Turned Tables

Raphael stood outside his brother’s bedroom door with his hand around the handle. It was his turn to try and he paused a few moments to steady himself and make a game plan before entering. He closed his eyes and remembered how angry and lost Leo had looked when he had  tried last week, and how deflated Mikey had been since his attempt yesterday. Raph wasn’t sure he could do any better, but he had to try. The longer this persisted the more it twisted and warped his whole family and he couldn’t let that go on.  You can do this, patient and optimistic, Raph thought, taking a deep breath. Forcing the corners of his beak upward into a rare smile, he turned the handle, flung the door open and strode in. 

“Rise and shine, Donnie-boy!” he announced. 

The words sounded so strange as they fell awkwardly from his tongue. It was unnatural for him to be so chipper, that was more Mike’s gig, but even Mikey couldn’t seem to muster it lately. And that in and of itself was unnerving. 

I guess it’s up to me then, Raph thought. I don’t care what it takes brother, I won’t let you be swallowed by this. 

The room was dark and musty and silent.

“Let’s get some light on in here, ok buddy?” he paused for a response he knew wasn’t coming. 

Undeterred, Raph stepped over Don’s discarded mask and gear and walked to the nightstand to turn on the lamp.  Then sitting on the bed he gently rocked the motionless lump under the covers. 

“Come on Don, I know you’re awake, don’t you want to get washed and come downstairs?” Raph coaxed gently. 

“No,” came a barely audible whisper from the lump. 

“Ok, forget the soap and water, its overrated anyway,” Raph offered jovially, “just come downstairs and we’ll get you something to eat.”

“No.” 

Raph took a deep breath. Patient and optimistic he repeated in his mind. 

“Still no appetite huh? Well I can help you do some of your exercises, how does that sound?”

“No.”

“Well what about—“

“No,” Don interrupted with a bit more force.

Raph sighed deeply as he willed himself not to misdirect his rage at the situation toward Don. He needed to focus on his brother now, let him know that he still had worth. “Donnie, I’m not usually one for words and sap, you know that, but I’m gonna try.  ‘Cause I need ya to know that, well, we miss ya. More than that, we need ya. Donnie, ever since that night, since you were… shot, this family has been turned upside down. I don’t blame  ya for wantin’ to shut the world out. If it  were me you know I’d be going crazy by now. But well…you’re stronger than me Don. Always have been and I know you can beat this.” Raph swallowed the thick emotion in his throat, “You’re the heart of us Don, nothing makes sense anymore without ya with us. I know its hard but please, just try.” 

“No use.”

“You can’t lose hope Don, you know what Splinter would say, Ame futte ji katamaru. After the rain the ground gets firm.”

“I try. I can’t, too dumb.”

“Are you trying to make me lose my temper? Stop saying things like that, all you need is time and practice. Nanakorobi yaoki. Fall seven times and get up eight!”

Silence. 

Raph stood, concerned he had pushed to far when Don did not immediately respond.  Several seconds passed, then Raph watched as Don slowly turned his mask-less and tear smeared face away from the wall and up at his brother. With a tiny labored smile, Don answered, “You like Leo now, copy Father.”

Raph let out a deep baritone laugh, his first in weeks. “I know, me quoting Sensei, scary ain’t it!”

“Yes,” Don added. 

Seizing the lighter moment, Raph bent over the bed and easily scooped his brother and the blankets in his arms. He walked over to the small walnut desk in the corner of the room and settled Don in the chair. The desk was filled with papers, poorly formed shapes and letters covering them. Bits of ripped or crumpled paper littered the floor, evidence of Don’s frustrated tantrums.

“I not sure,” Don whispered. He clung to Raphael with childlike fear, eyes wide and glistening, “I lose so much. I not smart again. I not help again.”

Raph almost broke then. The cruel unfairness of it all hitting him in his chest. His gentle brother, fluent in nine languages, an engineering marvel, terrified to even write his own name. 

“You can do it Don, we’ll do it together.”

…

“You can do it Raphie, we’ll do it together.”

“I hate this, I can’t do it, I’m just too dumb!” Raph plopped his head down at the kitchen table where the five and six year old sat with crayons and construction paper. “Why does Sensei even care about this anyway. It’s not like I have to write to fight bad guys.”

“Father says there’s lots to being ninja, including writing. Besides, I kinda like it.”

“You would, brainiac.” 

“Come on Raphie, Sensei said we can’t go play until you write it ten times.”

“So? He said I can’t go play, you don’t gotta stay.”

Don shrugged his shoulders and then picked up a purple crayon and carefully drew a large R on a sheet of green paper. He then picked up a red crayon and handed it to his brother. “Just try, please,” he asked with a smile.

Raph eyed his brother suspiciously. “Hey, why you helpin’ me?”

Don thought a moment then responded casually, “I don’t know. I guess, you’re my brother, I’m always gonna help you when you need it, that’s all.” 

Another moment passed as Raphael continued to eye his brother, then with a huff he drew a large red R on his paper.

Owari