Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter One: Nightmares Return

"Donatello, my son! Hurry!" His master called out. It was easier said than done. When debris and massive amounts of water were keeping you from trying to catch up, it was hard. Water was rushing and even Leo was having a hard time trying to keep up with their father as they struggled to avoid the rising water.

Nearby construction had started to cause collapses on supporting walls within the sewers. Donatello could vaguely remember the sudden explosions and then the massive chaos that ensued.

"I-I'm trying!" The young ten year old turtle called out. The young turtle was not exactly scared of heights like his eldest brother had been, but rather, he was scared of drowning. How ironic considering he was a turtle…

Splinter never got the chance to reach down and grab his son before an explosion and the pain of a massive rock hitting his head. Donatello felt himself losing consciousness as he hit the water below…

Donatello jerked awake from his bed. Sweat covered him and he found himself shivering as the 15-year-old glanced down and saw his blankets were lying on the cold concrete below.

"Not again…" Donnie murmured as he rubbed his forehead to sooth a headache that had already started to form. Over the past few years, the young turtle hadn't really had dreams about the tragedy in his past. Mostly because the small turtle had come to accept the fact that the tragedy had already happened, and he needed to get on with his life.

However, it still did not stop nightmares and dreams that came about from his dead family. Family…a word he described with mixed feelings. He had no family for almost a year until he turned 12. That was when he accidently revealed himself to an elderly Japanese couple when he saved them from a mugger.

The couple, Akira and Sorano, had never once told anyone about their small friend who was not a human who often visited them (and more than often, he often stayed at their house during the winter months). Akira was a gentle old man who had studied martial arts up in his youth and throughout most of his adult life when he immigrated to the United States in the 1950s. Despite the internal racism of the American people at the time and especially post World War II era, the man had found success in the restaurant industry and preserved it.

Well, as for Sorano, she was a woman who loved to cook for Donatello and for the local soup kitchens. So naturally, they took kindly to the quiet turtle coming and going during the summer months.

Pushing himself out of his bed, the turtle wearily got up and walked into the small kitchen area of his "home." Despite the pain the sewers had caused him in the past five years, he had found a small area of the sewers that he had stayed in off and on. Now that he was 15 and his love for computers and electronics grew, the small lair of his turned into a small home for him. Donatello's main reason for staying in the sewers was because he knew Master Splinter would have wanted it for him.

However, the winter months were upon him and Donatello, despite his best ability to keep his small lair warm in the winter months and easily hidden thanks to technology, knew the chances of him becoming very sick again was high if he risked staying in the sewers any longer than he had to. It was already late October and while there had only been a few light snows for the winter, the teenage turtle knew the worst weather was still to come.

Donatello blinked as he opened his small refrigerator and gave a small groan. There was no milk left and he had already run out of coffee a few days ago.

"I guess it is water and bagels again," he told no one in particular. How odd. He was talking to himself as if there was company in the kitchen to listen to him talk. In all honesty, Donatello wondered if it made him crazy, he liked to talk to himself. It had been proven

In the first two or three years living here, Donatello had pretended occasionally, he was having breakfast with his entire family here. Mikey would still provoke Raph by stealing the last bit of cereal. Leo would be trying to get Mikey and Raph to quit fighting while Splinter would be watching television (on the television that Donatello had fixed and repaired for the entire family to use) of some strange soap opera. Then they would be off in the dojo training after breakfast.

Yeah, those days lasted up until Donnie started to hit his 13th birthday and finally realized that, despite him pretending, he would not be having a breakfast like that again. Now, Donatello simply talked to himself to help keep from going mad.

Several minutes into his "breakfast" and watching television, a ringing sound brought Donatello's attention to his shell cell – a mobile cell phone like device he had created to talk with the Akira family if they ever needed anything in an emergency – and he answered.

"Hello," Donatello replied, sounding a bit cheerful. Hmm…maybe he was excited to talk to someone other than himself for a change.

"Hello, Donatello. Sorano was wondering if you were still coming by tonight to help repair the oven. We would call a repairman, but since you are a smart child…" Akira's voice sounded amused as he trailed off.

Donatello smiled and resisted the urge to point out he was no longer a child but did not. Akira had always called him child almost from the moment he rescued the elderly couple, "Sure Akira. I understand. I'm not busy right now anyways." Which translated to, 'I have nothing else I'm doing than besides playing with my experiments and training.'

"Thank you, child. Blessed are we to have you in our lives," Akira replied which made Donatello blush and beam inside. Yes, the Akira family was his family in so many ways.

"No…it is nothing. See you in a small bit," Donatello replied. The turtle heard the click on the other before he hung up his shell cell. Now he had just an entire day to find something to do until he went to Akira’s house.

Time supposedly helps heal wounds. It is supposed to help ease the pain anyone feels in their life when they have experienced problems and loss. Time is also supposed to help you learn to eventually move on with your life, especially after you have lost a loved one.

'Sure,' Splinter thought, 'time may help ease wounds but it does not make you stop thinking about that loved one.' The elder rat, in many times in the past five years, often reflected on losing people in his life. He lost his Master Yoshi to the leader of the Foot Clan and five years ago, he lost one of his sons.

The rat was never one to really try and focus on the pain in his life when his sons were present. However, since his sons were currently off playing video games (mostly Raphael and Michelangelo) or in the dojo, he found the best time to think was when he had the peace and quiet. Now, he read a journal to try and help make sense...of what…he could not really explain…

Journal #1 – January 10

Hello…my name is Donatello. Wow, that was a great introduction. I'm just glad I finally got a journal I can write in. Hopefully I will fill this journal full of lots of memories and details. Anyways, back to me.

I guess I am not what you would call normal. You see, 9 years ago I was covered in strange ooze which mutated me into what I am now.

What was I, you ask? Well, I was born like any normal turtle. Yes, I was born a turtle. Hard to imagine huh? Anyways, I was just a normal baby turtle until one day some canister of a strange liquid fell down a storm drain and covered not only me, but my brothers as well.

We were mutated into walking, talking turtles. I guess I would say that my brothers and I are all turtles that can walk and talk. We all have our own special personalities and abilities that separate us from humans. First off, we are ninjas (more like ninjas in training) and our father is a giant rat.

Well, we call our father Master Splinter because he is training us in the art of ninjutsu. (At times, I admit, I would prefer to be playing with the electronics Master Splinter has found in the nearby junk than training. I hate the idea of hurting someone else…)

Anyways, back to my brothers…there are four of us. Each of us wears ninja masks. (Though the ones we have now look like a bandana over our head rather than an actual ninja mask. I'm afraid to point that out to one of my brothers who just adores these things.)

Leonardo is the oldest and he wears blue. Raphael is the second oldest and he wears the color red. Then there is me, Donatello, the second youngest and the one who wears the best color: purple. Finally, there is the baby of us, Michelangelo who wears orange.

I really do not remember how purple became my favorite…

Splinter put the journal down. He felt no reason to continue reading the first entry again. He had read it almost a hundred times at least. The thought of simply reading the journal again did not seem to make any sense either.

Today, Splinter had ended his morning practices early when he felt distant…distracted. He had not really been paying close attention to how his sons were sparring (especially Michelangelo who was taunting Raphael more than once this morning in particular).

Lately, his recent mediations had been leaving him tired and confused. What kept coming up in his meditations was his long dead son, Donatello. Though Splinter often thought of Donatello, he had not seen his dead son in his meditations in years. No, it pained him to think of the small turtle that did not grow into a teenager with his brothers now…

He had been stupid to even risk the idea of coming this far away from the comforts of their lair to simply train the boys. At least, he would like to take the blame. When he visited this area of the sewers days prior there was no sign of construction or any type of sign of human activity since the tunnel had been constructed.

However, within the chaos and continuous search of his missing son, time had passed too quickly with any hope of finding the young turtle alive. He had been searching for weeks now. For any sign of the turtle, he had revisited the area of the collapse numerous times.

However, the water was too deep to attempt to swim in. His sons were excellent swimmers, but he did not risk them swimming in that water, especially when he investigated the cause of the collapse. There, within the rubble and ruined tunnels, was a familiar type of ninja Splinter had known too well.

Foot Ninja.

He would recognize the way they were dressed anywhere. Besides, even if the Foot Ninja did not keep wearing their clothes from when Oroku Saki attacked his Master Yoshi in Japan, Splinter recognized the emblem the humans wore on their uniforms.

The rat resisted the strongest urge to go and start attacking the humans. The rat had three reasons: one for causing the collapse and flood in the sewers, two for working for the Shredder, and three for causing more pain to his family. However, Splinter had three reasons not to risk exposing himself to the humans. Those three reasons lay in bed back home, incomplete without the fourth there to make them whole.

Splinter slowly edged away from the humans and took the long way back home. He stopped every now and then to make sure he was not being followed and moved quietly through the sewers. The rat moved to make a right turn when he stopped. He noticed a small piece of wood in the water.

It was not unusual to find random items in the sewer water…however this did not seem to belong in the water. It belonged back home Splinter noted as he bent down and picked up the piece of wood. He recognized it instantly as the bo staff he had been allowing Donatello to carry around. Though all of his sons had been training in different weapons and were only allowed to carry them at certain times, Donatello had been wearing his when he fell into the water…

Splinter resisted the urge to break down as he studied the broken staff. Blood stained the purple cloth that Donatello had wrapped around the staff. Though the water had smeared most of the blood, the cloth was still stained with a deep red. He was too late…

It was not unusual for Akira in his youthful days to borrow money. However, even he knew the rent for his apartment was too high for him to continue to pay. The man owed money to Oroku Saki. In his youthful days, the old man had wasted his money on gambling debts he owed. Now, he had come to that same man asking for leeway for the money due on the apartment that Saki had provided for him to live in for the past 15 years.

Akira knew Saki would come to collect. Saki had tried to collect the money Akira owed almost five years ago when a young, mutated turtle saved himself and his wife. Unknown to the turtle, the 'mugger' was an untrained Foot Ninja. The ninja's task had been simple…kill an old couple for the money Akira owed Saki.

While Akira and Sorano were surprised to have been rescued by the turtle, they would never forget the young turtle who they had grown attached to.

The young turtle had accidently revealed himself that night and from then on, the couple had taken to liking him as if he was their own son. Donatello had been a quiet and broken soul when he had saved them. While they knew they did not entirely help heal the wounds of the turtle's past (though the turtle was still weary to mention anything of his past), the turtle seemed to enjoy the company of the elderly couple.

Akira was brought from his thoughts as when his front door was kicked down. In full view was the Shredder…the man also known by the Japanese community as Oroku Saki. The older man reached for the shell cell that the young turtle had given them. While he knew the young turtle never stood any chance against him, he pushed the panic button anyways. He hoped the young turtle would stay away if the recording device activated by the panic button would keep the turtle away.

He just wished he had been able to tell Donatello more…

"Leo, it is freezing tonight. Can't we just skip training to stay in the warm sewers?" A voice complained.

Up on the rooftops, three turtles stood as they moved around to try and keep warm in the cold weather. The sun had gone down an hour before and the weather was already bad. Snow was coming down and covering the city in a blanket of snow.

"Can it Mikey. You aren't the only one cold," a thick Brooklyn accent replied to the previous voice. Raphael eyed Michelangelo as the two turtles shivered.

Leo resisted the urge to roll his eyes, "Look guys. Just a quick run and we will head back." The oldest turtle was cold but even he could not deny he wanted to be out of the sewers. Also, this run would give him a chance to clear his head. While he loved his two brothers, he could not deny they got on his nerves often. Both gave him headaches and almost gave him several ulcers from making him worry so much.

A smirk formed on his face as he recalled another brother who would tease about ulcers. His second youngest brother, Donatello, would have teased along with Mikey that he needed to learn to loosen up.

Donatello would simply have stated, "Leo, at least Mikey keeps you from going insane by his crazy jokes." The smirk on Leo's face was not necessarily a depressed one but it did sadden him that their dead brother was no longer with them.

"Uhh…Leo? Ya gonna keep staring off into lala land?" Raph asked.

Leo turned towards his brothers and simply brushed the smirk off. Judging by how Leo had been staring into space, Raphael figured it might be because Splinter had been distracted a lot lately.

It had concerned all three of the turtles. Their master did not explain what was on his mind, but they had hoped the rat would eventually tell them.

"No, come on. Let's go," Leo replied and took the lead.

Donatello walked quietly through the snow as he stood wearing clothes to keep himself from freezing in the snow. The distance between his home and Akira's residence was about two miles. Normally the quiet turtle would have avoided wearing clothes, but it was easier for him to appear as a human in clothes when it was snowing.

It made "blending in" all easier when he was covered up with human clothes. His brown bag hung by his side and his bo staff in his hand. Though hidden by his clothes, Donatello stayed away from busy streets and took to walking in the alleyways to avoid human contact. This was why he was walking down an alleyway now.

For the most part, his route to Akira's residence worked. He had a few people here and there that tried to mug him, but he always managed to knock them out without creating much of a scene.

"I can't wait to get there," Donatello whispered as his teeth clattered together. The turtle got his wish when he rounded the corner and stopped when he heard screaming. Frowning, he used his old ninja training to blend in the dark.

A man stood outside of the apartment building that the Akira's lived in dressed in a full metal suit. Don blinked his eyes and wondered if he had his mask on too tight. There was a human dressed in armor? He watched idly until he heard screaming again.

Alarmed, the turtle moved to where he could see better by moving towards the shadows again. This time he took cover behind some trash cans in the alleyway he had been walking down. The turtle scanned him with his eyes when he heard another loud scream. To his shock, he saw Akira and Sorano out in the snow.

"Akira! Sorano!" He whispered loudly to himself. What was going on here? He waited several seconds as he saw a group of humans form closer around the man in the armor. He studied them a bit longer before he realized they were dressed as…ninjas?

Gripping his bo staff, Donatello felt anger arise. He was fixing to move again when he heard footsteps from behind him and Donatello, despite his advanced hearing, turned to meet the welcoming of more of these ninjas coming towards him.

"What is this? A spy?" One asked. Donatello's eyes surveyed the group of ninjas in front of him. There were too many to count but he could see at least 15 or so surrounding him.

"We must eliminate all witnesses," a figure walked up between the ninjas and Donatello was shocked to notice a rather large man with blonde hair. The turtle gulped. He could handle small thugs here and there since he continued to practice his training that Master Splinter had wanted him to know…but this man was LARGE. He had a familiar tattoo on his arm. Where had he seen that tattoo before?

Akira's blood curdling scream was all that Donatello needed before he brought his bo staff in front of him. The Akira family needed him, and he would help…even if he had to go through this large man to do it and these ninjas.

However, he could not stop the sudden fear that had risen from his stomach…

Chapter Text

Chapter Two: What Was Lost…Now Found? Part 1

"Master Splinter?" The young turtle called. Pounding pain emerging from his head. A small hand moved up to his aching head and was surprised to feel something wet on his now dry head. Somehow, he had the feeling he had seen this type of liquid often (when you lived with three brothers, you were often bound to see it) and would always see it. He often saw it when Michelangelo and himself would stay up late past their designated bedtimes to watch “medical shows.”

Unfortunately, the color here seemed realistic and not unlike his imagination and old textbooks he found when they were looking for supplies in dumpsters.

Donatello moved his small hand in front of his face and saw the rust color on his fingers. He would know that liquid anywhere even in those pictures and movies. It was blood.

At least that would explain why his head was hurting. He vaguely remembered a giant rock falling from the ceiling and hitting him in the head…then the water gushing over him. Struggling to breathe…

The young turtle shivered, "Master Splinter?"

There was no answer again. Surely the young turtle's father would find him soon, right? Right? He would be back home unharmed with his brothers within a few hours max, right?

Leonardo came to a quick halt in the run when he turned around to stare at his brothers. The youngest turtle was currently "running" from an angry Raphael when Mikey had "accidentally" knocked a large amount of snow from a rooftop onto the second oldest turtle.

Leo decided to come to stop their run when he had heard a massive 'bomp' and he glanced over his shoulder to see Raphael covered in snow and Mikey just laughing and struggling to stay upright from his laughter. Raph seemed angry (or if he would say it, pissed off) …there was no other way to describe it. His angry brother had already been hating the weather they were currently running through and Mikey pulling that prank…

Well, the oldest turtle knew it could be quite possible for Raph to melt the snow that currently covered his entire body by the time his temper simmered high enough.

It would take about ten seconds for the mental image of Raphael's blood pressure and anger rising high enough to actually melt snow to leave his mind. Leonardo shook his head. Sometimes his mind was a little too overactive when trying to be a leader.

Of course, after messing with Raphael enough, Michelangelo would come to Leonardo for protection and then a fight would start between Raphael and himself.

It made him really think none of them were taking this training session seriously. Then again, he was having a tough time taking his own training session seriously this run. His thoughts drifted elsewhere on their own habits for him to stay completely focused on the training run.

Often, the brothers were too busy trying to kill each other, run for their lives, or simply hope no one killed each other. The fights, the drama, and the energy from each individual turtle

Yes, he loved his brothers.

Unfortunately, Leonardo's thoughts drifted to his dead brother. Donnie should have been out here with them. He should be the one helping keep Mikey entertained or trying to help Leo to stop Raph from killing Mikey. He turned away from his brothers and stared down at the people walking on the streets, trying to get into warm buildings to avoid the freezing weather. A frown appeared on his face.

The oldest turtle often thought of their dead brother. In a weird way, he felt guilty for his brother not being here in the first place. Maybe if he had been the last turtle up instead of following Splinter when the water began to raise…Donatello may have been still here.

"Uhh…Leo, you, okay?" Leo turned towards Raphael.

"Yeah, just thinking about some unpleasant memories…" Leo looked at Raph and noticed the concern look on his face.

Raph frowned slightly and put a hand on his shoulder, "Are they about Don?"

The brothers very mentioned their late brother unless certain milestones or events happened that reminded them. They seldom mentioned their late brother around their father this time of year.

Mikey, who had been in the middle of trying to untangle himself from the clothes Raph had just started to wrap him up in and proceed to leave the youngest turtle there, peeped over to look at his brothers when he heard Don's name mentioned. He felt a pang in his heart and could not find his voice.

Michelangelo and Raphael both knew the anniversary of them losing Donatello was approaching. It had been the first two years for the family, but Leo and Master Splinter were the worst ones to fall back onto the past and feel regret.

Leo gave a simple silence not in response to the question.

Fortunately, unlike Mikey for a change, Raph had found his voice, "Do ya think that has been what's been bothering Master Splinter?"

Leo nodded

"That has some things to do with it. Master Splinter rarely talks about what happens even with me during mediation. However, I cannot help but feel guilty at times when we are out here without our other brother. Maybe Master Splinter feels the same way,” Leo replied.

"Look Leo, don’t go and get on a guilt trip when we are in the process of having fun."

Both older turtles looked at their baby brother who had surprisingly managed to get out of the clothes Raphael had managed to trap him in.

Raphael made a mental note to try harder to find a way to get Mikey back. His younger brother may not seem like a good ninja but even Raphael secretly had to admit that Mikey could put his skills to use when he wanted to.

"Yeah yeah…"

A scream alerted the turtles and they stared at each for a split second before taking off in the direction of the scream.

"Finally, something fun to do on this run!"

Over the past five years, Donatello knew he was nowhere near the level he needed to be when he was surrounded by a group of human ninjas ready to attack him. Part of the main reason was because the purple banded turtle never really got to get further training from Master Splinter in the art of using the bo staff (or any other weapon for that matter).

Secondly, while Akira had taught him some knowledge of martial arts and had tried his best to teach Donatello katas with the bo, he realized he was not entirely on the level as these ninjas were.

He had two clues to help him come to his theory. One was that most of these ninjas were easily tiring him out after taking out part of the group that had surrounded him. The second was he never realized he would be in an actual battle against any real ninjas and his fear kept on rising when the ninjas never seemed to vanish.

The turtle threw his bo towards a group of ninjas as he rushed his way past the ninjas that had surrounded him. The bo swirled in the air and knocked into three ninjas. Donatello leaped into the air and grabbed the bo as he charged forward in the massive number of ninjas surrounding the Akira family.

'Note to self. Next time you get into a fight, make sure you are not wearing any more clothes…' Donatello thought as he struggled to move faster while wearing the clothes.

The turtle stopped running when he was once surrounded again by the large man and even more ninjas. He panted for a slight second before he yanked the clothes off his body. Donatello had a feeling he would fight better if the clothes were off. Normally he would hate revealing what he was to an enemy but desperate time calls for desperate measures. Luckily, he still had his bag with him which held "nice" surprises he could use if needed.

The large man took small steps toward Donatello, who gripped his bo staff tightly. The turtle's quick mind quickly recognized the tattoo on the man's arm. He had seen the tattoo on other gang members who would often attempt to "mug" Donnie when he was out on the surface. It was often considered a “right of passage” to new and young members who had officially joined the street gang.  

The tattoo itself was a purple dragon and belonged to a gang called the Purple Dragons. Donnie only had a few experiences with small members of the gang when they tried to attack him or something else. The first time he had seen the tattoo, the genius turtle had nothing better to do and researched the tattoo.

The information he found out about the Purple Dragons had disturbed him. At times, they were a well-organized street gang doing white collar and blue level crimes. Other times according to news outlets and police reports, they were disorganized. However, the large man in front him was wearing black like the rest of these ninjas. The man was large and had blonde hair. He also had scratch/claw marks on his face well.

Seconds passed as neither the ninjas nor the large man made a move. Donatello kept a defensive stance. He knew time was wasting and he was really concerned about Akira and his wife. That had been Akira's scream and he had seen a man in body armor which was metal.

"Interesting…" the large man's voice finally broke through the silence, "This turtle fights like the old style like the others use."

Don raised an eye ridge in confusion. Others? Then again, having seen other kinds of ninjas in New York City besides himself was unheard of.

"Which makes me wonder why we have not come across this turtle before," the man continued. Don frowned.

"I prefer to stay out of people's business. At least until they attack people I care about."

Another blood curdling scream reached Donatello's ears and he realized by now he was too late. Grief and pain rushed into his heart. That scream had been Sorano's. The kind elderly woman was gone.

How could this be happening to him again? He had already lost his family but now he was losing another family. The turtle gripped his bo staff and charged forward. No, he would not give the large man a chance to respond. He would take care of these ninjas and then he would go after the man in the metal armor.

Oroku Saki was glad indeed. One debt paid off…well, in a sick twisted way. Akira should have known better than not to pay him back the money that he owed. Though Akira had once been a respected martial arts master and a man who had specialized in several types of weapons and fighting styles, he needed to be eliminated. The last fifteen years or so had proved that the old man and his useless wife had no useful knowledge of his enemies.

In all reality, Saki did not really see the need to simply murder an elderly couple for money they owed. However, Akira was very well respected in the terms of martial arts. Saki did not need an elderly man trying to talk teenagers out of joining the Foot Ninja or the Purple Dragons all with a food business and truck. Any person that could help get him one step closer to his enemies was his main goal in the end.

No, Saki was glad to have been rid of one minor annoyance. The fire from the building danced wildly in front of him and he watched through his armor.

Turning around and walking back to where Hun was supposed to have kept the police distracted long enough, the Shredder was surprised when he noticed a turtle surrounded by Foot Ninja.

How was this possible? How could the turtles have followed him here? He watched for surprise for a few seconds as the young turtle swung a bo staff at Hun, who dodged it and swung a fist towards the turtle.

"It does not seem possible but this…turtle cannot be one of the same turtles' who always infer with my plans. He fights with a bo staff and his movements are much weaker than the other turtles."

How odd and ironic that he had managed to learn there was a fourth turtle. Yet, he was curious as to why this turtle was here. Shredder recalled the other turtles each wore red, blue, and orange. They also never carried a brown bag with them nor did the turtles use a wooden staff as a weapon.

He slowly approached the fight. This was interesting indeed…

Donnie felt his jaw aching in pain. The large man had managed to land a fist towards his mouth. Not only that but his body was exhausted, and he was cold. Despite fighting and trying to take on a man who knew every dirty trick in the book, the young turtle was running on his last reserves.

"Give it up turtle. There is no way you can beat me," Hun stated. Don panted slightly and looked at his surroundings. The ninjas had closed closer into the fight. Though they had not joined in trying to take Donatello out, he knew they were reducing his chances of escaping this.

However, anger and grief had flooded the smart turtle's mind. He was not fighting very well.

"Why did you attack Akira and his wife?" Donnie breathed out; his breath coming in short pants. His jaw ached with the movement of talking and he knew needed to stall for him to escape. If only he could reach the smoke pellets!

"I believe the better question is why you fight similar to Hamato Yoshi," Hun replied. Hun would recognize those familiar katas and move anywhere. He wondered if his master had noticed it as well. This turtle was different from the other three. It was as if this turtle had no clue that they were the Foot Clan.

Donatello blinked. He heard that name before. When he was younger, he would often recall Master Splinter talking about his Master Yoshi. His quick mind instantly connected the dots. This man knew of Splinter's master.

Chapter Text

Chapter Three: What Was Lost…Now Found? Part 2

"My sons, your brother…Donatello…will not be coming back home," Splinter regretted each word. The look on his small sons' face made the rat feel like he had aged. His heart went out for his sons, and he wanted nothing more than to comfort them, but how could he?

How could Splinter comfort his sons when he was dealing with his own pain? For the first time to Leonardo, who was trying his best not to break down in front of their sensei, Splinter did not have all the words he wished to hear. Splinter always would have a way to answer their questions. But when Michelangelo had asked when Donatello would be coming home soon…

Leonardo shivered. Donatello, his little brother, would be coming home. There was no way that Donnie would stay missing for long. It was not the first time that one of them had gotten lost in the sewers.

It was his 13th birthday. Nothing big and nothing special.

Well, it was supposed to be a birthday that was big and special, anyways. However, Mikey recalled that this day met with the same silence and darkness that covered their home too often.

March 20th used to be a day that was usually celebrated in happiness, celebration, takeout food, and of course the fun. The best thing about anyone’s birthday was that there was no training, unless it was Leonardo’s.

(Said turtle had somehow managed to convince Raphael last year that a game of tag would not be training even after Michelangelo had devoured too much cake. This year that was not happening!)

There would be a massive amount of presents for a certain brother who was quite shy on his birthday. Sadly, the orange masked turtle remembered, this day was now probably one of the darkest days of the year.

The lair was silent, and Mikey noticed none of his brothers had made their way into the kitchen yet. Mikey was up extremely early today. He knew it was a birthday and it deserved to be celebrated with happiness, even if the rest of the family members did not feel that way. Don’s birthday reminded Michelangelo that he existed. Donatello’s memory deserved to be honored on his birthday. Today was going to be different.

Why, it was Mikey's idea to have the entire family together on this day instead of sulking in their rooms.

Today was Donnie's birthday. Ever since his older brother had passed away, Donnie's birthday as more as the morning of a funeral than celebrating what time they had enjoyed with Donatello. Unlike the actual date of the accident, his birthday seemed to bring up even more pain for everyone.

Mikey was determined to change that this year. For when it is your 13th birthday, it is the time you start to enter your teenage years and grow into a man (at least, for a certain turtle named Leonardo who was trying to act more like a man than Raphael or Mikey himself). So, Michelangelo decided instead of trying to focus on the sadness that Donnie would not be celebrating his 13th birthday; rather Mikey chose they would celebrate it for him. To celebrate his life.

Everything had been all set. A small birthday cake that both Master Splinter and Michelangelo spent a couple of hours baking last night. The cake tasted like espresso, vanilla, and chocolate. It sounded gross but thanks to his father’s sense of taste and smell, it had a taste of espresso and coffee that Mikey secretly knew Donnie would have loved. Now, it was just the matter of stopping himself from digging into the cake. He loved sweets and he quietly wondered if Master Splinter was eager to try the recipe they had made together.

Both Michelangelo and Master Splinter sat at the breakfast table, waiting calmly as they could for the entire family to be there. The only missing two were, of course, Raphael and Leonardo.

"Michelangelo, go see what is keeping your brothers this morning," Splinter ordered in a nice tone. Though his sensei did sound happy this morning, Mikey knew that it was more of a forced tone coming from the rat. Mikey knew that it was an act more than likely to help Michelangelo’s and his brothers’ pain on a day like this. Donatello was on Splinter's mind more than ever this morning.

"No problem, sensei."

Mikey walked towards the dojo, where he last recalled seeing both Raph and Leo at. Coming from the sounds in the dojo, the two brothers were currently sparring and talking. The orange masked turtle raised an eye ridge in surprise. They weren't fighting? That was exceedingly rare. The older the two turtles got, the more moodier they had become.

Peeking through the door to call them to come to the breakfast table he stopped when he heard Raphael’s voice.

"I don't understand why Masta Splinter decided to let Mikey actually go through with celebrating Don's birthday today. He ain't even here to celebrate it with us."

Mikey frowned. Of course, Raphael would not even want to acknowledge that today was Donnie's birthday (even if he was no longer here to celebrate it). The sounds of a katana meeting a sai and then a quick movement to the left made Mikey back away from the door and sink to the floor.

"Mikey was the one that took the longest to get over what happened, remember?"

"Ya kidding Leo, Mikey still hasn't gotten over it." Clash, clunk. An angered and hurt growling noise from Raphael met the youngest turtle's ears.

Could he really be hearing Leonardo and Raphael talk about him missing Don that way? Were the two already over that their other baby brother was not with them on his birthday? No! He clearly remembered how the other two always seemed to be…off when Donnie was ever brought up by name or in passing.

Mikey frowned and slowly fought back a rush of tears that were forcing their way out. No, if Leo and Raph had their way, they would just like that Donnie mentioned or thought of again. At times, even Splinter seemed the same way…

What was wrong with his family? Was Mikey wrong in wanting to acknowledge Donnie's 13th birthday? A mere two weeks before his own?

Donatello hurt. His jaw hurt. Blood was seeping from the inside of his lip, and he knew his jaw was badly bruised. The blood tasted like a rusty iron and left a terrible taste. Secretly, Don hoped that his jaw was not fractured.

The young turtle leaned heavily on his bo staff as he waited for the large man's next move. The man kept charging and was not allowing Donatello the chance to even use any smoke pellets. He had to stay on the defensive side every time the man charged, or Donatello rushed him.

Though the bo staff was a defensive weapon more than an offensive weapon, the idea of fighting with it was to keep any opponents away from you. The bo staff was a long-range weapon, so it helped keep your opponents away from you. However, the weapon was hard to wield in tight places such as his current predicament.

The ninjas had circled even closer around Donatello and the large man. A quick glance around him made a stone form in his stomach. He wanted to get revenge on these humans for hurting (he did not use the word killed because he refused to accept it, not until he saw it with his own eyes) the Akira family.

Don rushed towards the larger man while Hun grinned. The turtle had not even worn him out. There was no more playing around with the turtle. As the turtle swung the staff towards Hun's head, the large man grabbed the staff with both hands above his head. In a split second, Hun removed the staff from Donatello's hands and broke it in half.

Though, Hun was not expecting the sudden roundhouse kick that met his face when he had grabbed the bo staff. Instead of trying to fight for his weapon back, Donatello used the situation to his advantage.

Finally, for once, the kick dazed the large man. Hun flew backwards into several ninjas, at least making Hun’s landing a little softer. Reaching into his bag, Donatello grabbed some smoke pellets and threw them at the feet of the ninjas. The smoke filled the air within seconds and Don jumped up and courtesy of the taller ninjas, they became a nice landing stool for him to get an escape.

A grip on his foot said otherwise. The turtle's escape was cut short when he felt a strong hand grab his foot. Suddenly, the laws of physics caught up with the turtle as found himself flying around in a circle…

"Raph, slow down! We do not even know what we are getting ourselves into!" Leonardo yelled.

"Oh come on Leo, lay off! All we have to do is break up a little gathering with the Foot," Raphael replied. The red masked turtle was leading with Leo and Mikey running behind.

"Our last little 'break up' resulted in us barely escaping alive," Leo reminded.

Michelangelo took that moment to chime in and looked towards Leo, "But weren't you too busy trying to talk Karai out of hurting us is how we got ambushed by more Foot Ninjas?"

Leonardo resisted the urge to slap his youngest brother and he heard Raphael's snicker. Yes indeed. He had been too busy talking to Karai (trying to persuade her from her current dealings with the Foot which somehow never seem to work).

Leo opened his mouth to respond when they were finally coming upon a fire and smoke just a couple of buildings away. The smoke mixed in with the smell of the city, creating an aroma that made the eldest turtle frown. The smoke made the city smell…wrong.

The turtles stopped and looked towards Leo. For a split second, Leonardo was expecting to see Raphael suddenly charge down and start kicking the shell out of their enemies. Honestly, no one could blame Leonardo for thinking that either. Raphael was sometimes the most predictable (or unpredictable) turtle when it came to these nightly runs.

Leo nodded quietly and approached the edge of the building, as did his brothers. A pained cry made its way up to the turtles' ears.

To their horrific shock, the turtles looked down and saw a dreaded enemy they knew all too well. The Shredder aka Oroku Saki.

But most shockingly, there seemed to be a turtle at his feet, with his "clawed" hand ready to strike…

Chapter Text

Chapter Four: What Was Lost…Now Found? Part 3

One thing was clear. There was no way they could have survived that explosion. No matter how many times he went back before the humans got there, the tunnel was still flooded with water. The turtle frowned and slumped down to the floor of the sewers.

If only he had listened to Master Splinter, they would still be here…

For the first few weeks, he had believed they were alive. No one can just accept death

The day had started with their training. It had not been Donnie's best practice. In fact, it was most likely his worst practice in a long time. Then there had been a fight with Leo and then he ran out of the lair…

That was when everything started to go wrong…

For months Donatello had focused on his grief and denial. Supposedly, there were five stages of grief. If that was the true case, whoever came up with the idea sure did not cover the sixth stage- the fear for his future.

He missed his family more than anything and longed for the comfort of his brothers. The 11-year-old reached up and touched his head from the light fading scar on his head. His memory was still fuzzy about that day.

He remembered something hitting him in the head and waking up far away from home in the sewers. Yet, despite him always trying to memorize the city's sewers, he simply could not figure out where he had woken up.

Donnie had even tried to venture above the surface to find any familiar landmarks that may be familiar or even the Hudson River. Master Splinter had taken them there once younger. Yet, he was nowhere that seemed familiar. Why could he not figure out where he was?

Agent Bishop was not a patient man. He was used to getting things done the way he wanted. He had cheated the American Government so many times it seemed doubtful that it would ever stop. Today was just another day of observation on Oroku Saki and these...turtles. Interesting creatures, they were.  

Saki and the turtles had fought plenty of times before. Three against one hardly seemed unfair, yet here was Saki able to beat these fighting reptiles. Though, Bishop had to admit he would be a far better opponent for the turtles.

He would have to move in on the turtles before Saki – aka known as the Shredder – killed the turtles. Oh yes, he would intervene in their current situation, if it only meant he would get to "experiment" on them later for himself.

Ahh…experimenting…the only true fun he got anymore.

All thanks to his ideas being greatly funded by the American taxpayers. Who would have thought that paying an extra 50 cents on a can of Dr. Pepper would turn out to be a great way to fund his program? Also, with a few of the tax dollars coming in from the popular chain of Starbucks as well?

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes when he noticed one of his men drinking a Starbucks coffee. The man had just used his own money to help continue funding Bishop's program.

Who or what would have thought that the turtles would have a brother so easily defeated? Saki would be getting his revenge against them by taking out one of their own clan members. It was ingenious. Yet… something was off about this turtle.

Saki could tell this turtle had a passive nature. The way he fought against the Foot Ninja was different compared to the other three. He did not seem entirely as experienced in battle.

All well…

Now he had a chance to see one of these turtles…he raised his "clawed" hand towards the injured turtle.

Clink!

A sword struck Saki's armored hand. It was a familiar sword all the way up to the blue cloth surrounding the handle. It was the eldest turtle's sword…

Did he believe his eyes? Was there an injured turtle at the Shredder's feet? But this turtle seems so familiar to him. The olive-green skin, the bo staff laying off to the side of the Foot Ninja.

Leonardo wished he could say that his eyes were playing tricks on him, but they were not. He knew what he was seeing. There was a turtle at the feet of Shredder, and he somehow knew it could have only been one turtle. Mikey and Raphael were standing next to him in the snow…so it had to be that this turtle was Donatello, his "dead" brother.

Yet, there was a part of him that kept saying Donatello was dead…but here was the proof! Right in front of his own eyes! The purple bandana especially was

"I see, you have come to the rescue of one of your pathetic brothers," Shredder stated as he withdrew the sword from his hand. He threw the sword at Leo's feet. He had no reason to try to use the sword when he preferred to strike with his hands. There is nothing like the feeling of his own blades being torn into someone's flesh, especially when he could get revenge on the turtles and the rat by killing one of their own in front of their eyes.

Leonardo did not seem to take the remark but Raphael, however, was another story. Before the oldest turtle could respond, the hot-tempered turtle already had his sai out ready to lash at the Shredder. One glance and Leonardo knew there would be no stopping Raphael unless they all got involved.

The sound of metal hitting metal was all Leonardo needed to hear before the battle began…

Raphael did not know how to deal with pain without taking it out on someone. Sure, he could take it out on Mikey and the punching bag, but it would feel much better right now to take it out on Fearless Leader (as it was the red banded turtle's favorite thing to call his eldest brother).

But then again, taking it out on his oldest brother always left him with a massive amount of guilt later. That would not help him feel better later. But he wanted the satisfaction of releasing it now. Whether it was a bigger hit to his youngest brother's head or to his oldest brother's head, he wanted release it…

Though he couldn't…

Donnie would not want him to take it out on the family. His little brother would not want him to wither away in self-pity (or whatever big words his smart brother would throw in).

Sure, his second youngest brother knew he would want to let it out some way as he could be the hot-tempered kid that he was. Raphael also knew that Donnie would be saying the same thing to Leo.

Leo was probably the only one who even felt possibly even a similar feeling that he was feeling right now.

He was equally protective of his brothers, whether it had to deal with someone ever hurting Leo or looking out for the younger brothers. However, he just knew he always felt like he should have been the one to go. Not Donnie or Mikey. They were the little brothers…they were supposed to watch over the younger brothers. That was in the job description somewhere. To watch over his little brothers…

That was his and Leo's job…

At least it should have been Leo's job as the leader. If the older brother had not feared heights, Donnie would not have been the last one up the later after the explosion but before the waters started to rise…

"Child, why must you live in the sewers? You can easily be hidden up here, where it is warm," Akira remarked. The turtle sitting at his small dinner table was shivering. It was apparent the turtle only came up this year when the worst snowstorm on record in 25 years had hit the city.

Donatello released a breath had been holding as the elderly woman placed an electric blanket around the shivering turtle. The teen eyed her for a second as she shuffled towards the stove, obviously preparing some form of tea to help warm the turtle up.

Donnie resisted the urge to gag. He disliked tea. If there was one thing Donnie did not like, it was tea. No matter how much he remembered Master Splinter forcing them to drink it when they were kids, it never did quite settle with him well. He only hoped it would not be the English Breakfast tea. Of all the teas, that was the worst!

However, he knew better than to request to simply have hot chocolate or coffee. Especially coffee. If he did, Sorano would go off in her native Japanese tongue about ungrateful teenagers and a certain kame who would complain often about tea if he requested not to drink it.

"Akira, I cannot blend in well up here. The last thing we need is someone spotting a five-foot-tall turtle leaving your apartment. Such things are not normal, even in New York. " He dodged the question in a way. Could he say, 'My father would have wanted me to live alone in the sewers' when the answer may not be entirely true?

Akira's response was a sigh.

"Donatello, though I do not know much of the ways of bushido, I do believe you are well equipped to avoid people…"

"Is that because I'm always down in the sewers to make you say that?" An eye ridge raised up.

Oddly enough, a light chuckle escaped from Sorano who walked over from the stove with the heated tea and placed the cup in front of Donatello. He gave the cup a glare and even risked shifting one at the elderly woman who took a seat at the table. The tea was English Breakfast tea again. For a Japanese woman, she never really gave him any oriental teas very much. It was always the English teas…

"No, dear child, he believes that you do exceptionally well in avoiding being detected. The only few problems you ever had was the few crazy kids who involved themselves in gangs, yes?"

Tea forgotten, Donatello shivered again, causing the married couple to look at him in concern. This time he did not shiver because he was cold. It was because of the statement, 'The only few problems were the kids.' Oh, he had more than a few problems in his life.

"Come on! Work!" Sorano was startled when she woke from her afternoon nap. That voice was all too familiar and yet, she pondered why the turtle child was still in her little kitchen still.

Moving slowly from her couch to peer into the kitchen, the elderly woman was not surprised to see the young turtle. Donatello had been visiting while Akira was away on a trip to northern New York state, trying to fix the most annoying household item she ever owned.

Donatello sat on the floor, several small tools lying on the floor next to him and one in his hand. In his hands, was of course, the toaster. She could never quite figure out why it kept breaking. It almost seemed to have a mind of its own every time it broke. The sad problem was the toaster was rarely used and it would break even with each use.

Sorano and her husband had given up on the thing and were saving a bit of their money to work on buying a new toaster. Apparently, Donatello did not see the use of them simply just buying a new toaster with him actually talking to it. The woman resisted the urge to laugh as a big grin appeared on her face.

"This thing seems to taunt me worse than Mikey ever did…" the words sprang from the turtle's mouth. The grin immediately faded. In their time of knowing the child, they had rarely heard him mention anything of his past except light details. She did even know how family members had met a tragic end that accident that made the poor turtle live by himself.

For her to hear Donatello so easily say a name without worry that she would hear, it certainly meant the turtle was focused on the toaster. Her heart ached with pity again for him. She often longed for the turtle to be reunited with his family somehow, but she knew it was not possible. Especially if the explosion in the sewers that caused the collapse and flood the turtle mentioned was caused by Oroku Saki.

Little did the turtle know that Akira had looked up information about the 'construction' that had apparently been taking place in the sewers that day…

"Get the shell away from my brother!" Raphael's sais had blocked the hand. The shaking turtle on the ground had opened his eyes by then. Raph spared a quick glance toward his other brothers' eyes and saw the familiar confusion and pain.

Mikey could hardly believe his eyes. To say the shocked look on Leo's face most likely mirrored his own was an understatement. In a way, he could almost say he was looking at a mirror without officially looking into one.

However, a quick glance at Leo showed that the look on his face had quickly changed to one that eerily resembled Raph's now. Mikey shook his head to clear his thoughts and followed his eldest brother in the charge with one thought on his mind. Is that really Donnie?

No, Donnie died five years ago and drowned in the rushing waters, remember? It was your fault he died and here your mind is playing tricks on you again. Get a grip Leonardo.

Leonardo could not imagine though the Foot would know of Donatello's former existence…or real existence in this case.

Shredder by now had moved his arm to put more effort into pushing the sais away from his hand. He, however, was not expecting to get a roundhouse kick from the other two, sending the man flying into his group of ninjas.

"Mikey, get him out of here!" Leo ordered as he looked at the turtle struggling to stand up now that did not have the immediate threat of killing him within the next few seconds. Whether the turtle was an imposter – which did not feel likely at all – or was Donatello, it was best to get the turtle away from the fight. They could easily make their escape that way.

"Gotcha Leo." Mikey moved carefully as he eyed the turtle first watching the Foot Ninja who oddly had started to retreat at the sight of the turtles. If the situation did not look so serious, the youngest turtle pictured himself or Raphael making a remark about the treating Foot Ninja. However, now was not the time for such a remark as he moved towards the turtle in the snow.

And they say I'm always acting stupid…

He was in pain. That was obvious. He also felt himself starting to lose consciousness. That last hit to his head must have been harder than he thought. He blinked through it and forced himself to try and stay awake. If he were to go unconscious, he could quite possibly die if he had a concussion. Hopefully he did not have a concussion.

However, the pain he seemed to be feeling the most was the bodies of his friends…Akira and Sorano. Was it possible to have emotional pain hurt more than physical pain? If so, then Donatello himself was living proof.

Donatello registered movement at first. He must be getting very nauseous if felt like he was moving. He did not have the strength to move. However, his stomach did not feel like it was turning. More importantly, unconsciousness approached just as he suddenly realized it wasn't his stomach that made him feel like he was moving. He was being lifted.

That was all he realized before the blackness won...

Mediation was not helping. No matter how much he meditated lately, his son Donatello kept putting his mind at unease. Though why?

No matter how many times Splinter tried, he had been restless lately with the thoughts of his dead son. The candles in his room vaguely lit the room, as they flicked slowly. The rat opened his eyes and stared at the candles.

His thoughts traveled once again to the journal that had belonged to Donatello. One of the two things that had survived from his son that Splinter kept locked away in his room. The other was the broken bo staff, which the pieces sat safely locked in a small chest along with the other item. He sighed and opened the journal again, deciding to read it. Yesterday the journal had helped ease his thoughts well enough for him to rest for a few hours and maybe this time his mind would get some answers.

Within seconds, his ears picked up the sound of his sons coming home. He sighed and put the journal back into the chest as he walked out to greet his sons.

He, however, was not expecting to hear the panicking voice of Michelangelo.

"Master Splinter we got a problem!"

Chapter Text

"The happiest moments of my life have been the few which I have passed at home in the bosom of my family." – Thomas Jefferson

Memory loss occurs on all different fronts. But, at one time Donatello wondered if he would ever fully be able to remember more about the day he had lost his family. He still had a small external scar on top of his head from the injury; however, there was always the internal injury that was the real problem of his memory loss.

For a 13 year old, he should have been at least attempting to do something productive and fun, but instead he was schooling himself in an older medical book he had found thrown outside of one of the local libraries. While there were probably more interesting things to be reading, he just could not get his mind off his family lately.

It was one of those small depressions that would not go away, especially considering he could not fully remember the extent of the accident and even a few days after it. It was a miracle he had survived. At one point he thought he remembered seeing an alligator…but that was the same day he woke up in the sewers from the accident.

Would he ever fully be able to remember what happened?

Really, he missed his brother. Raphael was never one to express his emotions properly without taking it out on his brothers. He always expressed himself with anger mostly because that was who he was. He was not going to change that either. He wore his emotions on his 'sleeves' so to speak so that he could be himself.

It was passive in contrast to Donatello. Both Raphael and Donatello had always been vastly different from each other indeed. Donatello had been a quiet, reserved young child while he was the polar opposite of his brothers.

But, maybe that was why Raphael missed his little brother so much…

Shock had come in many different forms in Splinter's life. From the time he saw the Shredder take his beloved Master Yoshi's life to the day Michelangelo was taught how to "sewerboard" as he liked to call it, he had received plenty of shocks in his life.

(In regards to the sewerboarding, he would never get over the time his youngest son had attempted to try and skateboard on a passing subway train. To say the rat almost had a head attack that day was an understatement. If he could have, he would have liked to blame Leonardo and Raphael for encouraging him if they would have quit their bickering minutes earlier.)

However, when he had heard what he thought were his sons coming home, he was not expecting to hear Michelangelo's panicked voice.

Walking from his room, he walked quicker to see what trouble his son's had managed to get themselves into now.

He had not, however, been expecting to see the unconscious bundle that his youngest son was struggling to hold up…

"Raph, we need to get out of here! We're way over our heads!"

Whack!

"Oh really, you didn't notice that ( WHACK!) when Shredder decided to run off and send his ( thack! ) pet out to try and finish the job?"

Leo rolled his eyes and kicked Shredder's pet, Hun, away from him as the man charged forward slowly. Secretly, Leonardo could not help but think Raph's comparison of Hun was correct. Hun did act like a pet with the Shredder more than someone obeying their master's simple commands.

(Vividly, Leonardo shook his head. Now he had an image of Hun following the Shredder around with a leash and had to end up blocking another sword with his own to get rid of the mental image. Geez…thanks Raph.)

"Well, we need to get to Mikey before Shredder catches up!"

To say that the two brothers should have been focusing on getting out their predicament instead of fighting would have been a great idea. In fact, Leo would have been pleased if just one time a normal patrol out with his brothers (or even a training exercise) ever could go normal.

When Mikey had taken off with the other turtle – Leo had refused to acknowledge that it was Donatello yet – the speedy turtle had been able to get away easily. Though he knew Mikey always got annoyed getting sent away from a fight, the youngest turtle was one of the fastest of the three…er…four fighters?

"Mikey is probably already home, Raph!"

Michelangelo was able to use speed so easily when he fought with his nunchaku (which was probably why Master Splinter had the youngest turtle train in them).

(In fact, Leonardo could name several times where their sensei had said that if the youngest turtle would put more thought into his training, he could possibly best Leonardo and Raphael combined if he wanted to.)

However, lost in his concern, Leo had silently prayed to whoever may be listening that Mikey was successful in using his speed but also his stealth to get away.

A quick glance to confirm that Hun was indeed out for the count; he launched a few kicks into the nearby Foot Ninja and looked at Raphael. His hot headed brother sent a quick nod and the two ran in the other direction, taking to the roof tops instantly.

While the two brothers wanted to immediately try and get back to the lair, they knew it would be best to try and lure the Foot away if they decided they were going to follow them home. The sooner they got home, the sooner they could get some answers about what happened here.

"What do you mean you were not able to find information on the fourth turtle? I was told that they were to be monitored at all times."

To say Bishop had been a bit shocked to find out that there had been no information on the fourth turtle, Bishop had hoped there had been one detail that would have hinted at the possibility of the fourth turtle.

"Sir, we just don't have any record of a fourth turtle. However, there are some interesting reports from the NYPD…"

Bishop raised an eyebrow, "Wait, before you open those reports. Search anything in the NYPD database on any crimes committed within a ten block radius of that apartment complex, including crimes committed by the Purple Dragons within the last ten years. If possible, pull up any insurance claims filed within the last five years from residents and businesses as well."

"Agent Bishop, that alone will take forever! The Purple Dragons used to have temporary headquarters set up five blocks northeast of that residence…"

Bishop turned and frowned, as he looked away from the computer and at the man, "Then you better get started. From there, we'll focus on trying to narrow down any crimes. Something tells me there was something more than Saki simply trying to get vengeance on turtles and an elderly couple…"

"Michelangelo, what is going on?" Splinter asked his youngest son as soon as he was able to cover his shock just as quickly. The rat gestured for the youngest turtle to sit their…'guest' on the couch.

A quick glance at the mask made the rat's heart race. It was purple and Splinter could not stop his eyes from moving from the mask to a scar located above the right eye of the turtle.

Small and hardly noticeable, but one he knew would be there. It was the location of where the massive rock had hit Donatello five years ago when the sewers' had collapsed thanks to the Foot. 

"We were just outside messing around in the snow and we heard screaming…then we came across him ," for once, Splinter could tell his youngest son was at a loss for words. (Michelangelo was seldom completely without something to say even if the sentences did not make any sense.) 

"Master Splinter, this can't be Donnie, it can't! Can you tell if it is some trick by the Foot? I know it was bad for me to bring him here because it could be a trap but I just didn't know what to do. And then Leo and Raph decided to help hold Shredder and Hun off long enough so we-"

"Michelangelo! My son! You must calm down. We can discuss your questions later. Right now, your brother needs medical attention-"

"Master Splinter, how do you know even know that is Donni-"

"Michelangelo!" The orange banded turtle looked at his sensei. There was just something about the look on his father's face that seemed to finish the answer to his questions.

How in the shell can Master Splinter trust Donnie ? Mikey thought.

He did not dare ask why. He almost wanted to say it was…denial in his father's eyes combined with the knowing knowledge you normally see in his eyes.

"My son, you must learn to look beyond what your eyes tell you. Whatever these circumstances are, we can discuss later. Right now your brother needs help," Splinter replied watched his youngest son run to the bathroom to grab their first-aid kit.

Splinter's eyes eventually tore themselves off from the youngest turtle to the other one, currently unconscious in his couch. The rat almost did not believe if it had not been the scar that gave it away this truly was Donatello alone.

It had been his son's reappearance in his meditation and sleep over and over again but seeing Donatello, here on his couch, confirmed what the visions had been trying to tell him all along. Donatello was alive!

But yet, he could not help but wonder…why did he not see this five years earlier?

Thud!

He turned towards Michelangelo and took the first-aid kit from his son and looked back towards Donatello. His son appeared to be bruised (the young turtle had an especially bad bruise near his mouth) pretty bad.

After a few moments of accessing the injuries, he could tell the younger's jaw, thankfully, was not broken. It appeared the turtle injured the muscles in his wrist very well and the bruising on the turtle's plastron indicated the bare minimum, bruised ribs.

For the luck of everything, Donatello appeared to have been fortunate enough to walk away without any major life threatening injuries…so far.

It was only then it started to sink in…his supposedly dead son was lying on the couch!

The look on Michelangelo's seemed to be filled with so many questions. He decided then, he would wait until he had all of his sons together. It may possibly help save some explanations…

There was always something about coffee that made Raphael dislike his younger brother. Okay, so maybe he did not dislike Donnie, no…it was just that stench of coffee! For his eighth birthday, Mikey had made Donnie some coffee flavored muffins – by accidently mixing up the coffee Leonardo bought in mistake of the chocolate cake mix (that had been an interesting day).

While no one had liked the muffins, Donatello did (it also may have been the first time anyone had enjoyed Michelangelo's first attempts in cooking). In fact, from then on the younger turtle was always asking, "Hey guys, do you want some coffee? Master Splinter said I could make some so long as someone helps me drink it?"

That was when the coffee addiction had started (and the one time he recalled Donatello had gotten trouble for being so hyper and bouncing off the walls, it had made Michelangelo look like the silent type)

Raphael could vaguely remember a time where Donatello had enjoyed tea, which was often what Master Splinter had enjoyed giving them. Donnie would at times attempt to drink ice tea – Raphael remembered at one point that Donatello had been the only one to drink ice tea when his younger brother did drink it, rather than hot tea – but even then when Donatello had discovered the power of coffee because of those muffins, it had been a shock…

It was then Donatello had stopped drinking tea unless he was sick and coffee had become such an addiction. Then there was the time Mikey switched Donnie's coffee with decaf…ouch. That had been one of the rare times as kids that Donatello had ever been so angry…

However, when they went on one of their first nightly runs over the rooftops and stopped near a Starbucks, the smell of the coffee had almost made Raphael want to break down in tears. Especially Big old Raphael…

Who would have thought coffee would make someone cry?

Splinter never really did want to punish Donatello, he really did not. In fact, if he never had to punish any of his sons again, he would dance with joy in front of his sons. However, life did not work that way.

Donatello had such an inquiring mind about everything that him holding the toaster captive so he could see how it worked was crazy. It was not a brand new toaster but it had been one that looked several years older.

However, when Splinter had found the toaster in working condition and was able to use his spare bit of money to help buy his sons some good tasting foods to put in the toaster…

He had been rather shocked to see the toaster in pieces in Donatello's lap. After that, the disappointment he had felt for his son had increased. Why did Donatello insist on always trying to take things apart?

Yet, it was only when Donatello was gone did Splinter stop and think how much he would love to see Donatello take apart a toaster once more…even if it did irritate him.

When Leonardo entered the lair, he was not surprised to see Mikey and his father in the lair. In fact, he was thankful that his youngest brother had made it back home with their...guest…brother?

He frowned, trying to swallow a wall of emotions that he had never truly been able to heal from in the beginning. His mind flashed back quickly to his fear of heights and seeing Donatello's face…

He shivered and put the memory away…for now. He knew it would nag at him when his mind wasn't on more important issues.

The eldest turtle could not help but see that their 'guest' – he did not allow himself to say brother because all he knew this could even have been an attack on their mediation or something as a way for someone to play a cruel joke on them – was resting on their couch, still unconscious.

However, when Leonardo saw both Michelangelo and Master Splinter watching their 'guest' it made him wonder if his mind was not letting him see what his heart already saw.

In the corner, Raphael stood leaning against the wall, arms crossed as he eyed Splinter and Mikey hovering over their 'guest.' His face was in a downward snarl, meaning something was bothering the second oldest brother. Leo could not, for the first time, feel Raphael's emotions.

He stood back where he was, keeping a watchful eye as two tended to the wounds that the turtle had been upon. However, there was one nagging thought that did not leave his mind. He could recall their 'guest' having a bo…

Consciousness always seemed to be unwelcomed for him. If it was possible to simply sleep the rest of his life for all the pain in his short life, he would. He had a pounding headache, he noticed.

Vaguely, Donatello could remember heading to the Akira's house, fully clothed (as not to attract much attention to a tall walking mutant turtle even with his bo). Then there were humans dressed in black…blood curdling screams…

Pain exploded in his heart and he slowly, achingly moved a hand to slowly rub the pain. It felt like a constant burn, one that he thought healed back when he had lost his family…or did it ever fully heal?

However, the pain was even more present now when he remembered the bodies of Akira and Sorano…their blood in the snow.

To his surprise though, Donatello felt his arm underneath a blanket as he moved his hand in a soothing motion over his heart. More concerned about the sudden arrival of the blanket and wondering why he wasn't dead, the turtle quickly tried to force open his eyes.

One eye hurt and he could barely open it. He was surprised the eye had not swollen shut. Though, if he did not figure out where he was, it would not matter if he could see out his eye properly or not. He tried to crane his head around, trying to get a vague idea where he was. It was hard because when he moved, his sore body protested the slightest movements.

From first glance, he could tell he was in the sewers (the stench was a possible dead giveaway) but the familiarity of the concrete and bricks gave it away. He noticed he was in a room that had furniture and he was lying down on a bed (a better bed than the one he had in his own place). The place was decorated in various Japanese decorations and if Donatello could guess right, he would think his father had decorated the room.

'No, quit thinking such thoughts,' he thought. He rubbed his hand over his heart in a soothing motion once again.

His mind quickly dashed off the décor when memory of his late father's teachings came to mind, " Do not let yourself be seen by the world above. "

Yet, technically he was not on the surface level of New York and clearly in the sewers, that teaching quickly came to mind. He slowly started to move the blanket off of his body as he struggled to gain some strength in his body. His body protested the entire movement and as soon as he began to stand, he felt dizzy.

Fearing he would meet the floor, he was rather surprised when a set of arms grabbed him on his tumble down to the ground.

Looking up, he was greeted by a very familiar face. 

"Master Splinter?!"

Meanwhile, in the living room, three turtles waited for their sensei and father to come from the room. After tending to Donatello's wounds (which Leo had been adamant that this was probably a cruel trick being played on them by the Foot, to which almost caused Raphael to punch the eldest turtle).

"Are you sure we should be leaving Master Splinter alone in there, Leo? I mean, with that being Donn-"

Mikey was the first to the silence that had been surrounding the three brothers. The quietness had been uncomfortable since they had placed the turtle in their father's room to rest.

"Sensei can take care of himself, Mikey," Raph interrupted, keeping a watchful eye on Leonardo who never responded after several minutes.

"True…"

Splinter had taken to simply sitting in a chair, watching as Donatello slowly looked around the room. His son's movements were slow and painful, he noted. The way he moved though, resembled his son's personality.

The rat knew the moment when Michelangelo had brought the turtle into the entrance of their home that it was his son. Yet, as hours had passed and he had thanked any deity that was listening for bringing his 'dead' son home, he realized that there were many questions forming in his mind.

How had Donatello survived the fall? Even more importantly, where had the turtle been the last five, long heartbreaking years?

He had decided to remain in the shadows as he allowed Donatello to look around the room and gain awareness, as he did not want to startle the scared turtle (which was easily spotted by the look on his son's face).

It was when Donatello had taken movements to move and started to fall forward did the rat make his presence known. He did not want to see further injury come upon his son. To hear Donatello's voice say his name almost started to shatter his broken heart once more. The turtle's voice had sounded intelligent, young, fearful, and yet so different from the one he had memories of.

"My son…you must not move yet. You must allow your wounds time to heal…"

Apparently, that response was not what the turtle was expecting.

"I'm dreaming…I'm dreaming. Those guys must have done more damage to my head than I thought. Maybe if I'll close my eyes…"

And to Splinter's surprise, Donatello did that. However, they were only closed mere milliseconds before they opened once more, as the genius turtle stared at the rat. His loving father.

The one who Donatello dreamed about secretly pleasing had lived alone all those years. The father who he dreamed about giving him tea when he had been sick. 

"No, my son, my Donatello, you are not dreaming."

Gently, Splinter placed a paw on his son's shoulders. From behind his mask, Donatello's eyes began to water and even from behind the mask; the tears were already falling down his face.

With a sudden movement, the rat quickly embraced his son who had started to cry, murmuring in comprehensible things as the rat talked and whispered to him calmly...

Chapter Text

The man sat in the dimly lit office, surrounded by hums of electronic devices. The computer screens casted various glows of colors across them. Ninety percent of biochemistry and another twenty percent genetics on one monitor alone. Various other screens showed surveillance, funding, the White House, the Pentagon, and numerous other locations worldwide under his watch.
One would call the man over paranoid. He called it survival.

Agent John Bishop had seen many things in his long life: The War of 1812, the founding of many states across the country, manifest destiny, the massacre of the indigenous tribes, the invention of the computer, the fallout of two World Wars, and so much more. 

Yet, it was aliens he disliked the most. Coming here and ruining his life. Yet, the vendetta he held against the aliens drove him to experimentation on various life forms that had led him to these turtles and of course, funding from the American tax dollar and various countries worldwide.

How had one turtle evaded his notice? The other three known turtles had been constantly noticed well…even the casual New Yorker. The turtles had a tendency to leave massive amounts of unconscious Foot soldiers, Purple Dragons, and the occasional muggers lying around. (The turtles also had a tendency to leave their DNA at these encounters quite often.) The fourth turtle had not appeared until he had been tracking both Saki’s movements and the turtles since their last encounter. A water tower and minor water damage had given it away.

Bishop glanced out of his office window and towards the young agent who had been in the surveillance. The young had been sorting through the video footage after the fourth turtle had encountered the Foot and the turtles. An overeager youth of 23 but the youth at least had the intelligence to respond respectfully.

Grimacing slightly as he stood from his chair, the agent rubbed his back and neck. This body was failing. It was more painful than the last time and he needed to have all the variables known before proceeding with any changes. Luckily the backup clones are still in supply and no funding has been cut…yet. Walking out of the office, Bishop acknowledged the young man with a nod.

“Report, Tony(*). Were you able to find any additional information rewatching the 22 second clip?”

The younger agent grimaced, “No sir. We just do not have the information and nothing I have seen-”

Tony shifted nervously when he realized Agent Bishop had been asking a rhetorical question. With a raised eyebrow, however, said boss did not actually interrupt his agent. Reaching for his papers in his hands, the younger man took it as a sign to continue.

“Sorry, I mean we have not seen any record of the fourth turtle. The only thing that has popped up is from the NYPD database that seems to match the location of the victims who were deceased at the scene to the fourth turtle.”

Bishop raised both eyebrows this time. He was not accustomed to being faced with uncertainties, especially with the turtles. Yet, this did give him an idea.

“Before you start attempting to link the fourth turtle to the Foot or the turtle. Search reports in the databases for crimes committed within a ten-block radius of that apartment complex, including any crimes that may have been committed by the Purple Dragons in the last ten years. There should be some type of claim or something filed within that time to shed some light on the situation.”

Tony’s jaw dropped, realizing the enormous task Bishop had requested.

“Sir, that will take forever! The Purple Dragons alone used to have a temporary headquarters set up five blocks northeast of that building…”

Bishop frowned and lowered his gaze on the younger man.

“Then you better get started. Something tells me there was more than Oroku Saki simply trying to get vengeance on the turtles and an elderly couple,” he voiced with enough volume to get the hint.

Tony scurried away to comply with the orders and Bishop turned back towards his office and sat back down. The three “main” turtles could be challenged once in a while to monitor. The lack of information of the fourth one just proved he still did not have all the data he needed.

Smirking, he knew Tony could focus more on the task at hand while he focused on the science side. For now, their work could continue into the next day.

It was not even within a full minute once his lost son had hugged and Splinter began soothing him did the turtle seem to faint into unconsciousness once more. Despite his son’s weight, Splinter was able to lower the turtle back onto the bed.

Pushing away the guilt, hurt, and his own emotions for the time being, Splinter went to work on assessing his son’s injuries. Nothing was life endangering. He could tell there were spiritual wounds that would need to be addressed but that was something only time and patience on everyone’s part could heal.

The rat placed his hand on the top of his son’s head and closed his eyes. The rat took a deep breath and knew he would need to meditate. He already knew his other sons would be outside the door and wanting answers. Yet, the rat was proud that they were giving Splinter and Donatello some privacy. The questions and guessing games could begin later. For now, he would at least give his sons some peace of mind about Donatello’s physical state.

Opening his brown eyes, Splinter reached for his walking stick and allowed his hand to rest on his son’s head longer. He soaked in every detail of the turtle’s face. Purple mask, bruised jaw, the scary above the right eye, and his troubled face.

A small part of him feared if he moved it, this would be another painful encounter that he did not want to relive. His heart could not handle it. He could not handle his grief being torn, not being able to see Donatello’s brown eyes one more time.

Yet, a parent’s love for their children pulled him to remove his hand and rise to his feet. He needed to talk to his sons and encourage them. There would be many questions, a lot of emotions, and even more guilt among them.

Raphael would never admit it to either of his brothers but bothered him to see Michelangelo so still. His youngest brother definitely would push the boundaries with people. Yet, Mikey had a perceptive side that he rarely showed or used. Secretly, he was glad that Mikey was using that now.

Fearless Leader was practically radiating guilt from the couch. Raphael did not even need to glance towards their television to know that. He could feel it in the air and he would bet Mikey could too.

The nagging issue was, how in the hell was Donatello still alive ?

He could describe every detail about that day in clear detail that his brain did not force him to forget from trauma. It was one he often drowned out in detail with his punching bag. Speaking of which, the turtle moved towards it. He needed to clear his head. He would only lightly tap the damned bag if it meant getting his thoughts in order. 

Raph would be respectful and keep the noise down. He did not even want to imagine the thoughts going through the other two turtles. Master Splinter would understand and Leonardo would most likely too once he launched himself out of whatever guilt trip he had trapped himself in.

Holding one sai in his hand, he lightly tapped the punching bag with the butt of the sai.

Tap!

Leo had been the one scared going up the ladder that time. The waters were rising and it had been chaos. When the rubble struck Donatello, Raphael had wanted to fall into the rushing water after his brother. His own selfish survival instincts had told him otherwise.

Tap! 

Seeing Donatello reminded him of all the shared history the moment he had laid eyes on him topside. Raphael had told himself that the connection of the brothers and their shared history would rise above the limits of life and death. Cheesy, he knew, but it had been one of the only ways to deal with the trauma he had seen.

Thwack!

Raph grunted not realizing he had whacked the punching bag too hard with the sai. He placed it back into his belt and grabbed the punching bag so the movement would not make the metal shake. The extra noise would not do anyone any good.

Seeing the blood on Donnie had made him see red outside that building.

Who were the humans that had laid dead in the snow? What did Shredder want with them?

Leonardo’s mind was surprisingly not focused on the “Who, When, Where, Why, and How” like Raphael’s was. Rather, he had kept drifting back towards that 13th birthday cake Michelangelo was so determined to honor Donatello. It seemed like everything he had thought about that day weighed in on him. He had not started to even guilt himself about the day of Donnie’s “death…”

The aroma of the cake was still tempting. Somehow Mikey had a gift for cooking that could bring up some painful memories. Leonardo could almost taste the combination espresso/vanilla/chocolate cake without evening biting into it.

Master Splinter had forced both Raphael and himself to join them at the table. While trouble would be brewing later, a forced painful and hurt voice piped up as Raphael grumbled into the chair next to him.

“Come on, guys! Donnie would’ve loved this cake! He loved my cakes and even you cannot deny liking my cooking a lot of the time.”

Leonardo could hear enthusiasm forced into Mikey’s statement halfway through it and guilt over flowed him again. Exchanging a glance with Raph, the leader saw the minor hint of guilt in Raph’s eyes. Recognition of that guilt among both brothers and in that moment, the two older brothers forced themselves to allow a connection to the brother they had lost.

Clearing his throat, “Well, it does smell good Mikey.”

Raphael nodded in rough agreement, “Yeah, alright, whatever. Let’s do this. Leo gets to do the dishes though.”

Splinter eyed Raphael for a moment, almost struggling between warning Raphael from going too far again. Yet, even Leo could see Splinter refrained and so did Leo. Their father was in pain and Raphael had not intended it as a way to insult Leonardo or Michelangelo.

Mikey’s excitement was almost instantaneous and even contagious as soon as Leonardo cut into the cake and passed the pieces to each family member.

The cake was extremely rich and Leonardo felt his guilt start to slowly settle down as the turtles began to remember the small details they missed about their brother. Joy, pain, grief, fondness, and sadness was plastered in a unique way on everyone’s face.

Now, Leonardo looked back on that day, recalling that the walls that had built seemed to shake, even if it was for that one day. The unity he felt with his family seemed to be one of acceptance yet knowing it was never truly okay that Donatello was gone.

“I suggest we share something about Donatello that we cherish, my sons. You may write it down or tell it.”

Splinter still had that forced happiness in his voice but it was lesser than it had been before they began eating the cake.

Bittersweet emotions, minor tales of laughter, and tears were shared.

Leonardo could still recall how triumphant Michelangelo had looked. The youngest turtle getting to acknowledge Donatello being lost to them was a way of coping for Mikey. That celebration had been marked with pain and healing but it allowed Leonardo to come to terms with the guilt he felt every day that ate him at night.

Now, here he had been going on with life and Donatello had been alive…

Michelangelo could tell the air in the lair felt heavier than usual. Being the optimist of his brothers, could not escape the shadow that had been casted over the joy of seeing Donnie again.

Dread had settled into his stomach as Mikey sat on the floor, staring at the entrance to Splinter’s room. He could hear Raphael’s punching bag making noises. The weight of his hits to the punching bag lacked their usual camaraderie.

Mikey would deal with any “what-ifs” once he had word from Master Splinter that Donnie was going to live and actually be here this time.

Fortunately, he did not have to wait longer than the few hours he already had.

The rat stepped out of his door and at once all three turtles rushed their father.

This talk was going to be hard…

Chapter Text

She was a particular woman and Akira was a particular man. Dinner at the Akira household simply involved random samplings: simple plates from gyoza, fried shrimp, old fashioned Japanese style dishes, to simple buttery popcorn. Sorano had a talent for cooking and she had taken pride in teaching Donatello.

One particular evening, the elderly woman had invited him over. It had been several weeks since the turtle had come by and she had grown concerned. Turtle or human, not connecting with any living being was unhealthy.

Sorano never pried into the young turtle’s past. It was a line she never crossed. Akira would often ponder when the turtle was away how truly such a being came into existence. Sorano would then chastise her husband for pondering and not respecting Donatello’s unspoken wish to not pry into his past or ask questions.

Yet, it did not stop the maternal instincts to get the turtle out of the sewers and socialize with something that was not a computer chip or a toaster. So, she had decided to request his help repairing their water heater. Even if Donatello suspected the woman had simply lowered the temperature herself on the water heater just to get the genius turtle out of his home, he welcomed the change. Some days were just too lonely living by himself. Depression could easily sneak in if he did not keep busy. Plus, she did get lonely at times if she was not at the shop with her husband.

Plus, even Donatello could not turn down a plate of gyoza from Sorano. It would be one of the simple yet last memories he would get to make with her that summer…

Unwillingly, tears escaped the unconscious turtle’s eyes. If Splinter had been in the room with his son, he may have tried to awaken the turtle. The trauma and sudden shock to this system that his life had taken a 360 was now popping up in his dreams.

Eying each of his sons, Splinter was a bit relieved they did not rush him with questions about Donatello. Perhaps they all secretly feared if they said something bad was going to happen, the lost turtle would suddenly vanish again.

Motioning towards his sons towards the dojo, the three turtles followed him in. Part of him did not want to leave so far from his room that he could not be near Donatello but the rat had a feeling his son would be unconscious again for several more hours.

Master Splinter walked towards the mats, “Sit.”

The rat remained standing for a minute before deciding to take a seat. His three sons exchanged a look. It was uncommon for their sensei to be seated within the dojo outside of mediation. Sadly, the rat felt his age and the entire last few hours catching up to him. For once, he would listen to his body.  Taking a deep breath to collect his thoughts, he motioned towards the direction of his room.

“My sons. I know there have been many questions raised and many I do not have an answer to. Donatello is alive and he will recover…”

Splinter trailed off for a moment, pausing as he held each of his sons gazes. Michelangelo already looked relieved before he had finished staying alive. Raphael only nodded but the unspoken communication showed a sign of relief for the hot tempered turtle. Leonardo had also nodded but his face still held guilt.  The rat would need to address that issue in the morning.

“-but whatever fate has brought us all back together. Donatello has endured much more than just physical wounds. He has emotional and spiritual scars that we cannot begin to understand. Whatever happened on the surface tonight, it has opened new challenges and more mysteries to all of us.”

Identical nods came from the turtles.

“Whatever challenges I anticipated for us to face, I was not expecting us to also have our own wounds heal. We must be patient and supportive for Donatello while also managing our emotions, scars, and actions.”

A pointed look at Raphael sent a subtle message before shifting his gaze back towards his sons altogether. Softening his gaze, he continued.

“Donatello appears to have encountered a powerful adversary he was not expecting. I will try and ask for the details after morning meditation if your brother is ready, but for this evening, I did want you to be aware there will be no trips to the surface unless absolutely necessary. The next few days will be spent in mediation and being there for each other as well as for Donatello…”

Master Splinter did not really want to put a ban on going to the surface right away. However, until they had some more information, the rat did not even want his sons leaving the lair. Plus, the turtles would need to face some uncomfortable issues. He would allow them their space but for the next couple of days, they would be needed here at home. They all had scars they needed to deal with. 

Taking a deep breath, “I will watch over Donatello for the remainder of this evening. I must ask, my sons, that you attempt to get some rest and meditate.”

“Sensei, what if you need something?” Leonardo jumped to his feet first, ready to offer help first as always.

Splinter smiled slightly, “My son, I feel that we will all get some rest tonight and I believe Donatello will not be waking up anytime soon. Use these next few hours to allow our hearts and minds to rest, even for a brief time.”

Michelangelo nodded but Leonardo stopped, almost wanting to protest. Raphael had already risen to his feet and placed a hand on Leonardo’s shoulder.

“Master Splinter’s right. If we don’t try to clear our heads some, we’ll go nuts thinking this over, bro. I stay up talking about this, I’ll want to go back out and bang some heads right now…” 

To the casual observer it would appear Raphael had given in but no, it was rather Raphael admitting in his own way they needed to attempt to get some rest. The sooner they all got rest, the sooner Raphael could get some revenge.

Unfortunately, it would not come easy for any of them…

Michelangelo was restless. He could not sleep. Normally, he could fall asleep anywhere outside of Raphael snoring loudly. He almost wished his protective brother had been snoring so he had a valid reason in the morning to be so tired.

‘How had Donnie survived…How had Donnie survived…?’ Those were some of the many words that kept crossing into his mind.

What time would be appropriate for him to poke around and see if he could sit with Master Splinter? Would Donnie be too overwhelmed from everything that seeing even one of his brothers would cause him to pass out again?

He had already run over a thousand conversations in his head before he had met with Donatello one more time. He hated sitting and right now, he really needed to release some energy. He would give himself a couple more hours before breakfast. Training would most likely be off but perhaps even some small katas would help everyone.

‘I can’t take this,’ he thought to himself.

Quietly opening the door from his room, he went into the kitchen. He could at least prepare something quietly. Plus, cooking was soothing. He always thought in another lifetime or something, he would always love pizza and even own a pizza business.

Walking from his room, Mikey glanced quickly towards Raph’s and Leo’s doors. So far, no one seemed up. Even if his brothers heard him up, it was unlikely they would want to be out unless something had happened with Donatello.

‘Don may leave if we don’t help him,’ a disheartening thought jumped into his head before he could even stop it.

A simple breakfast could do. Perhaps he could lure everyone out with oatmeal. It would not take very long to make. The instant oats would be too easy and he did not want to heat water in the microwave or oven just yet.. First though, he would rather have a glass of milk. Something on his stomach to get the day started.

Opening the refrigerator, Michelangelo reached for the milk and placed it on the counter. Seconds later, he reached for a clear glass cup in the kitchen cabinets. ‘Does Donnie still like strawberry pancakes? Or coffee even still…?’ More random thoughts running wild.

Frustrated, the orange clad turtle shook his head and poured the milk into the glass. Ugh, he really wished his mind would get his stomach to settle down some. Placing the milk carton back in the refrigerator, he leaned against the kitchen counter top to help keep some of the weight off his feet.

‘Who the shell were those people getting attacked by the Foot?’

Turning to his left, Mikey also grabbed a banana. Yeah, he was really beginning to question everything this morning. Peeling back the banana and moving towards the kitchen table with his cup of milk as well.

A few bites and a few sips of the liquid distracted his brain enough to settle down on the most random thoughts.

Still, one thought was front and center.

‘How lonely was Donnie this entire time?’

Sighing, Mikey placed the half-eaten banana down on the table. Moving his hands towards his head, he had no chance to stop the flood of tears that began to flow down from his eyes. They soaked his mask but he did not care.

Never in his life did he truly realize how much he had missed his brother until now. He had always felt selfish wishing Donatello was back with them. Refusing to let his memory ‘die’ because he had always wanted his brother back. Now, he felt worse because he truly did not know to feel now that his brother truly was back.

Leonardo turned his head for a slight minute. Michelangelo was already up. Or, most likely had never gone to sleep to begin with. His youngest brother probably had a million thoughts plaguing just as much as himself. For now, he needed to meditate as best as he could. Focusing on the one candle he had lit. He dared not to light anymore in case his father was still awake. Last thing he needed was to get yelled at by Raphael or Master Splinter.

He finally had been able to meditate on what to say to Michelangelo about that birthday party. Now, he just needed to focus on the one thing that had started giving him ulcers years ago…

Conquering his fear of heights had been a massive guilt trip hidden. Or at least, he hoped that was what he could trick himself into believing.

Master Splinter had spent a few years working with Leonardo on his fear of heights. They had trained countless times in their old lair using bamboo sticks, step ladders, nets, and ropes to help him train to get past that fear. His sensei had even gone as far as dangling himself over a deep pit in the sewers to trick the blue clad turtle into fooling trying to overcome this fear.

For the most part, Leonardo had done pretty well in conquering the fear. Splinter had yet to really put Leonardo under the strain of pressure when dealing with heights as bad as that deep sewer pit.

Heights killed people. He had been able to push aside and brush that irrational fear of heights during the time training with Splinter and even with his brothers.

Yet, when sewer tunnels had started to shake, debris was falling, and water was rising, he had frozen on the ladder. The huge debris that had hit his younger brother should have been him. He had frozen on the ladder to the higher levels simply because that fear had not yet been conquered.  For some reason, the fear had risen up and grabbed him that moment, keeping him stuck.

Him being slow resulted in the death of his brother. No one ever had blamed him for his fears striking him at that moment. Master Splinter had basically told him the accident that “took” Donatello’s life was no one’s fault and it was just that, a freak accident. His fear of heights suddenly manifesting itself was perhaps just a one off thing.

Leonardo had always wondered if his father blamed Leonardo indirectly on the “moving slow up the ladder” issue Raphael had once thrown into an argument. That one off comment had been a line that neither brother ever crossed with each other again. The fight had been the worst between the brothers.

Not recounting all of the details, the six month punishment both Raphael and Leonardo had received really put things into perspective for Leonardo. It was during this time that Leonardo worked with himself on conquering his irrational fear of heights. He would spend countless hours on the surface training at night. He exhausted himself during the usual training sessions with Raphael and Michelangelo. He had asked for extra sessions with Master Splinter.
Hard work had paid off in the end. He had been able to get over that fear.

The motivation to conquer his fear of weights had a great distraction for not dealing with Donatello’s death as he should have. He still felt guilty knowing his brother had been killed for one of his fears. No matter how many times he reimagined the scenario in his head, Donatello had still been killed by his paralyzing fears.

As he had grown older, Leonardo came to a small peace that Donatello would not have blamed him for anything that day. They were still children. However, Donatello actually being alive had flung all that guilt he had been working through back into his face.

He had always wished he could see Donatello one more time and just apologize for that day, even if Leonardo had nothing to do with him “dying.” The blue clad turtle now had his wish. He had many questions. Oh so many questions and Leonardo would be getting his answers from the Foot clan soon.

Leonardo was just unprepared for the rush of emotions that had returned upon seeing Donnie again. The mediation to just help him focus on beginning to deal with those emotions.

Unlike Michelangelo or Leonardo, Raphael fell asleep unwillingly for a few hours. At first, he had been very very tempted to go out and bang some heads for some answers. Them coming across Donatello being attacked by Foot Ninja and the Shredder was not a coincidence. Sure, stumbling upon Donatello was most likely not planned by the Foot or they would have found their dead brother…well dead.

No, those screams he heard coming from the humans were terrified screams. Screams who knew death was in front of them and there was nothing they could do about it. The woman’s face alone had been permanently glued in his mind. She died with her eyes open and terrified. It was surreal how someone could die with their eyes open and their face still showing fear.

Such gruesome images should have kept Raphael up and unable to sleep. If it had been any other thing, what he had seen would have flooded his sleep and given him nightmares.

The relief of knowing Donatello was alive and was home had overpowered his hatred of the Foot. While his emotions had overwhelmed him, the pure joy of seeing his brother home .

Oh Raphael would be demanding answers and that would be happening very soon. He had fallen asleep thinking of a million questions. Yet, he kept going back to Donnie being alive and home with his family. They were whole again. Four brothers. That feeling released a stress of his shoulders he never realized he had. His muscles, tense from who knows what, seemed to vanish off his shoulders.

Chapter Text

X-x

Balance was a skill all ninjas were supposed to master. Or, at least being able to walk without falling. Some people were naturally clumsy (or at least a certain pretended to be for laughs before the sewer collapse) and other times, freak accidents caused a lot of issues. Freak accidents could easily result in someone having minor scrapes from falling to someone having a life threatening injury where their spinal cord is bruised, unable to walk again. Freak accidents could cause someone to lose the motivation to live. That was why balance and being careful was super important. 

These logical reasons were why Donatello focused so hard on training his balance. Ever since the head injury, his balance had been off. Sometimes he could be walking and experiencing himself tripping over nothing. There would be nothing on the floor for him to trip over.

Master Splinter had spent countless hours working with his sons to maintain that balance as they grew older. The 12-year-old was often frustrated because he really could not really 100% know why his balance was still off now. Months of self-taught occupational and physical therapy should have helped.

The headaches were often common and tiresome. Donatello had assumed his head trauma would have healed. How bad of brain trauma did he experience when he went into the water? It was not like he did not wake up further along in the sewers with water in his lungs. He had actually woken up on the surface of the water and had been coughing a lot. His body’s natural way to expunge water that had filled his lungs. Logically, he knew he was not in the water unconscious long enough that he did not drown. He should have drowned. So, perhaps the head injury was not as severe as he had thought.

He had theories. Perhaps his mind had subconsciously blocked out a lot of the trauma and he had swam to safety. Or his body had floated to an area of the sewers where the high water levels had placed him and he happened to ‘float’ there and be safe. It could be a combination of many theories.

The frustration from his many theories was just how off balance he still got. He knew from reading and studying head injuries were different from person to person. There were so many different factors and possibilities he could throw out there but he may truly not know why he was still having balance issues this many years later.

X-x

The nightmares often begin with happiness and end with him waking up  in terror. Flashes of family, close friends, pizza, laughter, training, and general camaraderie that first showed. It was like various snapshots of his father giving him his first training bo (even if he had been too small to wield it properly) to Akira going through a simple game of Scrabble against him. The memories were not always “happy” or “joyful” but it was just normal everyday life he dreamed about. Even dreaming about his normal life was just a small glimpse into his happiness.

Halfway through, the good and normal memories would be shoved out of the way for the nightmares to begin. He did not always suffer from nightmares but the deaths of Splinter, Leo, Raph, and Mikey had left him well..always snapping back to the fateful day his family had been taken from him. It was often a never-ending loop in his mind, each detail vividly etched into his mind.

Donatello would wake up with his heart pounding, shortness of breath, crying, and even to him talking in his sleep. He could have been crying out for his father or his brothers. A phantom pain would often taunt him near his scar. He rarely was able to get back to sleep and would often subconsciously rub the scar with his hand.

Often, the turtle wondered if he had received some form of brain damage from the accident that triggered the nightmares. Most of the time, he would use that as an excuse to justify why he had trauma from the accident.

Now, with consciousness lurking, his subconscious was replaying Akira and Sorano’s deaths before him. Then, a momentary flash of happiness with his mind playing tricks on him seeing his brothers. The pain of losing his family was not enough, the nightmare added a cruel twist to it. Seeing that metal geared man striking the fatal blows with his armor and a sense of finality hung in the air.

His anguished cries went unheard this time as the turtle felt his eyes jerk awake. He could feel the tear tracks down his face but he was struggling to get his bearings down.

The very first thing Donatello was aware of was physical pain in his jaw. His body was sore and he ached everywhere. The soreness felt like the time he had tried doing some weird yoga dance fitness routine he had seen on the Internet that Sorano had begged to see him attempt. Only, this soreness was much and he did not even have to look to know there was bruising accompanying it. The familiar phantom pain near his scar was there but he honestly could not tell if a complete “absent” pain or if he really was experiencing a headache as well.

He laid on the ground on a flat yet comfortable surface. The room was decorated in various Japanese and Southeast Asian decor and furniture. The decor and furniture was obviously second hand but cleaned and refurbished with care. Various mismatched candles set in one corner of the room with a cushion, most likely used for mediation.

Confusion soared for a moment as his mind struggled to catch up with everything that had happened. Akira and Sorano. Hugging his father. His father!
 

Pushing past his pain, Donatello recalled passing out hugging Master Splinter. That definitely had not been a dream and it was not just a nightmare that his friends were dead. Shakily, the purple clad turtle set up from his waist in the bed. He could deal with his emotions later. He needed to find his father.

“Master Splinter?” He called out. From the looks of it, there was no response. His voice though was slightly hoarse and even a bit dry. It appeared as if he had been unconscious longer than he realized. No one responded.

Forcing himself to ignore thousands of questions and the rushing tidal of emotions, Donatello struggled to stand. His body was aching everywhere. Nothing really felt broken physically as far as he could tell. Only time could really help with the soreness and if he was lucky, a hot bath.

He also vaguely could smell something similar to buttered toast and…oatmeal? (Oatmeal, he vaguely remembered, only had a strong smell when Leonardo had tried to make some when they were younger. He had somehow burned the oatmeal to the pan…)

Shifting towards the paper door, Donatello hesitated for a moment. He really wished he had his bo staff with him. However, logically, he knew he would not be much use trying to wield the thing properly right now anyways. He was too sore.

Opening the door, he quietly glanced around at the area. He was definitely in the sewers. What took him by surprise, however, was the openness of the area. It was almost an entire circle with various doorways, furniture, and an area set that appeared to be a kitchen. A blue couch rested near a very large, very dated television. A brown punching bag set near various mismatched exercise equipment.

It definitely had refurbished furniture and second hand cast offs that no one wanted. Studying the layout, Donatello felt his stomach calling more. He was starving and had not eaten in over 24 hours. Food was definitely calling his name and he would definitely love some coffee.

How odd that food and coffee seemed to always override his emotions. Following the smell, Donatello walked towards the kitchen. Noticing a refurbished brown kitchen table, he walked towards it. A paper caught his eye and he picked it up.

‘Donatello,

Michelangelo left some warm oatmeal and buttered toast in the microwave for you my son. Please sit and make yourself comfortable. Your brothers and I are currently in the dojo doing some mediation. Feel free to make yourself at home, my son.

-Splinter’

It was definitely his father’s handwriting. When they were younger, Master Splinter had often struggled to teach the turtles how to write when he had been learning as well. The rat’s handwriting was always legible but was always distinct because he never quite got handwriting down compared to his sons. Since the accident, Donatello had too much time on his hands and at times would theorize that with the turtles being younger and their brains still forming, they were able to catch on to basic human tasks quicker.

It appeared that theory still held some weight. Shaking his head, he placed the paper gently back on the table and eyed the microwave and table. He felt like a stranger invading someone home. Or rather, that awkward feeling where you are the guest and the host tells you to help yourself to their kitchen and food.

Donatello pushed the feelings aside and went towards the microwave and food. He needed to eat. He could deal with the emotions later. Food would at least allow him to think a bit more logically about meeting up with his father and brothers again when they finished.

“I can’t believe they’re alive…” he murmured to himself.

Talking to himself was just a subconscious habit. It helped fill in the loneliness and depression that overtook him all the time.  Sitting at the table, the purple clad turtle began eating. For simple toast and oatmeal, it was lukewarm.

The food did little to settle his emotions as he had hoped. Everything was going on overload for him.

Akira and Sorano were dead. He had lost more of his family. Yet, he regained more. He had seen his brothers and father again the previous evening, within all of the chaos, hurt, and pain. He felt like he should be feeling grateful or some other emotion that his family was here. Yet, he had lost his second family.

Unable to keep the pain back, Donatello’s eyes filled with tears. His friends were gone…

X-x

The morning had passed quickly and Donatello was still asleep. His older body aching, Master Splinter had seen no sign that his son was going to wake anytime soon. He needed to talk with his other sons. Gathering them into the dojo was all too easy.

Usually he had to struggle to get Raphael and Michelangelo into the dojo on a good day. Yet, all three had managed to even beat him in. It was not unusual for Leonardo to be in the dojo before him at times. However, the other two turtles being there so early said something. All three turtles were sitting on the floor, in their respectful positions.

The rat slowly lowered himself to the floor and closed his eyes, taking a second to gather his thoughts. He almost wanted to mediate with his sons but with the events of the previous night just hours before being fresh in their minds, perhaps it was better to get the information right away. They could all meditate after. It would definitely help him, at least. 

“My sons, before we begin our morning meditation, I want to know exactly what transpired last night. Leave no detail out…”

Splinter’s first statement of the day left room for question…