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-Chapter 16-

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"What's the matter?"

Kame was frowning, looking into her drawing book. "It's this page."

Don kicked his feet absently, letting them dangle over the edge of the lookout. The night was nice and cool and they were sharing a moment here on the ledge of the bowl, an unusual spot but fun nonetheless. "What's wrong with it?"

"Look." She turned the book around, showing him.

"It's blank?" He said, confused. Was he missing something here?

"Exactly. It's the last page of the book. I've been saving it for a big piece. I figured I'd do something really grand, y'know? Finish it up with a bang, before starting on a new book."

"So what's the problem?"

"Weeellll…" she said, disgruntled. "I dunno what to do. It's like, too much pressure. The more I think about it, the more stressed out I get. It's weird."

"So it's like, 'artist's block'?"

She giggled. "Yeah! Totally. I've been sitting on it for a week. I can't stop thinking about it. I got in trouble yesterday in class for daydreaming, because I was thinking about it so hard."

"I can relate to that." Don sighed, smiling. "At least when you zone out, you don't get bruises as a result."

"Ha. Not unless I fall outta my desk, I guess." She looked up, contemplating. "Might happen, actually. This thing's becoming my white whale."

"So should I start calling you 'captain'?"

"Pssh. Hardly. Get it, though? White page, white whale, heh. Seriously, though? I'm a little afraid that when I do take this thing down, it is gonna take me with it." She sighed.

"Don't worry, Kame. I know whatever you do is going to be great." He grinned wide at her, and she could see he meant it.

"Thanks. I need the encouragement." She sighed again. "Sometimes I think you're the only one that likes my drawings at all."

"What? I don't believe that. You don't show them to anyone else?"

"Well, no – not these specifically. This book is mine. But I do stuff in art class all the time, only my art teacher hates everything. I don't know why. I think some of the stuff I do is good." She pouted. "I think he's out to get me."

Don laughed. "That sounds a little paranoid. Still, I have to say that a teacher is there to teach, so if he doesn't feel that you're learning, then he should probably take a closer look at his curriculum. I mean, you've obviously got the interest – and the skill."

"Yeah, I guess. But if he keeps giving me bad grades, I'm doomed. I'll never make it into a good college, and I'll never go on to be a great illustrator!"

"I wouldn't worry about that. I think your portfolio will speak for itself." Oddly, Don sounded really down as he said it.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

He laughed that small, embarrassed laugh of his. "Oh… nothing."

"C'mon. What is it? Did I say something?"

"No! I mean… well, it's just that – it's stupid." He shook his head a little, embarrassed. "I guess it's inevitable. You've got a whole life ahead of you. You'll go to college, get a job… get married, have kids. It's um… just life." He swallowed, letting out that small laugh again. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay." She sounded really sad. She put an arm around his shoulders, looking off into the city. "I'm sorry, Donnie. Sometimes I forget you're not just a regular kid, y'know?" It was a hard subject, one they didn't breach too often. Don wasn't human, of course he was never going to live a normal life like she would.

"But hey," she teased him, "what's with all this 'getting married and having kids' stuff? Who says I'm destined for that? Just 'cuz I'm a girl, I gotta aspire to make babies or something?"

He smiled, shrugging. "N-no, it's not that. It's just – you know, what normal humans do, I guess."

"One thing you oughta know about me by now, Donatello," she said, putting her hands on her hips, "is that I am not your average human. My best friend is a mutant ninja turtle, for crying out loud." She paused, laughing with him. "Maybe after college I'll just move into the sewers, huh? We can be neighbors."

"Your parents are going to love that."

"Ha! I can just see the look on Mama's face. But hey, I don't know what I'm gonna do. I have to go to college, I want to. But after that, who knows?"

"I'll miss you."

She looked a little startled at his admission but it made her smile. "I'll miss you too. But I'll come back, I promise. Hey, and you know what? You've got nothing to worry about. I mean, you've got like, a big ol' family to keep you company, right?"

"Yeeeaah," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Come on. I'm flattered you think I'm so great, but seriously Donnie – you're really lucky to have them. From all the stories you tell me, it sounds like they really care about you."

"Yeah. They do." He pictured them all, then. He thought about Mikey, who always good at making him laugh, who was so easy to please. He thought about Raph and Leo, his big brothers, always there to look out for him. And he thought about his master, his father. A kinder and more caring adoptive parent he did not think existed in the world.

"Friends come and go, right? But you always got your family." She sighed. "In a way, you're kinda lucky, you know? Someday I'll have to leave mine behind and do… something with myself. It's sad. But you guys, you don't have to worry about that. You might not have much, but you got the best thing there is. You got each other."

He looked at her, smiling wide now. "Thanks Kameko," he said.

She returned his smile, but there was something more in her eyes. "Huh."

"What is it?"

A little deviously, she said, "I think you just handed me my harpoon."

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Everything was shaking. Donatello opened his eyes, looking around suddenly, both stunned and confused with what he was seeing. Michelangelo was there with his hands on him, the perpetrator of the small earthquake that had forced him to wake.

Looking somewhat relieved, Mike said, "Donnie, you okay?"

"W-what?" He mumbled, sitting up. It was a dream, just a dream. A dream of a memory – a fond one, one he'd almost forgotten until now. Where was he? He blinked a few times, taking in his surroundings. Oh, that was right. He'd come back here, to his and Kame's lookout. He must've fallen asleep up here. He looked at his brother, a little dumbfounded.

"We um, got worried about you. You weren't answering your phone. We thought you might be here." Mike looked uncomfortable, like he was intruding.

"Oh, uh," Don said, sitting up the rest of the way and rubbing his eyes. He was starting to get his bearings. "I'm sorry, Mikey. I didn't mean to pass out up here." He sighed, reaching over and grabbing the sketchbook. He rubbed his arms, trying to get circulation back. He'd fallen asleep under a few of the dirty blankets up here, but it had hardly been warm enough. "What time is it?"

"About three-thirty, going on four."

Don's eyes went wide, his sluggishness gone in an instant. "Oh, jeez! I'm sorry – you guys must've been worried sick!"

"It's okay. We figured you just wanted to be alone, but… well, it's not exactly warm out here, so we came looking." He bit his lip. "Um, I'll leave you alone now, if you want. Just let us know where you are next time, okay?" He stood to leave.

"You might not have much, but you got the best thing there is."

"Mikey – wait." Mike turned. "Uh, I know it's late, but um… if you don't mind, I have something I'd like to show you." He gripped Kame's book tight, looking at it affectionately.

Mike's face changed instantly. "Sure! Hey, I been sleeping so much lately anyways, I'm actually bored with it." He gave a look to the bandages that were still wrapped around his arm, indicating that his injury was the cause. "But uh, I better let Leo and Raph know you're okay, they're down below." He started for the side of the enclosure, making ready to hop back over.

"Hey Mike."

Michelangelo turned again. "Yeah?"

"Just tell them to come on up too." He smiled. To his brother, he looked genuinely happy. For the first time in a very long time, it seemed like the old Donatello was sitting here again.

"Okay!"

Mike shouted for the others and minutes later all four were seated in a circle, in that special place, the secret that Don and Kameko had kept so many years ago. After they marveled at the construction of the place and the artful graffiti that adorned the walls, he bade them focus their attention on the book in his lap. Page by page he went though, showing them the drawings. They laughed and talked, passing the book around. Most of all, the three listened while Don told them stories of watching her draw, keeping her company and helping her find inspiration while she doodled. These were good stories, happier times. For this book was representative of their happiness; there were no bad memories in here, only the things she loved and the times they shared.

And as the sun rose in the chill of that morning, he shared with them the final page. There, they saw what was easily her finest work, a full-page piece which was illustrated with more detail than any other drawing in the book. Looking upon it, each brother found himself speechless. The border of the page was made to look like an open book, so that the illustration inside was on its pages; a book within a book. Very small in the background, a large winding bookcase could be seen, stretching into the distance and off the sketchbook page, seemingly into infinity. The scene depicted within this book of fantasy was a happy one and the sight of it filled Donatello with a joy he hadn't felt in many, many years.

They were all there. It was uncanny, how well she'd gotten the resemblances down, having never actually met any of the rest of them. Donatello understood now, why she'd shown a sudden interest in his brothers' features in those last days, sketching them and practicing with his input guiding her. He'd just thought her curious, never guessing that there was a motive behind it.

Now he could see why, and of course so could they all. His brothers, their initial stupor forgotten, were instead now talking excitedly and pointing out details on the page. She'd drawn them as they were – kids then, pre- teens, but it was almost like looking at a photograph of that time. Even Master Splinter was there, another amazing rendition of the real thing.

As Don looked again at the page he took it all in, his heart swelling with both the happiness of that time with her and the sorrow of her absence. She'd drawn this specifically for him. He thanked her silently and deeply for it, because throughout his long struggle, in spite of all they'd been through, it was this one small thing, this wonderful drawing of hers that somehow made it all better.

On the page was a full scene of the great outdoors, in what looked to be springtime. She'd made the setting a night scene, complete with a full moon and a sky filled with stars. The light grasses and trees looked sharp enough to be the real thing, in addition to the shallow stream coursing along the bottom of the page. Mike, Raph and Leo were all drawn near the water. Mike was standing in it, his feet hidden up to the ankles. He was leaning back with a pair of muddy hands over his midsection and laughing heartily. Some distance away was sitting a very grumpy-looking Raphael, who was frowning with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He had a large splash of mud over one eye and half of his head. Leo was there as well, standing tall with his own arms crossed. Leo looked as though he were trying to stifle a smile while still maintaining his demeanor, a look that defined him in this picture as well as it ever did in life. Beyond this little scene was their master, seated in meditation upon a large boulder. One eye was half-open, looking towards the three boys. A tiny smile curled up one side of the old rat's mouth.

And there, seated on a small hill looking down over the others, was Donatello and Kameko. Don was seated next to her, pointing up at the sky, telling her things about its contents. His likeness was the most striking of them all.

But Donatello hardly noticed. When his eyes went to that place in the drawing, he only saw her. It was the most amazing self-portrait, how well she was able to capture herself was beyond his comprehension. Right down to her body language, she'd even managed to replicate her own, unique facial expression that Don was sure only he'd seen; happy, carefree and a bit silly, but with that spark of wisdom that went beyond her young years. The version of himself sitting next to her looked very happy to be there.

And he would have been. He knew that, but there was something else. The real Donatello looked around the circle, looked at his brothers. His clan. The guys that put their lives on the line for him every chance they could. It had taken him a while to see it, but now he understood.

She was showing him, in her picture. Even in death she was still telling him the same thing, showing him how lucky he was to have them all. She was right. He studied his brothers now, taking in their elation and realized: it wasn't the book they were suddenly enthusiastic about, it was him. Where he'd seen nothing but looks of concern amongst his brothers in these last weeks, their over exuberance now gave away their shared sense of relief. Donatello shook his head slightly. Your fight is our fight. It's what Leo had told him, just moments after Don had reserved himself to death at the hands of Karai. But of course those words held true in all things, not just on the battlefield. The evidence of that was right in front of him; here in the early hours of morning, even though they had to be freezing, each one of them looked as though they wouldn't rather be anywhere else.

Thank you, he thought. He looked at the drawing of the two of them again, content to have this piece of her, happy that she'd been a part of his life. Happy to have memories of Kameko under the stars.

Running his finger over it again, Donatello read her inscription at the bottom of the page.

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I love you, Donnie.

With you forever,

Kame.

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-END-

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