A/N: Hello, dear readers! I'll try to keep this brief! I haven't posted anything on here in ages, but I'm super in to TMNT now and couldn't resist! This story will consist of many letters from my favorite turtle, Donatello, addressed to Ms. April O'Neil. I'm big into April and Donnie as a couple, so these letters will explore a lot of the different concepts of the pairing. A quick warning: this fic is on the higher end of K+. There will be some swearing and mature themes, but I don't think it's quite worthy of a T rating.

I hope you enjoy it! And if you do, please don't forget to let me know what you think of it! I appreciate any and all reviews!


Disclaimer: I do not own Teenage Mutant Turtles or any of its characters. This applies to all chapters.

Dear April,

I'm a coward. I always have been. When my brothers and I were young and first beginning our training, I was always the last to dive into battle. I wasn't skilled like Leo, I wasn't strong like Raph, and I certainly didn't dive head first into everything like Mikey. I was hesitant, and I cost me. I think it's gotten better, thanks to Sensei's guidance, but it's still there, you know? I guess it's because I think too much. I think when I'm busy, and when I'm bored, and when I'm tired, and when I'm stressed. I also think when I'm scared, which is my problem, I believe. This new "fight without thinking" thing that Master Splinter taught me is helping, but… I don't know. Maybe that's why the bo is such a good weapon for me; it gives me something to focus on between each strike, each jab, each blow. You have to think, 'how am I going to bring that side of the staff onto my opponent's left shoulder from where it is now?' It's all about getting from one place to the next swiftly and effectively. It's those moments between strikes, jabs, and blows that scare me most, which is why the bo staff is a good match. Even if the moves have become second nature at this point, those moments of movement between the lines are what keep me brave.

But I don't feel so brave. Ever since we got a painful taste of The Shredder's power, everything feels different. In less than four months we had gone from never even seeing a person in the flesh to waging war against the most terrifying person I can think of. I'm scared shitless and all I can tell myself is 'keep fighting, keep inventing, keep fighting, keep inventing…'

I'm a coward in other ways, as well, which marks an end to this lengthy introduction: I can't even talk to you without my heart racing and the blood rushing to my face. I've studied both the turtle and human anatomy in full, and I can say without a doubt that what you do to me is not normal. That's why I'm writing this letter and probably many to come, I suppose: so I can vent all my thoughts and fears and observations and hypotheses onto paper. I know I'll never actually send you any of these, but I think I feel a little better already.

With love,