
            As it was, Leo’s eyes darted down to the bundle in Don’s hands and then back up to the genius’ face. Don opted for silence as his best defense; Leo used it to sneak up on him so Don figured he could use it to his advantage as well.
            Leo’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Why do you have what I can only assume are Casey’s bed sheets, Don?”
            Leave it to his big brother to ask a question that couldn’t be answered with a yes or no. Don remembered what Raph had said to him about explanations and realized suddenly why Raph had that philosophy. Leo’s expression was certainly insinuating that there was something amiss and Don felt a spark of resentment.
            However, Don was not Raph, nor could he employ Raph’s method of dealing with their oldest brother. Something that was that far out of character would make things worse and might even draw Master Splinter into the equation.
            So Don chose to modify Raph’s technique for answering questions.
            “I offered to wash them,” Don said and stopped speaking. A short and to the point straight answer; no frills attached.
            “I’m assuming the Laundromat in Casey’s building is still functional,” Leo said, “so what happened to the sheets for you to make such an offer?”
            Don could see that Leo was not going to stop digging for answers until he heard something satisfactory. It was also obvious that Leo had smelled the beer and had made the assumption that the explanation was going to involve Raphael.
            That made Don feel protective as well as resentful. Maybe Leo did spend time trying to find fault with Raph.
            “I spilled beer on them.” Don told the lie with a straight face. “On my way to the bathroom. The room was dark and I tripped on Casey’s dumbbells.”
            When Don finished speaking Leo didn’t say anything, continuing to stare into Don’s eyes. The silence drew out; Don could hear the wall clock ticking loudly in the background. It was a questioning technique of Leo’s; the ninja leader knew that most people couldn’t abide an uncomfortable silence and would rush into speech just to fill it.
            The trick worked on Michelangelo very well. Mikey absolutely hated that long silent pause and his words usually tripped over one another as they rushed out of his mouth. Leo used it with the same degree of success when he questioned Purple Dragons or any other thug he got his hands on.
            Leo never tried it on Raph, mostly because the two of them got so riled up during a disagreement that any silence on Leo’s part would have given Raph an edge. And Leo had never attempted to use it on Donatello. Until today.
            It surprised Don. Surely Leo didn’t think his genius brother was naïve enough to fall for such an obvious psychological ploy. It perturbed Don as well; he wouldn’t have believed anyone in his family would underestimate him that much, and of all his brothers, certainly not Leo.
            Don remained unruffled and silent, his face a complete mask as Leo contemplated him. He had no idea what the turtle leader was thinking; Leo was an expert at the proverbial poker face. For Don the situation began to become amusing and he wondered how much longer it would take Leo to figure out that his trick wasn’t working.
            His answer came a few seconds later as Leo stretched out a hand to touch the edge of the bundle.
            “Is it just beer?” Leo asked in a deceptively mild tone.
            At this point their brother Raphael would have been in Leo’s face for the unspoken accusation. Don chose to employ a different tact.
            Allowing a slightly embarrassed expression to cross his face, Don said, “Well, I did have a little accident. I’m not used to drinking and I didn’t like the beer all that much. Please Leo, can we drop it now? I feel humiliated enough after trying to act all tough around Raph and Casey.”
            Leo’s hand fell away from the bedding and he smiled. “I’m sorry Don. I guess I was worrying too much about you being with those two. One of the reasons I absolutely refuse to allow Raph and Casey to engage the Foot during their outings is because both of them jump into situations without thinking them through.”
            Laughing lightly, Don said, “Did you think I was hiding a blood stain? No one got hurt except the bad guys, Leo. It might surprise you to know that Raph actually had a plan for handling the Dragons and it worked out very smoothly. I got to watch the police lock up those thugs and it was a very satisfying feeling.”
            In his head, he thought, “Not as satisfying as later in the night though.”
            “Does that mean you’ve got this desire to run around with Raph out of your system?” Leo asked.
            “Desire is a good word for it,” Don thought. Aloud he said, “Is that your subtle way of asking me not to?”
            Don was glad to see Leo looking discomfited by the question. “Are you telling me you’d want to go out with him again?” Leo asked.
            Answering a question with a question was another of Leo’s techniques for drawing out information. Donatello never realized before how simply talking to Leo could become such a fencing match. Raph lacked the finesse and patience for playing this kind of game, hence the numerous fights between the alpha males.
            The more he came to understand Raph’s attitude and motivations with regard to Leo, the closer Don felt to his hot headed brother. The fact that Don considered Raph to belong to him now made the genius feel extremely possessive as well.
            “If he invited me, yes I would,” Don answered. “I got to see another side of Raphael; one I’ve never experienced before. It made me feel really close to him, Leo. I don’t want to feel alienated from you guys because of my intellect anymore bro’. Can you try to understand that?”
            “I’m . . . I’m sorry Donny. I didn’t know you were feeling that way,” Leo stammered, confused by his brother’s vulnerability.
            Don pushed his advantage. “I’m three dimensional Leo. Sometimes I just want to have some fun like the rest of you guys. Running the rooftops with Raph and Casey got my adrenaline pumping because they’re so spontaneous. But I was still me the entire time bro’. I wouldn’t have done anything stupid even if they had wanted to, which they didn’t.”
            Leo acknowledged Don’s words with a nod. “You’ll always call me if something goes wrong?” It was stated as a question, but Don knew that it was an order.
            Don chose to overlook the commanding tone, knowing that he had won this battle.
            “Of course I would, Leo. I rely on you as much as I hope you rely on me,” Don said.
            Leo brought a hand down on Don’s shoulder and said, “You’re my rock Donatello. Remember that.”
            He squeezed Don’s shoulder gently and then left. Don remained where he was until he heard Mikey greeting the eldest. Once Don felt that the coast was clear, he made a quick dash for their tiny laundry closet.
            Using a little hydrogen peroxide, Don soaked out the tiny droplets of blood that were on the sheet. After scrubbing at the other stains with a pre-treating agent, Don tossed everything into the wash and then waited until the cycle was complete.
            He was afraid to walk away from the machine. Don had double locked his lab once more and now he didn’t want to leave his wash load in case one of the others decided to be helpful and toss the sheets into the dryer for him. Until Don double checked that the stains had been completely removed, he didn’t want anyone else touching this particular load of laundry.
            Don recognized the systems of paranoia. He had caught himself checking for about the tenth time to see if anyone was watching him and was intelligent enough to see the signs.
            It was easy to rationalize part of his fear; Leo had been keeping a more intent eye on Don. This fact gave Don something to think about as the spin cycle kicked in.
            He should have known that Leo would come talk to him about his night out with Raph. Instead he had assumed that because the oldest brother had greeted them at the door and pounced on Raph, apparently completely ignoring Don, that Leo was finished with the episode.
            Checking once more that no one else was nearby; Don took the sheets and pillow cases out of the washer and held them up to the light. Sure that they were totally clean, he tossed them into the dryer and went back to his lab.
            Until he figured out a solution to the Leonardo problem, Don was just going to have to be more alert. He was going to have to assume that anything he did might be scrutinized and that at any moment Don might turn around to find Leo standing there.
            The remainder of the day was very normal. He didn’t see Raph very much and decided that was probably a good thing. With Leo’s eyes on him, Don was worried that something in his facial expression might give away the euphoria he was still feeling from the previous night.
            Sounds of Raph yelling at someone drew Don from the lab later that evening. He saw his brother standing in front of the couch, clutching the remote and grinning at a fleeing Michelangelo. A football game was on the largest screen in the television array and Raph pointed the remote at the others, turning off whatever Mikey had been watching.
            Don carefully locked his lab and strolled over to the couch. Raph had seated himself and now had his feet up on the coffee table, sitting back comfortably. Don noticed that Raph had settled his weight onto his carapace, lifting his tail a little away from the cushions. It was obvious to the genius that Raph’s rear was still sore.
            When Don sat down on the other end of the couch, Raph glanced at him in surprise. It had been a long time since Don had joined him to watch a game; in fact, Don was the only brother who had ever shown an interest in sharing that pastime and Raph had been missing the comradery.
            Even from the far side of the couch Don could feel the heat coming off of his brother. He could also smell Raph’s unique musk; a scent that was as earthy and dynamic as the hot head himself.
            The smell reminded him of the odor of their sex; of Raph’s ejaculate and Don’s own as it mixed with Raph’s sweat. The memories were starting an ache that Don knew he needed to get control over; tonight was too soon for him to attempt anything else.
            His eyes unconsciously fell on the bottle of water Raph was drinking and Don caught himself contemplating whether his drug cocktail would be visible in the clear fluid. Shaking his head to clear those thoughts, he turned his attention back to the game.
            During the first half of the game the only movement on the couch was when the brothers passed comments back and forth or when one of them reacted to a play. Otherwise, both stayed where they were.
            Don saw Leo pass by a few times and sensed his brother’s eyes on him. The idea that Leo was keeping such close tabs on him was aggravating, but it was also another reminder of what it must feel like to live in Raph’s shell. If Don didn’t like the feeling of being spied upon, he could only imagine how the very volatile Raphael felt.
            When it was half-time Raph jumped up and said, “Gonna go visit the head. Keep an eye out for Mikey, would ya’? I don’t want ta have ta pound that little shit ta get the remote away from him.”
            Don grinned. “I’ll hold on to it. Can I get you a snack or a drink? I’m heading to the kitchen.”
            “Another bottle of water would be great,” Raph said as he walked away. “No beer until I know my stomach can manage another shipment.”
            While in the kitchen, Don sliced a few apples and got two water bottles from the refrigerator. Setting them on a tray, Don suddenly froze.
            He stared at the bottles and realized just how easily he could dissolve the powdered drug into purified water and inject it into the top of Raph’s water bottle. There would be absolutely no physical evidence of tampering, no visual sign whatsoever.
            The temptation to immediately try that plan left Don shaking and unable to pull his gaze from the bottle. So easy; it would be so easy and he could have Raph again. Tonight. He could just sneak into Raph’s room and . . . and . . .
            Mikey’s voice broke him from his trance. “The trouble with you, Leo is that you have no imagination,” Mikey was saying as he strolled into the kitchen.
            Don jerked his eyes away from the bottle just as Mikey’s head turned in his direction.
            “It’s not enough to sit and watch football with Raph, now he’s got you waiting on him?” Mikey teased as he delved into the refrigerator.
            Don managed a grin. “Courtesy is apparently a character trait that failed to be included in your personality, Michelangelo.”
            “Yup,” Mikey acknowledged, finding the last slice of chocolate cake where he’d hidden it. “They didn’t put lap dog in there either.”
            Mikey tapped the center of Don’s forehead with one finger as he said it and Don swatted his hand away.
            “Keep it up and I’ll tell Leo where you hide those candy bars he told you to stop eating,” Don threatened.
            “Monster!” Mikey yelled in fake fear. “You wouldn’t dare.”
            “Oh wouldn’t I?” Don taunted as he carried the tray out of the kitchen.
            Mikey’s interruption kept Don sane for the remainder of the game. Knowing that Mikey and Leo could appear at any given moment, Don’s temptation was held at bay.
            At the end of the game, Raph sat up and stretched. “That’s it for me. I feel like I didn’t get any sleep last night.”
            Don couldn’t help but smile, although he quickly covered that fact with a fake yawn.
            “How about that other problem you were having?” Don couldn’t help but ask. “Are you feeling any better?”
            “Yeah, I’m good,” Raph said.
            It was obvious to Don that it was a lie, but he didn’t call Raph out on it. He watched as Raph gathered up the dirty dishes and empty bottles.
            Without looking at Don, Raph said, “That stuff ya’ gave me helped. By the way, I dropped that tube in the top drawer of your nightstand. Good night bro’.”
            Don’s heart was pounding so hard in his chest he barely managed to squeak out an acknowledgement. That drawer was also where he’d stashed the tube of lubricant he’d forgotten to take with him the night before.
            Taking the stairs two at a time, Don raced for his room. With the door closed and locked behind him, he pulled open the drawer.
            On top of a handful of clutter was the ointment he’d given Raph, but Don didn’t see the lube. Pushing his hand all the way to the deepest recesses he pulled everything forward, but the lube wasn’t there.
            Don could feel a headache swimming behind his eyes. Someone had delved into his personal belongings and taken the lubricant. Someone knew why Don had the tube and was going to show it to Master Splinter.
            Unable to breathe, Don collapsed on his bed, his eyes glazed over but still staring at the nightstand. He could almost taste the raw panic that swelled his throat. This was retribution; this was what happened when you let your desires take control and do things that were wrong.
            His entire body was quivering as he fought the rising hysteria. Leaning forward, Don placed his elbows on his knees and leaned his head against his hands, pulling in deep breaths as he tried to calm himself enough so he could think what to do.
            From the bent over position Don could see the drawer beneath the overstuffed top one. For a moment his eyes just stared at it, and then realization and hope hit him like a ton of bricks.
            Slamming the top drawer shut, Don yanked open the bottom one. On top of some magazines and old notebooks was the tube of lubricant.
            Don started to giggle and then slapped a hand over his mouth. The tube had obviously fallen over the back of the top drawer; it hadn’t been found by anyone and it hadn’t even been seen by Raph.
            Closing the drawer quietly, Don lay back on his bed and ran a shaking hand over his mouth. He saw right away that he needed to be much more cautious; it was so easy to forget that his family was used to living in tight quarters and were practically in each other’s shells half the time.
            As the panic faded, so did Don. He didn’t even realize he’d fallen asleep until he woke up sometime after midnight.
            He’d been having a delicious dream about Raphael. In his dream, Raph was a middle linebacker with a pro-football squad and was damned good at his job. He had just come off the field, sticky and hot; he was all alone in the locker room as he set about removing his gear.
            Donatello had pounced on him as Raph sat on the bench. Forcing Raph onto his carapace, Don had mounted his brother and begun plowing into his ass. Although Raph fought him, Don continued his ride, feeling every bit of Raph’s tight heat around his throbbing shaft.
            The dream disappeared when Don woke, but the throbbing shaft didn’t. Reaching between his legs, Don began to stroke his painful erection, sobbing as he tried for relief.
            The fear from earlier was gone, the quick flash of guilt forgotten. The only thing in Donatello’s mind now was how soon he could again safely drug and use Raphael.
TBC……………..
- 9
- 10
- 11
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The End Justifies