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“Yeah, but we’re not actually married.”
“Well no, not legally speaking,” Donnie smiled. The idea of wedding bells and a honeymoon was a fun fantasy, but his relationship with Raph was just as meaningful without legal paperwork. Wedding rings wouldn’t fit their fingers anyway. “All the same, I liked April’s idea. We should celebrate our anniversaries. Every year has a traditional gift theme.”
Raph grunted. “Who came up with that?”
“Tradition, I suppose? Year one is paper, then cotton, and so forth… we don’t need to, of course. I just thought–”
“Yeah, okay.”
Donne brightened. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Raph shrugged with a cheeky grin. “Why not? Could be fun. Real romantic’n junk.”
“Then it’s settled!”
Year 1: Paper
They both forgot.
Not on purpose. The first anniversary snuck up on them, and in their defense, they weren’t used to celebrating their relationship yet.
At nearly midnight, Raph shuffled into Donnie’s lab, a crumpled piece of folded paper in hand.
“Happy anniversary,” he gulped, holding out the handmade card. It was crude, folded printer paper and penciled hearts on the front, couple of sappy words on the inside. “Sorry it’s not, y’know. Better.”
Donnie blinked at him, hands covering a small stack of haphazardly-Sharpied notes. He’d only just finished scribbling the last one. “Well. I suppose I’m no better. Happy anniversary.”
He handed Raph the stack of notes. One (1) free shoulder massage. One (1) free movie choice. One (1) coffee in bed. And so forth.
“Dee. Love coupons?”
For a moment, they stared at each other, then at their respective gifts, and burst out laughing.
“Okay, we gotta do better next year,” Raph chuckled.
Card in hand, Donnie rose and kissed his boyfriend. “I’d say so far, so good.”
Year 2: Cotton
Raph lingered at the doorway to the garage, shifting from foot to foot like he’d rather be anywhere else, hands tensely tucked behind his shell.
“... Hey,” he muttered at last.
Donnie didn’t look up from his tools, but he spoke with more softness than he had in days. “Hey.”
“Listen… I’m…”
“No, no…” Donnie sighed, putting his screwdriver down. “I’m the one who should apologize. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”
Raph shuffled on his feet again, looking guilty. “Nah, I said stupid shit too.”
“I was jealous,” Donnie admitted. “Of Casey. I know it’s ridiculous, I didn’t expect to be, but…”
“Okay,” Raph whispered. “So… are we over, or…”
Donnie’s eyes popped wide. “Raph, no. Of course not! Couples fight, it doesn’t mean we’re over. I certainly don’t want us to be over. Unless you…?”
“No!” Raph hurried to sit on the ground next to Donnie. Both pretended his eyes weren’t glistening. “No, I don’t want us to be over. I don’t want to lose you, Dee.”
Donnie closed the distance between them, looping his arm around Raph’s. “I don’t want to lose you either.”
Raph nodded slowly, then pulled something out from behind his shell. “Then I can still give you this. Happy anniversary. Cotton, right?”
With a near-giggle, Donnie took the bag of bright pink cotton candy. “Thank you! And happy anniversary to you.” He reached behind his tool box, pulling out a neat, new package of quality cotton gauze. “For the next time you come home scraped to pieces from a night out with Casey.”
“Ha! Damn, you know me so well.”
“So do you,” Donnie said, grinning as he popped a wisp of pink sugar into his mouth.
Year 3: Leather
“For your lab keys,” Raph explained. “You’re always losing ‘em. Casey got me a leather working kit, so…”
Donnie held up the leather keychain. It was handmade and gorgeous. He handed over his own gift, a little sheepish. “Thank you, Raph. Mine’s, um… a little different.”
A little different was right. Raph opened the box and pulled out a red leather collar and whip.
“... We should probably coordinate our gifts a little better in the future.”
Raph smirked. “I ain’t complaining.”
Year 4: Fruit and Flowers
“Just a few more steps… easy. There we go.”
Donnie fussed, getting Raph settled on the porch chair, stuffing a few ratty pillows under his leg. It’d been two weeks since the injury but Donnie wasn’t taking any chances.
Severe laceration, blood infection, close brush with death… yeah, Donnie was still jittery over almost losing the love of his life.
Pale and still weak, Raph slumped back in the chair, panting from the effort of hobbling from his bed inside to the porch outside. Leo had insisted on a change of scenery to the farmhouse, and so far the fresh air and sunshine seemed to be helping.
“You with me, tough guy?”
Raph’s reply was eloquent. “Ugh.”
“Just relax here for a moment.”
“All I been doing is relaxing.” Raph wiped sweat from his brow with a shaky hand, clearly resenting the indignity of it all. He knew better than to escalate into outright complaining. His near-death experience had left them both rattled.
“You hungry?” Donnie asked.
“Eh.”
Donnie pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “You need to eat something. I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
“Funny.”
Donnie returned minutes later, a tall glass in hand, garnished with an orange slice. “Strawberry banana orange smoothie. It’ll be good for you.”
“Oh damn, that’s fancy.” Raph took a sip and brightened. “What’s the occasion?”
Donnie’s mouth quirked. “Happy anniversary.”
Raph faltered with the glass. “Shit. Shit! Is it today!? I forgot, I can’t believe–”
“Raph,” Donnie gently interrupted. “You’ve been out with a massive fever for nine days. I’m just happy you know what year it is.”
“I didn’t get you anything.”
“And I promise, I don’t care. Just relax, okay? Drink your smoothie.”
He did. Donnie gave him time alone to rest up. Shortly before dinnertime, when Donnie headed to the kitchen, something stood out on the table.
A chipped mug from the cabinet, filled with water, and wildflowers picked from the field right next to the porch. With a ripped square of paper taped to the handle, in shaky handwriting: “Happy anniversary. -R”
Year 5: Wood
Their gift to each other that year was piled in cherry-wood planks, screws, and an instruction booklet they’d both tossed aside. Which may have been a mistake.
“I’ve built lasers from scratch, but a crib is beyond me?” Donnie grumbled, trying to decide which plank fit into which.
“Then add some lasers if y’want, I bet the kid would like it.” Raph sat on the floor nearby, having been forbidden to lift so much as a single wooden slat. Definitely overkill: he was barely a few weeks pregnant, and despite the occasional bout of morning sickness, was carrying on as usual.
But Donnie was stubborn, so Donnie insisted he needed no help.
“No lasers until the baby’s at least a year old.” Donnie fit two slats together, only to have them immediately fall apart. “Seriously?”
“All right, genius, let me help already.”
With Raph helping balance the planks (and pointing out the stray cam nut) they managed. And by the time they tightened the last screw, the crib stood solid.
“There,” Raph declared, staring at the finished product. “Shit. Can’t believe there’s going to be a baby in there.”
Giddy, Donnie slipped an arm around Raph, stroking his flat plastron. “It’s going to be amazing.”
Year 6: Iron
The crib sat in pieces against the wall.
Neither of them had been able to look at it without breaking, so Leo and Mikey offered to dismantle it. The planks sat stacked in the corner of the lair, in case (maybe, some day) they wanted to try again.
Doubtful. They’d broken up not long after the loss.
After physically recovering, Raph threw himself into training and patrols, crowding out grief with exertion. Donnie did the same, only with projects, tinkering nonsense until his hands shook. They’d barely spoken in months.
On the evening of what would have been their anniversary, Donnie found Raph in the kitchen, staring into a cold mug of coffee.
“Hey,” Donnie said softly.
Raph looked up, tired and guarded. For a split second he looked as though he wanted to snap, but curled over his mug instead. “Hey.”
“I miss you.”
No response. Raph bowed further on himself, shoulders tense.
“Look,” Donnie sighed. “I know we’ve barely said two words to each other in months. I know we pushed each other away when it happened…”
“I’m sorry,” Raph quickly said, voice thick. “I was hurtin’ and I didn’t know… hell, I didn’t expect that to happen, but it did, and…”
“We were both hurting, Raph.”
“... Yeah.”
Donnie slid his hand into Raph’s, waiting for Raph to push him away. He didn’t, squeezing back. “I miss you,” Donnie said again. “I’m sorry. I still love you.”
Raph nodded, shaky, swallowing a sob. “Still love you too.”
“And I’d rather not start all the way over, so…” Donnie offered a small, tentative smile. “... Happy sixth anniversary?”
Raph responded with his own watery smile. “Happy sixth.”
They didn’t have gifts. But they had each other. So they made popcorn, cuddled together for the first time in months, watched Iron Man, and kept going.
Year 7: Wool
The blanket was big, every stitch perfect, the yarn a rich, deep purple. Donnie immediately draped it around his own shoulders. “It’s so warm. And beautiful.”
“Just like you,” Raph grinned.
Donnie handed him the small bag, blushing. “Don’t laugh. I borrowed some of your materials, but…”
But Donnie couldn’t knit worth a damn, turned out. Still, it only made sense to try and make something out of wool…
Raph pulled out the small red square. It was the size of his hand, full of snagged yarn and dropped stitches. “... a potholder or somethin’?”
“It’s as far as I could get,” Donnie sighed. “I tried. I can get you something better–”
“Shut up. Best potholder ever.”
Year 8: Bronze
It hadn’t been a great year.
The warehouse was cold and drafty, but it was better than the literal streets. With the Foot Clan allied with the vicious Kurochi Clan, no place in New York was truly safe, not even the lair. It’d been four months of constant fighting, running, holding the line. Nights blurred into days of skirmishes and rebellion, but throughout it all, Donnie meticulously kept track of the calendar.
Sitting cross-legged on the warehouse floor, Donnie worked away with an acetylene torch (if he could just finish this EMP, they’d have a chance at driving the Foot and Kurochi from their headquarters) and promptly put it down at Raph’s slow approach.
“How’s the shoulder?” Donnie asked.
“Eh, it’s fine.” Raph sank down slowly. He’d been doing a lot of the fighting, bruised and achy from still-healing injuries. Donnie knew the severity of the wound that sat beneath the layers of bandages. He’d stitched it up himself.
Donnie pulled off his safety goggles and shimmied up to sit closer to Raph. Neither of them had bathed in ages but he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity for a kiss. “So, hey…”
Raph beat him to it, grinning as he pulled something from his belt. “Happy anniversary.”
“You remembered,” Donnie chuckled, handing Raph a small package wrapped in scavenged paper.
“It’s the only good thing to look forward to right now.” Unwrapping the package, Raph’s grin widened. “The hell is this? A bronze gear?”
“Probably.” Donnie opened his own tiny package. “And this is… uh.”
“I think it’s a key. Not even sure it’s bronze. What’s bronze even made of, anyway?”
Donnie grinned. “This is garbage. I love it.”
Garbage that, somehow, was as romantic as champagne and roses.
“So uh…” Raph coughed. “Leo, Mikey’n Casey are out on a food run until sunrise, so maybe…”
Donnie didn’t hesitate, pulling Raph into his lap for another kiss.
Year 9: Pottery
They drove the Kurochi out of the city just after winter.
The lair was warm, welcoming, and a well-earned return to normal. Donnie and Raph made up for lost time, spending hours in their room for “date night”.
When their anniversary came, it took Donnie a few seconds to register the writing on the mug Raph had gifted him.
Soft lavender mug. Big blocky #1 Dad on the side.
“... Does this mean what I think it means?”
Raph shrugged like it was no big deal.
It was a big deal, but Donnie remembered how hope could be painful. “How long…?”
“Couple of weeks.”
Setting the mug aside, Donnie yanked Raph into a hug, warm and solid. “No matter what happens, I…”
“I know. I love you, Don.”
“I love you too.” Donnie slid his hand, warm and solid, to Raph’s lower belly. “And you too.”
Year 10: Aluminum
In all the chaos of newborn life, they almost forgot.
Lyra was six months old, feisty as heck, and perfect in every way. Leo and Mikey were perfect uncles, and Splinter was a doting grandfather, but between diapers and sleepless nights, they lost track of time.
Donnie sat on the couch, Lyra curled up and fast asleep on his chest. Donnie was almost dozing off himself, snapping his eyes open at the sound of a soda can tab popping.
“Here you go, Dad,” Raph grinned, hanging him a Coke. “Happy anniversary.”
Oh hell yes. Donnie took a grateful sip, careful not to jostle Lyra. “Took hours to get her settled.”
“She was fussing until 2am last night.”
Yikes. No wonder Raph looked as tired as Donnie felt. “I swear she gets her stubborn streak from you.”
“Excuse you.” Raph settled down quietly next to Donnie, chugging his own soda. “You’re the one who’d rather build junk than go to bed. She gets that from you.”
Lyra chirped, sighed, and curled back up against Donnie’s chest.
“Ten years, and a kid.” Raph sighed, stroking Lyra’s shell. “Hell of a run, huh?”
Donnie hummed, curling his hand around their daughter. “So far, so good.”
Year 11: Steel
“No steal!”
“Lyra, sweetie, it’s ‘steel’, like the metal…”
Stomping her feet, Lyra glared at them both. “Stealing is bad!”
Raph shrugged. “Hey, she’s the boss. We got plenty of steel stuff anyway.”
They skipped gifts that year, and spent the day playing dinosaurs with their daughter instead.
Year 12: Silk
Donnie rubbed at his forehead. The glow of his many screens seared into his cortex, and the beginnings of a headache throbbed behind his eyes.
He was so caught up in the data, the maps, the patterns, that he didn’t realize Raph was in the lab until he was practically looming over Donnie’s shoulder.
“... You’re gonna go cross-eyed.”
“Jeez! Raph.” Donnie blinked the ache out of his eyes. “What’s going on?”
“You’ve been holed up in here for hours, that’s what’s going on.”
Donnie swept his hand over the screens like an explanation. “I’m monitoring. There’s been an uptick in Foot activity–”
“Barely.”
“-- and the last time this happened, it meant the Kurochi was in New York. If it’s happening again, we need to be ready.”
“Don.” Raph knew better than to touch his computer. But he did swivel the chair away from the glaring screens. “You need to chill.”
“I can’t chill when–” How could Raph be so calm? They’d almost lost the city last time. They’d almost died. They had a child now, they couldn’t–
“If you’re dead on your feet, you ain’t going to be useful for anyone.”
“I’m not useless,” Donnie murmured.
“Didn’t say you were. I said you were tired. C’mon. Anniversary gift’s waiting for you.”
He let Raph pull him to his feet, registering the words with a start. “Oh no. It’s today?”
“Relax. It’s not for three more days, but I think you need your gift early. C’mere.”
Donnie had no choice but to c’mere, as Raph tugged him down the hall. He heard the sounds of Lyra shrieking with laughter in the dojo, but Raph led him further, into their room.
The bed was freshly made. The sheets were new, sleek, the colour of deep ocean. The pillows looked shiny and fluffy.
“April said silk sheets are frickin’ amazing,” Raph explained, pulling Donnie to the bed. “Soft and super comfy. Go try. She helped me buy ‘em.”
Donnie flushed, staring at the bed. “Oh, I… I don’t know if I’m in the mood to–”
Snorting, Raph tugged him closer for a quick peck on the cheek. “I’m not trying to jump you. I’m trying to tuck you in.”
“... what?”
“Take a nap, genius. I’ll take care of Lyra today. You rest up.”
Donnie was too tired to argue. He sank into the bed, the silk cool and soft against his body, making him relax before his brain could catch up. Raph tugged the blanket over him. “Happy anniversary, Don.”
“Happy anniversary Rrra…” His breathing evened out, and Donnie was snoring before he could finish his thought.
Year 13: Lace
“Well then.”
Donnie would have felt embarrassed about the lace panties he’d just unwrapped, if Raph hadn’t just unwrapped a near-identical pair.
Raph looked positively delighted. “Guess this takes care of the “who’s going to wear them” question.”
Year 14: Ivory
They both refused to purchase anything made of ivory. Instead, they marked the year by making Leo babysit Lyra, and sneaking into the Angel Orensanz Center. The vaulted ceilings and dusky rafters made perfect cover for them, hand in hand as they listened to the piano’s first notes of Satie’s Gnossienne No. 3.
Donnie snuggled up to Raph, soaking in the music. He’d been looking forward to this piano concert for weeks.
“Yeah, okay,” Raph whispered. “This was a pretty good date idea.”
Year 15: Crystal
“Ooh, what’s this? A science experiment?” Mikey came to a screeching halt on his way through for a snack. Lyra sat at the kitchen table, Donnie and Raph on either side of her, a row of glasses shimmering with colorful water.
“Not entirely,” Donnie explained. “A hint of science. We’re growing crystals. Crystallized sugar, to be precise. Rock candy.”
“Family anniversary project,” Raph said, using a clothespin to hold a long wooden skewer steady in the glass of red sugar water.
Lyra held up a skewer, sparkling sugar already forming. “Candy and science!”
“That’s the best thing I ever saw!” Mikey gasped. “Can you make me one? Orange?”
Lyra nodded very seriously, getting down to task while Donnie and Raph grinned above her head.
Year 16: Wax
“Don’t eat the whole thing at once,” Raph chuckled. Donnie’s huge happy eyes indicated that he did, in fact, intend to shove the whole honeycomb in his mouth at once. His sweet tooth had only gotten worse over the years.
“Casey and April said Lyra could spend the night,” Donnie explained as Raph unwrapped his gift. “So… if you want to put that to good use…”
Raph held up the bright red, strawberry-scented candle, and grinned. “Oh hell yeah.”
Year 17: Furniture
Both were nearing forty, and they had to face reality: the creaks in their joints now rivalled the creaks of their old bed. Many a night was spent groaning in bed… as Raph massaged the ache out of Donnie’s neck and shoulders, and as Donnie helped Raph stretch sore hip and knee joints. Both groused and complained about their backs.
So, their anniversary gift was a no-brainer.
Luckily, the brand-new bedframe was a lot easier to build than a crib. In no time, they were dropping the mattress onto the frame, and tucking in the silk sheets.
“This is some fancy shit,” Raph whistled, as they stood back to admire their work.
Donnie grinned. “We need proper support. We’re not teenagers anymore.”
“D’you ever imagine we’d end up so domestic? Fancy new bed, fancy sheets…”
“Well, you are a delicate little flower–”
Donnie was instantly shoved to the mattress, snorting with laughter. Instantly he could tell their joints and backs were going to thank them.
Raph climbed on top of him with a leering grin. “Think we oughta test it out?”
“We should make sure it’s a quality frame.”
The new bed, they soon discovered, was blissfully free of creaks.
Year 18: Porcelain
The porcelain tub was wide and deep, installed in the lair’s bathroom many years ago. In a dire situation, it could fit three grown mutant turtles. Four if they really squeezed.
There was plenty of room for two to spread out, but of course Donnie and Raph cuddled up real close under the steaming water and bubbles.
“You gonna scrub my shell for me?” Raph chuckled, settling comfortably against Donnie’s plastron.
“Of course.” Donnie pressed a kiss to Raph’s temple, hands wandering beneath the water. “But that’s not all I’m going to scrub.”
Year 19: Bronze (again)
Year nineteen was supposed to be bronze again, but Raph and Donnie had already covered that. They asked Lyra to pick something new.
Her eyes lit up. “Dinosaurs!”
Raph blinked. “Dinosaurs?”
“Dinosaurs!” Lyra repeated, nodding vigorously. “Dinosaurs are badass!”
“Language, young lady.” Donnie pondered, then shrugged. “She’s not wrong though.”
Raph agreed. “They are badass.”
They celebrated by making snacks and marathoning Jurassic Park, Lyra tucked between them.
Year 20: China
They had no use for China cups or plates, so they got creative.
A quiet rooftop, and a full spread of takeout from the local Chinese place was all they needed. They passed the containers back and forth, sharing dumplings and noodles and mouthfuls of rice. By the time the meal was done, they were cuddled against each other, fishing the fortune cookies out of the bag.
Raph cracked his cookie open, squinting at the tiny paper slip. “‘Your love life will be happy and harmonious.’ Well, the cookie knows its shit.”
“Let’s see if mine is just as prophetic,” Donnie chuckled, cracking his cookie. “Hm. ‘Your biggest virtue is your modesty.’”
Cackling, Raph shoved the cookie in his mouth, then shoved Donnie to the ground, straddling his hips. “Sorry, cookie, you’re way off with this one.”
Year 25: Silver
The landscape of the city changed more and more with every year. Buildings came down, new buildings came up. Twice, they lost their traditional date night building rooftop, but as with so many things in their life, they adapted.
Change was constant, after all. Lyra was a teenager now. Splinter was no longer with them, though he’d assured his family he couldn’t possibly have imagined a happier life.
A very major and very public battle with the Foot Clan resulted in the turtles being seen, known, and subsequently deemed heroes, invited to mingle with the city. Donnie and Raph ventured about on occasion; Lyra absolutely loved the attention and the opportunity to build a new community.
With the Foot Clan gone, they officially hung up their weapons. Leo had taken the shift hardest, but he’d discovered a love for Japanese ink painting, while Mikey threw himself into podcasting, with his niece as a popular co-host.
Casey and April had retired and purchased a new house, in the countryside upstate. They were getting old, and city life wasn’t for them anymore.
Donnie enjoyed the extra time to build and tinker, even though his hands ached a lot more than they did twenty years ago. Raph took the shift to a peaceful life best of all, spending his time happily working in the kitchen.
They’d found a new rooftop date spot, the remnants of the old Waldorf Astoria Hotel, where Donnie eagerly unwrapped the silvery tinfoil from around the homemade empanada. He appreciated Raph’s newfound culinary skills most of all.
“Scrumptious,” Donnie moaned, chowing down shamelessly. “It’s our 25th, though. Are you sure you didn’t want something more traditional?”
Mouth full of empanada, Raph shrugged. “What am I going to do with silver jewelry? Nah, when we make it to 50, then get me something gold. Somethin’ real fancy.”
“Deal.”
Year 30: Pearl
The older they got, the more they enjoyed the simple things. And simple moments.
Like being able to just walk into the city’s best boba tea place, and celebrate their anniversary with matcha lattes and tapioca pearls, watching the sun rise.
Year 35: Coral
“Don’t tell me you two are getting baby fever at your age,” Leo chuckled.
“Har har. No, we found this little guy in the sewer. Must be an abandoned pet.”
The tiny turtle in Raph’s hands waited patiently for Donnie to install the filter and sun lamp in its new tank. They’d talked about getting a pet over the years, since Lyra was a full-fledged adult now and busy with her own life, and one came crawling across their path with perfect timing.
“There we go, Copernicus!” Donnie announced. “Your new home!”
The aforementioned turtle was deposited into his tank. It was complete with rocks, plants, and a lovely piece of coral.
“... who said his name was Copernicus?”
“We can workshop it.”
Year 40: Ruby
“Happy anniversary, Dads."
“Well now, what’s this?” Donnie smiled as Lyra set down plates in front of him and Raph: bacon, fried eggs, pancakes, and sliced ruby red grapefruit.
“It was supposed to be breakfast in bed,” Lyra said. She brought two mugs of coffee to the kitchen table next, and set a small plate of fruit down for Copernicus. “But you were both up at the crack of dawn.”
Raph shoved her playfully. “Get outta here, kid. You don’t know how to cook.”
“Excuse you! I learned from the best.”
“Too much fruit there.”
“Both of you old farts need vitamins.” She patted her dads’ faces each in turn. “It’s supposed to be good for all those wrinkles.”
“... m’not old,” Raph protested. Still, he tucked into the breakfast and ate every piece of grapefruit.
Year 45: Sapphire
The climb wasn’t much, just a gentle upward slope toward the pond behind the country house. But Raph stopped twice along the way, legs stiff and knees wobbly, gulping for breath, brushing Donnie off with, “Just enjoyin’ the view.”
His shoulders weren’t as broad as they used to be. Both he and Donnie were wizened, wrinkled, skin pale and shells worn and dull. By the time they reached the pond, a few minutes’ walk away from the house, Raph’s legs were shaking, and he leaned hard into Donnie.
“Should’ve brought your cane,” Donnie remarked.
“Shut up,” Raph muttered. “I ain’t that old. ‘Sides, I got you.”
“Should’ve brought my cane then.”
Raph laughed, thin and wheezy, and Donnie looped an arm around him. Together they were stable, eyes on the pond’s surface, sapphire-blue and glassy under the sunlight. Better than any material gift.
“Forty-five years,” Raph said quietly. “Hell of a run, huh?”
“And plenty more to go.” Donnie slipped his hand in Raph’s, holding it tight. After a moment, Raph squeezed back, swallowing hard.
“I love you, old man.”
“I love you too, Raph.”
They watched the pond shimmer until the sun set on the glittering water, holding each other tight.
Year 50: Gold
“You want a moment, Dad?”
“... Yeah.”
Donnie had his cane this time. Lyra– beautiful, grown up, the best of them both– gave him a hug and wandered back to where the others sat. The country house was as beautiful as the day April and Casey moved in.
Donnie hobbled over to the trees by himself.
The headstone was simple. No epitaph, no flowers, no fuss. Just like Raph wanted. Just a name, two dates, and a tiny engraved sai.
A few feet away, worn but covered in fresh flowers, was Splinter’s headstone.
Donnie eased himself to the ground, bit by bit. Instead of facing the headstone, he stretched himself out next to it, joints creaking the whole way. It felt better to be lying side-by-side.
“Hey tough guy,” Donnie murmured, voice cracking. “Fifty years, huh? Feels like only yesterday we celebrated our first. We had a hell of a run, didn’t we? ”
Slowly, Donnie put his wrinkled hand on top of the ground. Wildflowers had grown in abundance there. “Remember what you said? I could give you something gold for our fiftieth. I didn’t bring anything, but I’ve got this: we never needed anything shiny, because you were my gold.”
Donnie paused, picturing Raph groaning and shoving him for that one.
“We all miss you,” Donnie continued softly. “Casey’s going to come chat with you and play it cool, but that old lunk’s been broken-hearted. Lyra, well, she’s being so brave. She gets that from you. I know you’re worried about her. Don’t be, she’s got so many friends, and you raised a great kid.”
The wind stirred, ruffling the wildflowers.
“Me? Nah, don’t worry about me. Couldn’t have asked for a happier life.” Smiling, Donnie ran his hand through the wildflowers. “Happy anniversary, Raph. I’ll be along as soon as it’s my time.”
Donnie stayed right there, lying next to the headstone, until the setting sun splashed gold across the ground.