Moonlight Mutation (A TMNT Fanfic)

Chapter 49: Therapeutic

Diaval doesn't like seeing Destiny so upset. It's not even that she's noticeably upset, with crying and moping and laying in bed for hours after she wakes up. It's more of a subtle difference. She doesn't mope. She goes outside and trains even harder than she did before, building snowmen only to slice them apart and kick the pieces into nothing. She doesn't lay in bed for hours. She goes around the house and cleans, nitpicking and finding whatever she can to keep herself busy when she can't go outside due to the extreme cold.

Diaval tries to count how often she rearranges the bookshelf, but loses count after six. He isn't good at counting.

What's more, he can sense that she's hurting in a deeper sense than physical. She still yearns for Leonardo when her nightmares come and disturb her rest, but her reactions to the images Diaval sends into her mind change from relief to utter guilt. She accepts them still, but not as readily. She asks the ninja turtle in her dream if he'll ever forgive her and the question is more often than not left unanswered.

She's on edge too. Her sleep is still terrible. She still has headaches and visions at random times, often causing her to lapse into an episode where she can do nothing but stare at the wall, try to breathe normally despite the constricting feeling in her chest, and sometimes she breaks down crying after it's over. Diaval doesn't understand what it means.

"Oscar?" Diaval asks as he digs the farmer's barn out of some heavy snowdrifts. "If someone is getting scared at nothing, what should you do?"

Oscar heaves a shovelful of snow away from the barn entrance, looking to the boy with a raised eyebrow. "Scared of nothing? Do you mind elaborating?"

"Destiny gets scared from nothing, if the lights flicker too much, if the water in the shower's too cold. She isn't happy," Diaval says, smacking the caked snow from his mittens before getting back to work. "Want to help her."

The farmer thinks over the words as he bends down to scoop away more snow. "Sounds like she's anxious. Maybe she could use a therapist of some sort."

"Thera...pist?"

"Yeah, like a doctor. They talk to you about your troubles and help you cope," Oscar says, resting his shovel against his hip as he brushes snowflakes from his beard. "If you want, I can take you into Regina and we can look around for someone? Unless..." He grimaces a little. "Well, with what she is, I don't know how most people will react..."

"It'll help her?" Diaval asks.

"Possibly, you never know."

"Should try it."

"If you want to, bud." Oscar laughs. "Let's finish up here, then we'll see about that drive."

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Diaval regrets some of his decisions and this is one of them. The inside of the clinic is very clean and brightly lit. The receptionist at the counter is always typing, writing, filing, or picking up calls, his voice a drone in Diaval's ears. The people around him also chatter so much that it becomes indiscernible noise, coughs and mutters and sometimes the occasional baby crying.

He tucks his head lower and clenches his hands together in his lap, starting to hum one of the piano concertos he heard on a CD earlier this morning. He can't sing, but the memory of the tune itself serves to calm him down slightly.