Race. [TMNT 2012]

22. Follow the Genius; Raphael

A week passes by in a blur. Charlotte and I both spend it avoiding each other as best as we can. It's a miracle if we can even glance at each other without storming off in the opposite direction.

   I am determined Charlotte needs to tell the others what she went through. I also suspect she knows more about Michelangelo's condition than she is letting on, since the same substance was used on her. But I'm not about to beg her for an answer. That's exactly what she wants, and I won't provide her with that satisfaction.

   On a lighter note, Donatello is healing up much quicker than expected. Apparently, his injury isn't as been as bad as we first suspected. He is getting stronger and stronger every day. The only evidence he has of the latest skirmish is a scar on his shoulder.

   Leonardo, however, only seems to be getting worse. He acts like he is sinking in an ocean of pain every day. Every day that passes, he gets more and more distant. He speaks less and ends up hiding out in the barn all the time. It's both sad and infuriating to watch how much he has changed since Master Splinter's death.

   While Casey and April are doing their best to help out around the house, I am on another mission. I refuse to do anything else until I find out what the mutagen-like stuff is. Instead of sleeping, I sit out on the porch and just stare at it. Sometimes, I actually doze off; but then I dream about Michelangelo getting covered in that green goop, and I wake up sweating. There os no escaping the strange liquid, no matter what I do.

   The worst part of it all is hiding the jar from Donatello. I promised myself that I won't let him find it until he is completely healed. So, I am forced to sneak around with the jar behind my back until I'm out of his eyesight. It's only by a miracle that he doesn't notice my abnormal behavior.

   One night, I set out beneath the stars. They probably would have been breathtaking if I actually paid attention to them. But I have a certain green something on my mind.

   That haunting jar full of ooze is sitting right in front of me. I stare at it while stroking Michelangelo's head gently. I've become so familiar with the substance, that I can recognize it several yards away.

   I'm not sure how to conduct experiments on it without causing harm, so studying its features is the only thing I can do. It obviously isn't working, since a week goes by and I'm still not any closer to figuring out what it is.

   Finally, my frustration gets the better of me. "Stupid ooze!" I growl. I grab the jar and throw it at the porch boards. It shatters, and the green liquid forms a puddle right in front of the door.

   I jump to my feet and protectively move Michelangelo to my shoulder. Realizing I've made a big mistake, I facepalm.

   "Good going, Raph," I scold myself. "You officially win Shell-Head of the Year."

   The door to the house opens and April peeks out. "What happened?" she asks. "I heard a-"

   "April, don't-" I start to warn her, but I'm too late. She has already stepped in the puddle.

   April backs out of the puddle, screaming in shock. I stand there, completely paralyzed, as I wait for her to morph into some ugly beast. The whole time, I blame myself for what's going to happen to her.

   We wait. And wait. And wait.

   But she stays the same.

   Finally, when it seems obvious nothing is going to happen, I walk over to her. "You alright?" I question hesitantly.

   April looks herself over before nodding, her pupils still dilated in fright. "I think so." She stares at her unchanged hands. "Why didn't I mutate?" she wonders aloud.

   "I don't know," I admit. My confusion only contributes to the fact that I haven't studied the substance very well.

   April puts on a thoughtful expression. "Well, I'm immune to real mutagen," she murmurs. "I wonder if that makes me immune to this stuff, too."

   Suddenly, Donatello pokes his head out the door. His russet eyes glow anxiously. "Are you guys alright?" he quizzes worriedly.

   "Yeah," I respond. "Just be careful where you step." April may not be affected, but that doesn't mean it will work out the same way for Donatello.

   "No, don't! Go back inside, Donnie!" April orders, but Donatello is already looking down.

   His eyes widen in surprise at the substance on the ground. "What is that?"

   I instantly remember why April commanded him to go back in the house. Donatello isn't supposed to know about the ooze. I failed my only mission: to hide the jar from Donatello.

   I'll take that Shell-Head of the Year award now.

   April sighs. "You weren't supposed to know about it, yet," she admits. She pulls the turtle safely outside and shuts the door behind him. "We didn't want to stress you out."

   Donatello chuckles a bit. "I like being stressed. It gives me a purpose," he replies with a tiny smile. "Now, tell me what it is."

   April and I exchange uncertain glances. Then she launches into the story of how Bernie introduced us to a green puddle behind his shop.

   Meanwhile, Donatello is down on his knees as he examines the liquid. He nods every now and then to acknowledge what she is saying. Once April finishes talking, he speaks what's on his mind.

   "Not to jump to conclusions or anything, but this substance looks exactly like the kind that got dumped on Mikey," Donatello comments.

   "That's what I was thinking," I agree. Maybe I'm not as clueless as I first assumed.

   "But I don't see how something from the city could get here," Donatello adds with a puzzled frown.

   I bite my lip. I didn't think of that before, but I realize he's right. Liquid like that can't travel to the farmhouse by itself. It has to have someone transport it. And I can't imagine anyone who would willingly throw that junk into the wilderness. It's unpredictable and dangerous.

   "I'm going to examine this," Donatello decides. "If I can figure out what its molecular structure is, maybe I can create a cure for Mikey."

   April puts a hand on his shoulder, causing his cheeks to flush. "Don't stress too much, ok? You still need to heal," she says gently.

   Donatello puffs out his chest, his cheeks glowing pink. "Don't worry, April! I'm one of the most intelligent beings in New York. Nothing is too much for this guy! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get something to clean this up." He turns and races back inside.

   April and I glance at each other.

   I shrug. "At least he's back to normal."