Control, Alt, Delete

by LuckyLadybug

1987 series, my Exit the Fly verse. Krang decides he must make one more attempt to get the supercomputer he wanted in the past. Naturally, nothing goes as planned.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 1987

Control, Alt, Delete

By Lucky_Ladybug

Notes: The characters are not mine and the story is! ThickerThanLove gave the title and helped with plot ideas, especially the second flashback scene and also how to fix the problem that Vincent apparently has a canon name that is never used in the episodes. This is part of my Exit the Fly verse. Baxter is human again and an ally of the Turtles. His brother Barney no longer works for Shredder.

Baxter sat at the island in Barney's kitchen, slowly sipping a mug of hot chocolate as he stared out at the oncoming morning.

It had been a long night. Barney had clearly been exhausted; when Baxter had come downstairs, he had found him still on the couch, using Vincent's energy-generated body for a pillow. Vincent had fallen asleep at some point as well, slumped back against the couch.

Baxter smiled to himself. He needed to get back to his apartment, but he had enjoyed staying over at Barney's house-especially since it had never happened before and now he was wanted.

He hoped Barney would have some luck finding work. After the publicity surrounding the lightning gun incident, he doubted that Barney would have much trouble. The majority of the city loved him and was willing to give him a chance, as they had Baxter.

He was amazed at the amount of support he had received from Channel 6 viewers when he was being stalked. It was a relief to know that so many people had forgiven him even knowing of the past calamities he had caused. Barney receiving the same support thrilled him.

He looked up as Barney stumbled into the kitchen, his hair an untamed mess. "Another sugar craving?" he asked.

"Not like yesterday," Baxter said. "I just felt like having this."

Barney poured some for himself and sat on the opposite side of the island. He stared into the mug before finally taking a sip. Something was on his mind.

Baxter wasn't sure whether to prompt him or just wait and see if he would talk. "Is Vincent still asleep?" he asked at last.

"Yes." If Barney was embarrassed about having slept hard on the couch all night, he wasn't about to bring it up. He stirred the hot chocolate and sipped it again before finally getting around to what he was thinking. "Baxter, I . . . I was thinking about when you came to me . . . for help. . . ."

Pain flickered in Baxter's eyes. "You mean when I was fused with the fly," he said quietly.

Barney nodded, shifted, and cleared his throat. "You . . . deserve to know why I reacted the way I did."

"I thought you found me such a pathetic joke that you just couldn't stop yourself from laughing when you thought I'd done it to myself," Baxter said.

Barney looked sick. "That wasn't the reason, although I know it's the most logical assumption. I . . ." He dug a hand into his unbrushed hair. "I couldn't deal with it. Seeing you like that, I mean. I was horrified. At first I showed some of that horror. I couldn't help it; it slipped through. But then I felt too vulnerable showing my true feelings. I thought of those ridiculous 1950s horror films and how your problem seemed like it would fit right in with them. And I laughed."

Baxter stared at him. "You . . . you were actually so bothered as all that?" He sounded as stunned as he looked.

Barney's hand dropped to the counter. "I laughed, Baxter. I know it cut you. And I never explained myself or apologized or . . ."

"I think it cut me more deeply than almost anything else you did," Baxter said softly. "But to think that you were so horrified it was the only way you could cope . . ." He looked firmly into Barney's eyes. "You can't imagine what it means to me to know that it affected you to that extent after thinking you didn't care."

Barney held the gaze for a moment and then had to look away. "Vincent told me that my problem wasn't loving too little; I loved too much and I didn't know how to handle it." He sighed. "I think he was right. At least partially. That wasn't my only problem." He looked back at Baxter. "And while I'd desperately like to tell you that everything I did that hurt you was borne of a misunderstanding, it's unfortunately not true. Many things I said or did simply because I was bitter and angry and I was taking it out on you."

"I know," Baxter answered. "And that will always hurt. But to have some of the pain lessened with a misunderstanding revealed is an immense weight lifted from me." He looked sincerely at his twin. "Thank you so much for finally telling me."

Barney just nodded. He didn't know what to say; you're welcome seemed ridiculous under the circumstances.

"You know," Baxter said after a moment, "I was bitter after I was first turned human again. So very bitter. I was angry and confused and I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. I felt pressured to join the fight against Shredder. . . . After I got into an argument with Raphael, I even thought the Turtles had only helped me because they wanted my help. I was tired of being used by everyone. I felt that you were right and no one helps anyone for the sake of helping them. I finally found I was wrong. But I haven't always been optimistic and hopeful."

"And after what you went through, no one would expect you to be," Barney grunted. "Maybe you were even more bitter than I ever was, since it hurts worse to believe and be let down." He paused. "But that must have been around the time we met again and I saw you were finally human."

"Yes," Baxter nodded.

"And I was glad of it, even though I was too filled with bitterness and rage to let you see it," Barney said.

"You saved my life," Baxter reminded him. "I was hurt that you didn't show you were happy I was alright, but I tried to focus on how you stopped Shredder from murdering me then and there."

"Saving someone's life is easy," Barney said. "Opening up to them is hard."

Baxter half-smiled. "I also tried not to think that the reason you gave me for saving my life was the truth, although I remember at the time I believed it."

Barney frowned. "What did I say?"

"You said you did it so I would be alive to see you best me," Baxter told me.

Barney slapped his forehead. "I didn't mean it. I don't even remember saying that."

"I know now you didn't mean it," Baxter assured him. "It was another of your defenses, similar to what Vernon Fenwick did."

"While I'm not sure I like being compared to him, you're right," Barney grudgingly acknowledged. "I just couldn't admit I did anything for a decent reason. I still have a lot of that pride, but hopefully not as much."

"You're definitely changing," Baxter said. "And for the better."

They drank in silence for several minutes before Vincent wandered into the kitchen. "Good morning," he greeted.

"Good morning, Vincent," Baxter smiled.

"How are you feeling?" Barney asked.

"I'm fine." Vincent sat down next to Baxter. "For the most part, anyway. . . ."

"What's wrong?" Barney frowned.

Vincent sighed and looked down before facing Baxter. "That argument I had with the Turtles yesterday made me start thinking about something that never really occurred to me before. Baxter, if I'd never encouraged you on your revenge plots, maybe the Turtles would have helped you sooner. Maybe, despite what you think, I was more of a hindrance than a help to you."

"I don't believe that!" Baxter insisted. "The Turtles weren't helping me anyway. They didn't understand. I certainly wish I hadn't done those horrible things we did, but I don't think not doing them would have resulted in my being turned human any sooner."

"So it seems we're all commiserating today," Barney grunted.

Baxter sighed. "Well, we can't go through something like what we went through yesterday and not come out of it with plenty of dark thoughts."

"I suppose that's true," Vincent said. "I haven't even been sure I'm sorry for what I encouraged you to do. I realized recently I shouldn't have done it, but at the same time I didn't feel sorry except for how it affected you. I didn't want to apologize to the Turtles if I didn't feel sincere. But I . . . I'm sorry now. I'd like to tell them."

That brought a smile. "I'm glad, Vincent," Baxter said. "I'm sure it will help them feel better about you."

"Well, I don't know about that," Vincent said. "And that isn't why I want to tell them."

"I know," Baxter said. "But I hope it will have that effect anyway."

". . . I haven't apologized either," Barney realized. "The closest I've come is acknowledging how treacherous it was and how I know there's no forgiveness for it. But there's no good way to say 'I'm sorry I made your lives Hell. I'm sorry I attacked you with my brother's robot spider. I'm sorry I turned one of you to gold.'" He scowled. "It sounds so trite, so preposterous."

"I didn't know how to apologize either," Baxter said. "I think when I did, I said how sorry I was for everything. I didn't take each event individually, because you're right-that can end up sounding ridiculous." He cringed. "And make one feel as though there's no hope for redemption. There is, though," he quickly added.

For a moment there was silence. It was Vincent who broke it again. "There is one other thing," he mused.

"What's that?" Barney sounded wary.

"I have every intention of staying in this form the majority of the time," Vincent said. "And I want to wear clothes."

Barney gave him a deadpan look and slowly raised an eyebrow. "Clothes."

"Well, why not? Everyone wears them, even mutants," Vincent shrugged. "The only ones who don't are the Turtles, and that's probably because of their shells."

"And even at that, they do wear clothes half the time," Baxter chuckled. "Although I think they're going in disguise much less now that they're better accepted than they used to be."

Barney still seemed weirded out by the concept. "You don't . . . need to wear clothes," he said to Vincent. "You didn't design your body that way."

"I just think it would be fun," Vincent said. "And interesting."

"I think if you want to, it's a fine idea," Baxter said. "Is there anything you're thinking of trying?"

"I was thinking of something like this." Vincent brought up pictures of loud Hawaiian shirts on the laptop screen.

Barney facepalmed. "I'm going to go around town with a computer dressed like Magnum P.I."

Baxter burst out laughing. "I say you should do it," he said to Vincent.

"I think I will," Vincent said.

Barney shook his head. This felt so very strange. But even as bowled over as he was, he had to admit to one thing.

It was nice to hear Baxter laugh.

xxxx

The Turtles slept in after the long escapades of the past night. Splinter allowed it under the circumstances. But he still put them through their morning practice when they awakened, before settling down to a late breakfast.

"What are your plans for today, my students?" he asked.

"We should make sure all the modern technology is back to normal," Donatello said.

"And we wanna check in with Baxter," Michelangelo said. "Vincent seemed okay when we left last night. He even called up to say he was sorry for what he did! But we should make sure everything's still gnarly."

"You know, he's never apologized for the messes he got Baxter into," Raphael grunted. "Baxter was so far gone near the end that Vincent was the one doing all the thinking."

"But he was still doing what he thought Baxter wanted to do," Michelangelo said. "I know he's alive and all, but since he is a computer, he probably figured that he had to do what the human wanted. It probably didn't even enter his mind that maybe he shouldn't. It was meeting Barney that changed him."

"Always the optimist, aren't you?" Raphael sighed. "Still, I'd like to know if it's ever occurred to him that some of Baxter's problems might have been his fault."

"I think we're all to blame," Leonardo said quietly. "Vincent was right that we blindly accepted Shredder's lies. They seemed to fit the facts. But we should have checked out Baxter's story when he kept insisting he was innocent and he'd had no idea what Shredder really wanted the Mousers for. To believe what our arch-enemy had set up to deliberately frame an innocent man was an act not worthy of our ninja training. I know everyone will make mistakes when they first start out, especially when we were so new to the human world and interacting with other people, but that mistake still haunts me to this day."

Donatello nodded. "And after Shredder broke Baxter out of the asylum and we ran into him multiple times working for Shredder, it only seemed to confirm what we'd thought all along-that he was bad news."

"And that he was totally nuts," Raphael remarked. "I can still hear him giggling like a hyena about 'big, green, talking Turtles.'"

"He was nuts then," Michelangelo said. "He was probably thinking how we'd helped wreck his life, especially when nobody believed him about us being real, and then there we were again, big as life." He shuddered. "Imagine, being thrown in the loony bin when you weren't nuts and then cracking up from being in there! Maximum bummer, man."

"And Barney just let it happen," Raphael said darkly. "I'll never understand that."

"He claimed he really thought Baxter was nuts," Michelangelo said. "I want to believe that."

"Of course you do," Raphael objected. "You'd never want to believe that he knew Baxter wasn't nuts and condemned him to that fate to get him out of the way."

"Do you truly believe that, Raphael?" Splinter finally spoke.

"Oh, I don't know, Sensei," Raphael sighed. "I guess maybe part of me actually does, so that I can feel even more justified in not liking the guy, you know? But he already gave me all the justification I needed when he used the Golden Goose on Michelangelo. Who cares if he didn't want to do it or that he regretted it the instant he did it? He did it. Same with all the other garbage he pulled. And he's admitted himself that the fact he did it is the only thing that matters."

Splinter nodded. "He did many deplorable things, but none angered me more than what happened with Michelangelo. Still, when was the last time you said or did something you knew you shouldn't have and instantly regretted it?"

Raphael flushed at being put on the spot. "Why is this about me all of a sudden? Okay, I know I'm crude, but an offhand sarcastic crack is nothing compared to what Barney's done."

"That is true," Splinter acknowledged. "But 'offhand sarcastic cracks' can sometimes dig very deep. What if something you said crushed one of the other Turtles and you felt horrible about it, but they would not forgive you even when you tried to change?"

Raphael looked down. "I don't know. . . . I guess I'd feel like I'd done something unforgivable and I deserved it."

"You and Barney are quite similar in that viewpoint," Splinter said. "Barney will not ask for forgiveness because he feels he does not deserve it. Michelangelo gave it freely regardless. And Barney has come a long way from that dark time. He is changing, Raphael."

"I know that." Raphael still didn't look up. "He even tried to protect Michelangelo yesterday. That . . . did mean something to me. Okay, it meant a lot to me." He sighed. "But it only makes me struggle even more, because now I've got a lot of reasons to try to like him . . . and maybe part of me does . . . and yet I can't let go of the past. Maybe I feel like it would be wrong to forget the junk he pulled."

"Forgiving does not mean forgetting," Splinter said.

"But it means not being mad at him for it anymore," Raphael said. "I don't know if I can not be mad. I don't know if I want to not be mad."

"That must be your decision, my pupil," Splinter said. "Only you can choose to not be angry with Barney. But I promise you that you will be far happier if you choose to forgive him."

"Yeah, and like, he wants to help out with fighting against Shredder and Krang long-term," Michelangelo said. "How are we all gonna do that if there's still bad blood between us?"

"I don't know if I want his help long-term," Raphael retorted. "I don't know that I trust him long-term or even short-term!" He got up from the table and turned away, then looked back. "But I know I should. He helped us out of several sticky situations. Heck, he almost gave his life to stop that stupid lightning gun. And now he protected Michelangelo. . . ." He shook his head. "I don't know. I need some time to think."

"Take all the time you need," Splinter said. "Life-altering decisions should not be made lightly."

"But like, it's a no-brainer," Michelangelo said. "Barney's been helping us for weeks. He's a good guy!"

"Yeah, yeah, a good guy," Raphael muttered as he walked out of the room.

Leonardo sighed. "I can't blame him for his anger, or his confusion, but I wish he could make up his mind. This has been going on for months now and Barney is clearly here to stay. It only makes things stickier when he's Baxter's brother."

"That's part of the problem," Donatello said. "We care about Baxter and feel protective of him. And knowing how Barney hurt Baxter makes Raphael feel even more like he can't let go of the past."

"It is difficult to rid oneself of deeply held feelings of anger and hatred," Splinter said. "Particularly when they seem to be quite justified. Raphael knows what action he should take. By now, part of him even wants to take it. But he must still battle with those lingering feelings that tell him otherwise."

"He was really upset when we thought Barney was dead," Donatello said. "I wonder if it might help if they could just talk, one-on-one."

"It might," Splinter agreed. "When he comes back, we can suggest it to him."

"Two aloof, short-tempered dudes trying to talk out their feelings when they both hate one of the dudes?" Michelangelo frowned. "I don't know, Master Splinter. It kind of sounds like a disaster waiting to happen."

"Perhaps," Splinter said calmly. "Or it might be just the thing. Someone could be close by in case they were needed, but I would hope such a meeting would not actually come to blows."

"Me too," Michelangelo said. "There's been enough hurt already."

His Turtle-Comm went off and he answered. "Hey, Baxter! What's up?"

"Well, it's been an . . . interesting morning," Baxter said.

"Everything's okay, isn't it?" Michelangelo asked in concern.

"Yes, mostly." Baxter paused. "Vincent would like to talk with you and the other Turtles again, but in person this time. Could you meet us in around an hour?" He gave an address.

"Sure thing, Compadre!" Michelangelo promised.

Donatello looked confused as Michelangelo hung up. "I think that's where a clothing store is," he said. "I wonder what they're doing there."

"Oh well, this'll give us chances to talk to all of them," Michelangelo chirped. "Barney'll be there too." He looked to Splinter. "Do you wanna come too, Sensei?"

Splinter pondered. "I do not know that I am needed, but Baxter sounded serious. Perhaps it would be wise for me to come as well."

Michelangelo nodded. "If we're all gonna be allies and buds, you should be there too, Master Splinter."

"Then I shall," Splinter said.

"Bodacious!" said Michelangelo.

xxxx

"There!" Krang pushed the last bit of debris out of the way and flipped a switch. A New York street appeared on the screen. "It took all night, but we've finally reestablished communication with the city." Static marched across the screen. ". . . More or less."

"Of course by now, all the computers in town are back to normal thanks to the Turtles!" Shredder cried in frustration.

"Forget that! We've learned something highly interesting." Krang smirked. "That supercomputer I wanted is still around."

"Oh yeah, it's still around. We've been working all night thanks to it still being around!" Shredder fumed. "If Barney loves it so much, let him keep it. It's not worth the aggravation."

"It must be back to normal now as well," Krang retorted. "Just think how powerful we'd be if we could get it to work for us!"

"It completely hates us," Shredder frowned. "You know it seemed to be Baxter's pet. And judging from the way it was talking yesterday, it also thinks a lot of Barney."

"It's a computer!" Krang snapped. "Computers are lower than organic lifeforms. They can be made to do whatever the user wants them to do!"

"Then why did all of our computers go down because Barney's computer wanted to knock them offline?!" Shredder cried.

"It wasn't working properly thanks to the digital mites we used," Krang insisted. "I want you to go to the surface, find it, and bring it back here."

"Oh sure, like that's going to be easy," Shredder scowled. "We can't even find where Barney is!"

"I'm way ahead of you." Krang typed into the computer. "Barney has a house in town. Here it is."

Shredder stared as the image of an imposing mansion appeared on the screen. "He's moving up in the world."

"He bought this house years ago," Krang said boredly.

"It doesn't look like anyone's home," Shredder objected.

"Well, Barney's so chummy with Baxter lately, maybe I can find one by finding the other." Krang typed some more. "Baxter's car is heading downtown."

Shredder stared at the screen. "There's Baxter . . . and Barney . . . and . . . what?!" He leaned forward. "There's the laptop now! That alien computer is using a solid energy generator, the same as it did at Channel 6!"

"Good!" said Krang. "Take Bebop and Rocksteady and go get it!"

"Aww, do we have to?" Bebop said from the doorway. "Haven't we tried to hurt Barney enough?"

"This isn't about Barney, you morons!" Krang snapped. "This is about getting hold of the most powerful computer in the universe!"

"We already tried that," Rocksteady objected.

"So now you have a chance to do it right!" Krang retorted.

"Are you forgetting something, Krang?" Shredder scowled. "That computer blew up all the modules' control panels. And you may have got the screen in working order again, but what about the portal?!"

"It's still not perfect, but you should be able to make one round trip the way it is now," Krang said. "Go on, get going!" He pressed the button and the portal opened.

"You heard him," Shredder growled. "Into the portal!"

"But I don't wanna get Barney's computer," Bebop complained as he walked into the blue light.

"Yeah! Especially after it trashed the place!" Rocksteady added.

"We're getting it anyway." Shredder pushed Rocksteady on through. "Move!"

Krang leaned back, folding his arms. "Now to see if they can actually do something right."

xxxx

Baxter drove through the Manhattan streets, trying as much as possible to avoid traffic. Vincent was sitting next to him and Barney was in the backseat, tensely looking around.

"I know mutants are coming to be better accepted, or at least tolerated, in town," he said. "But I really don't know about you, Vincent."

"I want to try, at least," Vincent said. "Naturally if it doesn't work, I'll have to go back to our original idea that I'll only use the solid energy generator at our house or Baxter's apartment. But they've tried more than once to use robots for law enforcement. They must be fairly open-minded about them, so why not me as well?"

"It's possible," Barney reluctantly admitted.

"I'd like to believe it is," Baxter said. ". . . Or that if all else fails, our current status in the city will be strong enough that they will be willing to trust Vincent when they see he's with us."

"Not everyone is even aware of us, Brother," Barney retorted, impatiently brushing his hair away from his face. "None of the people I met while wandering realized who I am, except for that last woman I visited."

"Yes, but now that you've not only 'died' but come back from the dead, I think most of the city has surely seen your picture by now," Baxter said.

Barney fell silent. He supposed that was possible. He still had Betty and Jim's contact information and he had felt it only right to let them know he was well. They had been thrilled to hear from him, but had informed him that they had seen him on the news and knew he was alright. They had also expressed dismay that he hadn't let them know he didn't remember who he was, but Jim had been impressed that he had successfully bluffed his way through it.

He had to wonder what the grouchy old lady who had given him the coat would think. He could imagine her shaking her head and commenting on how he couldn't bring himself to get help even under circumstances like that. But he'd had his reasons. And whether it had been wise or not, his methods had still eventually restored his memory and brought him home.

Baxter pulled up in front of a clothing store and started to get out. "Well, here we are."

Vincent undid the seatbelt and stepped outside. "This looks like just what I was thinking of," he said.

Several people passed by and barely gave any of them a glance.

Baxter chuckled. "I think New Yorkers are going back to their usual blase attitudes where it comes to unusual things."

Barney still looked wary. But he got out of the car as well and followed them inside.

"Hello," the clerk greeted as Baxter went in first. "Can I . . ." He trailed off as Vincent and Barney entered after him. ". . . Help you? . . ."

"We're just looking," Barney said gruffly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

The clerk leaned back, shaking his head in bowled-over disbelief.

Vincent found several things he liked and tried them on. Baxter offered commentary while Barney mostly stayed silent and reacted with a deadpan or a raised eyebrow. The neon pink floral shirt earned a facepalm. But finally, seeing how Vincent was truly enjoying himself, Barney started to relax and even faintly smile a bit.

"It's a little strange for you, isn't it?" Baxter said at last. "Not so much that Vincent wants to wear clothes, but that he wants this show of independence and individuality."

"It's strange, but when I think about it, it shouldn't be," Barney said. "He was always an independent thinker. He said exactly what he wanted to say, no matter the consequences. Why should his actions be any different?"

Baxter smiled. "That's how I feel about it."

"Of course, a computer wearing clothes is bizarre," Barney grunted. "Especially . . . these kinds of clothes."

"Would you rather he dressed like us?" Baxter said in amusement.

"No," Barney said flatly. "I just wonder why he wants to dress like that."

"He . . . has his reasons," Baxter said vaguely. "Why don't you ask him?"

"Maybe I will." Barney looked at him, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "You seem to know why."

"I faintly remember," Baxter mused. "It was a long time ago. Or it seems so, anyway. . . ." He fell silent.

Barney didn't push it. Baxter had closed himself off again. That was a topic and a time he did not want to discuss. Barney would respect that.

He fell silent as well and folded his arms, letting his mind wander.

xxxx

Shredder roared in frustration as the portal came out in a fountain, which he of course promptly fell into along with Bebop and Rocksteady. "Oh, that wretched computer! It damaged the portal's compass! Now we've come out nowhere near Baxter and the others!" He shook his fists to the sky before climbing out of the fountain.

"Why don't we just forget the whole thing?" Bebop said hopefully as he got out as well.

"Yeah!" Rocksteady echoed. "Why do we wanna kidnap a computer that hates us?!"

"Krang wants it," Shredder growled. "I really don't." He stomped off, his boots squeaking on the sidewalk. "I would rather forget that Barney Stockman and his beloved supercomputer exist. But Krang is still in charge and we'll have to do what he wants. For now."

Sighing to each other, Bebop and Rocksteady followed.

xxxx

"So Michelangelo, tell us what we're doing here again?"

Michelangelo looked to Raphael with a cheery grin. "You know why, Dude. Baxter called and asked us to meet him and Barney and Vincent here. He didn't say why, just that Vincent wanted to talk in person."

"It's an odd place for a meeting," Leonardo remarked. He parked the Van and looked around.

"There they are over there," Donatello pointed. "They're coming out of that store. Vincent is . . . wearing clothes."

". . . Okay, now this gives new meaning to The Computer Wore Tennis Shoes," Raphael flatly said. "Only he's not wearing shoes at all-just an open shirt so loud it's screaming and shorts. In the middle of winter."

"That is . . . unique," said Splinter.

"I guess computers don't get cold?" Michelangelo shrugged. "At least, not like people do?" He hopped out the side door.

Baxter noticed them first and headed in their direction. "Hello!" he waved.

"Hey, Baxter Dude!" Michelangelo waved back.

Baxter, Barney, and Vincent arrived and entered the Turtle Van, followed quickly by Michelangelo. Leonardo closed the door behind them. "Well, you've been busy, I see," he remarked, turning in the driver's seat to face them.

"Vincent decided he wanted to integrate deeper into human culture," Baxter explained.

"So we see," Raphael remarked.

"I think it's gnarly!" Michelangelo chirped.

"Thank you," said Vincent. "I found it interesting. Humans have such varied ideas on clothing."

"Well." Leonardo gave a friendly smile. "What did you want to see us about, Vincent?"

Vincent shifted, looking uncomfortable. "I . . ." He glanced to Baxter and Barney before looking back to the Turtles and Splinter. "I suppose it sounds strange to say this out of the blue, but everything that happened yesterday has caused me to think . . . about a lot of things. . . ."

"Well?" Raphael sounded impatient.

Vincent took a cautious step closer. "I . . . I'm sorry. Not for yesterday this time, but . . . well, I still am sorry for that, but I mean . . . I'm sorry for everything I encouraged Baxter to do, to you and to other people." He looked to Baxter, whose eyes widened in surprise. "And I'm sorry I did that to you, old pal. I know you feel that I helped you hold on to your humanity longer than you could have done without me, and I'm glad for whatever I did that helped you in that direction, but you deserved better than me. Revenge is seen as a good thing in my culture, but it only seems destructive on Earth."

"Vincent . . ." Baxter smiled kindly. "I regret the horrible things we did, but I will never regret meeting you. You will always have the distinction of being my first real friend."

"I'm glad," said Vincent.

"As am I," Splinter said. "Vincent, I accept your apology."

"You know I do!" Michelangelo said.

"I do too," Leonardo said. "And . . . I should probably apologize too, Vincent. . . . I . . ." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm the one who blew up the solid energy generator at Channel 6 and hurt you."

Vincent looked at him in surprise. "That was you? I never knew who it was, but I thought it was probably Donatello. . . ."

Donatello flushed. "I guess that shouldn't surprise me. I'm sorry I hurt you too, Vincent. I don't torture anyone for information as a general rule, even if one of the other Turtles is in trouble. With you, I . . . guess I figured it didn't matter. It was hard to think of you as being alive the same as an organic being, even though I knew you felt pain."

"And now?" Vincent asked.

"Now I've seen that you really are alive," Donatello assured him. "I don't want to hurt you again, both because of that and because Baxter loves you so much."

"Donatello helped Barney and Baxter fix the laptop last night," Michelangelo put in.

"I didn't do that much," Donatello said. "Barney did the most."

"I'm grateful anyway," Vincent said in surprise.

Raphael sighed, knowing that now he needed to speak. "I still don't like what you did in the past, Vincent. I never will. I forgave Baxter, finally, but I didn't see how I could forgive a computer. But I guess if you're trying to be nice, I can try too."

"I can't expect anything else," Vincent said.

"It . . . does mean something that you're sorry," Raphael said. "And I guess when you adore Baxter so much, you'll never deliberately do anything else to hurt us. But it'll still take a while before I can really trust you, you know? It took a while with Baxter, too."

"That's only logical," Vincent said.

Barney, who had been silent all that time, stepped forward now. "I'm also sorry," he said quietly. "But my sins are far greater than Vincent's. I know I can never be forgiven . . . by all of you," he added when he saw Michelangelo about to protest.

"Do not be so sure, Doctor," Splinter said. "We have all seen how you've changed. And of course, forgiveness is not based on whether or not the one who has done wrong has changed for the better. But when you have, that is all the more reason to forgive." He looked firmly into Barney's eyes. "I have already forgiven you."

"And you know I have," Michelangelo said.

"And that is unbelievable enough," Barney said.

"It took me a while, but I forgave you," Leonardo said. "And I believe you've proven yourself worthy of trust as well."

Donatello nodded. ". . . It's logical to forgive you; carrying hate around is unhealthy. But sometimes I think I've forgiven you and then later I'm not sure. I'll never forget how I was the only one left when the others were turned to gold. And you started it with what you did to Michelangelo. Maybe Bebop and Rocksteady wouldn't have even got the idea if it hadn't been for you. And regardless, even if that wasn't an issue, to do that to Michelangelo was abominable."

"I know," Barney said quietly. "And unlike you, I know what it's like to be stuck in that state. Knowing makes my actions all the more repugnant."

"You got that right, Bub," Raphael chimed in. "I know too. And without my knowledge, I wouldn't know what it was like for Michelangelo, because of course he never talks about it. You know, you make it really hard for me to know what to think about you. You ended up being our ally. Heck, you almost sacrificed yourself for the city. And then yesterday you even protected Michelangelo. Every logical bone in my body says I should forgive you. Worse, part of me actually wants to. But then I think about everything you did, not just to us but to Baxter all through the years, and I just can't make myself do it. I feel like you still haven't paid for everything you did, and that there's really no way you can, so I can't forgive you and forget about all the garbage you pulled."

"I understand," Barney said with a nod. "And I know you're right. I can never make up for my sins."

"But that isn't the point." Baxter laid a hand on Barney's shoulder. "No, no one can erase their evil or thoughtless deeds from the past. But if they're trying to be a decent person going forward, that should count for something. It should count for a lot. You said that maybe you never would forgive the me of the past for what he did, but you forgave me as I am now. Why can't you do the same for Barney?"

"I don't know why!" Raphael snapped. "Maybe because you only went bad when you cracked up. Maybe because Barney's been bad almost from the moment he was born."

"That's not true!" Baxter gasped.

Barney's shoulders slumped. "It is, isn't it? I hurt you even when we were children. I made you afraid of me when we were eight years old. And it only got worse from there!"

Baxter walked around to be in front of Barney and gripped his shoulders. "You were in so much pain even as a child. We both were. But neither of us shared our pain with the other. I released mine by choosing to be alone and reading or experimenting with science. You released yours by . . . being angry. Our lives might have been so much different had we tried to share each other's pain."

"I didn't want to share mine," Barney said. "You longed to share yours, but you were too afraid of me. And you wouldn't have been if it hadn't been for my anger. You were too gentle, too kind for the life we had to grow up in. You deserved so much better than our absentee parents and an exploding volcano for a brother."

"I was weak," Baxter said. "I always loved you, but I stopped trying to reach out to you because of my fear and discouragement. If I had never given up, maybe the results would have been the same years ago as they have been in the present day. Maybe I finally would have reached you back then."

"We'll never know," Barney said. "I always knew you loved me, even if sometimes I tried to make myself feel better about my anger by telling myself that you didn't. And knowing didn't make me a better person. They say you have to hit rock bottom before you can begin to climb back up. I hit it when I did that abominable thing to Michelangelo. I tried to tell myself that was proof that I belonged with Shredder and Krang. But you and Vincent-and even that man Krang kidnapped-never believed that even then. And between you, you finally reached me."

"I'm glad we could," Vincent said softly.

Baxter looked to the Turtles, and to Raphael and Donatello in particular. "I understand if you can never forgive Barney for what he did to Michelangelo. But at least, please don't hold what he did to me against him. I finally realized I forgave him for all of it. I would hate to think that I am in any way responsible for your continuing ill feelings towards him."

"You're not," Raphael retorted. "He is." He gave a heavy sigh. "I used to think I could never forgive you either and somehow it happened. But knowing you were wacko helped a lot. Barney was always sane and that makes it real tough."

He looked to Barney. "But honestly? I am going to try. At first I didn't even want to do that much, but I started making an effort when I kept seeing how much Baxter loved you. I tried harder when I saw you actually starting to change. And seeing what you did yesterday makes me really want to try. You protected Michelangelo." His voice got thick. "You didn't have to do that. You could have got hurt. You're still recovering from what you did at the Dansing Building and you sure as heck could have figured you weren't going to risk any more injuries! But . . . you did it anyway. It doesn't matter that he probably could have got out of the way. What matters is that you risked your safety for him. And I . . . I want to thank you for that."

"I'm glad I was there, just in case he couldn't have gotten out of the way in time," Barney said. "And I'm amazed that you even want to try to forgive me. Even if you can't make yourself do it in the end, just knowing you wanted to is a shock to me."

Without warning the back doors flew open and everyone looked up with a jerk. "At last, I've found you!" Shredder cried. Bebop and Rocksteady appeared behind him.

Raphael reached for his sais. "Oh seriously, Shred-Head? What now?"

"I've come for something Krang wants. And none of you wretched reptiles are going to stand in my way!" Shredder tried to leap into the Van, but a sudden sneeze exploded behind his mask and he stumbled.

"Gee, Boss, you shouldn't have been walkin' all this way when you're soaking wet in the middle of winter," Bebop said.

"And it never would have happened if it wasn't for that miserable computer!" Shredder pointed at Vincent.

Baxter's eyes flashed. "You always blame everyone around you for your problems, Shredder. You were always blaming me, even when it wasn't my fault. Alright, Vincent wreaked havoc on the Technodrome. But it wouldn't have happened if Krang hadn't hurt him in the first place!"

"Vincent?" Shredder mocked. "So it has a name. Did you name it or did Barney?"

"That's always been my name . . . more or less," Vincent retorted.

"Nevermind! Get it!" Shredder gestured wildly into the Van.

"Aww, do we have to?" Rocksteady whined.

"Yes, you have to!" Shredder roared. But the yell was cut off by a fit of coughing and he stumbled, turning away.

". . . Yeah," said Raphael. "Just please don't remove the mask and expose us to all those Shredder germs." He ran forward to the open doors, followed by the other Turtles.

"Oh well," said Bebop. "We don't wanna get the computer, but we'd love to thrash the Turtles."

"Yeah!" said Rocksteady.

An all-out brawl began.

"So what now?" Barney frowned.

"Let's get Vincent out of here while they're fighting," Baxter said. He pushed the button to open the side door.

He had just run out with Vincent when Shredder leaped into view. "I suspected what you were planning," he sneered. "You won't get away this time!"

Vincent pressed a button on the laptop keyboard and a strange ray gun appeared on top of it. "I think we will." He handed it to Baxter, who pulled the trigger.

Shredder jumped back, shredding the energy ropes that shot out from the barrel of the gun. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you. But your little tricks aren't good enough for me! Even if I am fighting a cold."

"What about me, Oroku Saki?"

Shredder looked back to the Van as Splinter spoke. "I don't have time to face off against you today, old man," he snapped.

"Then you will make time," Splinter insisted. "I will not allow you to abduct Vincent." He leaped in the air, aiming a kick at Shredder.

Shredder jumped to meet him, grabbing his foot and swinging him through a nearby plate glass window.

"Splinter!" Baxter cried in horror.

Shredder cackled. "Even with a cold, I am stronger than my old master!"

He had forgotten all about Barney, who had slipped out through the other side door. Suddenly Barney launched himself on Shredder's back. Shredder staggered, swiping in aggravation at the new hindrance. "Get off of me, you traitorous pest!" he snarled. "I wish that you truly had met your end in the Dansing Building's collapse!"

"Then I'm all the more glad I didn't," Barney quipped.

Again Baxter used the rope gun, aiming at Shredder's ankles. The rope wrapped around them and pulled him to the ground with a cry.

Barney leaped off his back. "You won't get Vincent," he said coldly. "Take Bebop and Rocksteady and get out of here before we do any worse to you."

"You do worse to me?" Shredder pulled a ray gun of his own out from under his cape. "I think not."

Without warning he blasted point-blank at Barney, hitting him in the chest. Barney's eyes widened in pain and he reached to grip the affected area as he collapsed to the ground.

"Barney!" Baxter and Vincent screamed in unison.

"What did you do to him?!" Baxter demanded.

"The same thing I'm going to do to you, you little worm." Again Shredder blasted, hitting Baxter in the side. He gave a choked cry and fell to the ground on his other side. "Now it's just you and me, computer."

Vincent's blue eyes burned with fire. "I will never go with you, especially not after you hurt the two people I hold most dear. And someone else who was trying to protect me." Electricity crackled at his fingertips. He shot out, blasting at Shredder at the same moment Shredder blasted at him. The blasts met in mid-air, clashing in a burst of blue and red.

Dodging the fireworks, Vincent knelt beside Baxter, who was closest to him. "Baxter! Baxter, old pal! Wake up . . . please, wake up. . . ." He gripped Baxter's shoulder. He could see Baxter was breathing, but there was no response.

Then the blast faded and Shredder was upon him. "Your devotion to these pathetic brothers will be your undoing." He held out the ray gun.

Vincent brought up a hand, catching the gun as it was pointed at his chest. He sent a burst of electricity through it that channeled into Shredder's armor. The ninja warlord screamed, falling back as the gun fell to the ground.

The action, however, had resulted in a stalemate. When Vincent had grabbed the gun, Shredder had pulled the trigger and sent the ray's power into Vincent. He slumped over Baxter.

A weak and crackling portal opened and Krang lumbered out. "Shredder, you incompetent!" he fumed. "I'll have to finish this myself!" He reached for Vincent, but couldn't pry his grip loose from Baxter. "What . . . ! It won't let go!"

"Take them both!" Shredder mumbled in a daze. "The portal is going to close!"

Muttering and cursing to himself, Krang lifted both Baxter and Vincent in his robot body's arms and dashed through the portal. Shredder gave chase.

"Wait for us!" Rocksteady yelled. Stumbling from the battle with the Turtles, he staggered into the portal and Bebop crashed into him just as it sparked and closed.

"Wait!" Donatello cried as he ran over with the others, but in vain.

"It's no use!" Leonardo said in dismay. "They're gone. And they've got Baxter and Vincent!"

"And they've left Barney!" Michelangelo dropped to his knees next to the red-haired scientist. "Oh, maximum bummer. What did they do to him?!"

"Is he alive?!" Donatello demanded.

"Yeah. . . ." Michelangelo gently shook him. "But he's not waking up. . . ."

Recovering from the harsh crash, Splinter limped away from the store window and came over to the group. "What has happened?" he asked in sickened alarm.

"Shredder got Baxter and Vincent, Master," Leonardo reported. "And Barney's lying here. . . . And you're limping! What happened?!"

"I failed to protect them," Splinter answered, his heart heavy. He knelt on Barney's other side and lifted the limp wrist. "Barney's vital signs are normal," he reported. "Perhaps it was merely a knock-out ray."

Raphael pushed past them. "Well, let's get him in the Turtle Van and see what we can do for him," he growled, bending down to pick him up.

"I'll have to see if I can get my portal going too," Donatello said. "We have to get to the Technodrome and save Baxter and Vincent!"

Raphael paused, Barney limp in his arms. "Wait. Does that mean we'll have to bring him into the Lair?!" He indicated Barney.

"It would seem so," Splinter said. "Unless we try to reach the Technodrome by taking the Van underwater in Submarine Mode."

"That's no good," Donatello shook his head. "That only works if we know exactly where the Technodrome is. It's always moving under the ocean, so right now we have no idea of its location. The portal is our best bet . . . if I can get it running again."

"Fat chance, Donatello," Raphael growled. "It barely worked on Christmas Eve!"

"We must try," Splinter said. "And yes, we must take Barney into the Lair."

"Maybe April could look after him," Raphael suggested.

"Or maybe we should extend this trust to Barney," Splinter calmly answered. "If you are still concerned, Raphael, consider that he won't know the way."

Raphael's shoulders slumped. "Alright, Sensei. You know best." He headed for the Van. "Let's haul shell."

xxxx

"What's your name? You have a name, don't you, even though you're a computer?"

"I have a call sign. The aliens address me as this."

"That looks like the letter Z in the English alphabet."

"I know. Strange, isn't it? Actually, it's a symbol in my native tongue that means this in English."

"V.I. -2152. All of that from one symbol?!"

"The alien race I'm from doesn't like to waste time."

"You know English pretty well."

"I should. I've been here for three centuries. And we visited occasionally before we crashed. After you Earthlings finally discovered television, I entertained myself by watching it through the decades. I like 1980s television the best. Riptide, Magnum P.I., The A-Team. . . . Knight Rider is my favorite."

"I guess that makes sense. It's all about a living computer in a car."

"What's your name?"

". . . Baxter Stockman. I used to be a great scientist until I was turned into this freak! Now I'm part-fly and it's taking over my mind more and more each day! I can't even think anymore how to be a scientist!"

"Alright, Baxter, don't cry. We'll think of something. I promise I'll help you."

"You promise? Really?"

"Of course. And I keep my promises."

xxxx

"Help me! Help me!"

He had failed. He had promised to help Baxter and he hadn't been able to. Oh, he had given Baxter some temporary pleasure by being able to use the mutation gun on some of his enemies, but the gun hadn't worked on his own transformation. And he hadn't reminded Baxter about replacing the final piece of the warp drive in time. Now Baxter was stranded in dimensional limbo and he was . . . he was . . .

He wasn't dead. When the ship had fallen apart, he had thought that was the end. But he had only blacked out. He was alive and Baxter . . .

"Help! Oh someone, please help me!"

Baxter was in trouble. Above the rock where he had fallen, Baxter was trapped in a giant spider web, with the web's occupant bearing down on him.

Were the ship's weapons still working? Yes, some of the laser cannons were. He had to act now!

A couple of well-placed blasts destroyed the spider and sent Baxter tumbling out of the web and onto the rock. He immediately hugged his new friend. "Oh thank you! Thank you! I thought I was finished." He sobbed in relief, still hugging the computer. "I guess I've thought now and then about ending it all, but I really want to live, even though I'm in this horrible state. I want to be normal again."

"And you will be, Baxter, I promise. But right now, we need to get off of this rock."

Baxter rocked back. "But how? The ship's in pieces. I can't put it all together again! I can barely even stay lucid for five minutes at a time! The fly keeps taking over!"

"We're not taking the ship. Just take me. See that desktop model over there?"

Baxter looked. "Y-Yes. . . ."

"I want you to open my mainframe, remove the motherboard, and place it in the desktop model."

"Okay," Baxter said slowly. "But why?"

"I'm in the motherboard. If you place it in the desktop model, you can take me with you. You can carry that, can't you?"

"I think so. . . ." Baxter went over and lifted it. "Sure, this is easy."

"Alright then. I'll tell you what to do. Try to pay attention in spite of the fly."

"I will!" Baxter insisted. "I want you to come with me. You're my only friend. The only friend I've . . . ever had in my life. . . ."

He wanted to ask more about that, but right now he was worried about getting Baxter to follow his instructions without any more foul-ups. He had best stick to that while Baxter was able to pay attention.

xxxx

Z, or Vincent, as he supposed he would have to get used to being called, sadly watched as Baxter lay sleeping on his stomach, his wings folded on his back. He looked at least semi-peaceful for the moment, so Vincent did not want to awaken him prematurely.

There was scarcely any food in this dimensional limbo. Baxter was suffering the effects of starvation more and more each day in addition to the fly's takeover of his mind. Every day Vincent was surprised anew by how badly his friend's mental state was degrading. He had managed to find a few scraps of edible things to keep Baxter going, but he could not find anything to help cure Baxter's horrific mutation. He had been over and over his databanks, but the only cures he found were for standard mutations, not an actual fusing of two beings. He wasn't about to give up, but right now the prognosis wasn't hopeful.

Baxter was an intriguing series of contrasts. Sometimes he ranted and raved about revenge and all the people who had hurt him. Sometimes his mind jumped from one topic to another in rapid succession. And sometimes he talked for ages about his past, desperately trying to keep hold of his humanity and his memories instead of letting the fly take them all away.

Vincent learned a lot about him from those rambles. He saw Baxter's true spirit behind the madness-a sweet, gentle man who had taken abuse from almost everyone for most of his life and then had finally snapped when the cruelty became too much to bear. Vincent adored, even loved, Baxter and wanted to do whatever he could to make his friend happy. Someone needed to; no one else ever had. As far as Vincent was concerned, Baxter was the greatest guy in the universe. To treat him ill was a crime.

xxxx

"Wake up. Wake up, you complicated mass of circuitry!"

Vincent flinched, not at the booming words but at the rough hand on his shoulder. He scowled, shrugging it off. He was lying on a cold floor, but a warm body was on his other side. His left arm was draped over the motionless shoulders, his hand gripping the upper arm.

"Baxter?" he whispered.

"Your precious friend is still unconscious, but the effect of the ray wore off quicker on you. Get up and serve your new masters!"

Vincent's expression darkened. He knelt on the floor, ignoring Shredder's commands, and took Baxter in his arms.

"You heard him," Krang frowned. The hulking shadow of his robot body towered over them.

"I heard," Vincent said coolly. "I have better things to do."

"Insolent wretch!" Shredder bent down and tried to pull Baxter out of Vincent's arms.

Vincent responded by blasting him back against the console. "You hurt my friends and brought me here against my will. Who's being insolent?"

Krang stared at Shredder's flight. "This . . . isn't going to be easy."

"I think I want a lawyer," Shredder mumbled.

"You want a lawyer?" Vincent mocked. "We're the ones being wronged here."

Baxter groaned. "Vincent? . . ."

"I'm here, old pal," Vincent told him. "Everything's going to be okay."

Krang folded his arms. "You should have been repaired along with all the other computers in town."

"I was," Vincent replied.

"Then you should be ready to serve again." Krang pointed at the console. "We still haven't managed to repair all the damage you caused here yesterday. We need you to be our computer."

Vincent sneered. "You should have thought of the possible consequences before you pulled your scheme."

"We didn't even know you were still around!" Shredder boomed. "Barney tricked us! He always tricked us!"

"Hooray for Barney," said Vincent. He looked down at Baxter. "How are you feeling?"

"My side hurts," Baxter mumbled.

"Shredder used a knock-out ray on us," Vincent said. "We're on the Technodrome."

Baxter stiffened. "Everyone?!"

"Just the two of us." Vincent glowered at Krang. "Or is Barney here as well?"

"He's back with the Turtles," Krang said. "They'll have to figure out what to do with him." He looked impatient. "Whether you want to or not, you'll have to work for us. A computer isn't supposed to care who its masters are; it just does what it's told without question."

"How do you know?" Vincent retorted. "You're not a computer."

"A computer isn't alive!" Krang shrieked. "It can't care! It's incapable of caring!"

"That shows how little you know." Vincent got to his feet and gently drew Baxter up with him.

"Vincent is alive," Baxter agreed. "He cares very much. And that should be obvious to you by now."

Shredder scowled. "You have no qualms about serving this weasel," he said to Vincent. "And his brother."

"I help them," Vincent retorted. "I don't serve anyone. Not anymore."

"Serve, help, what's the difference?!" Krang snapped.

"The difference is, Baxter and Barney have always treated me as an equal," Vincent said. "That's something you could never do."

Krang clenched his teeth. "If it would get you to work for us, I would seriously consider it right now."

"It wouldn't be enough," Vincent said. "I won't help anyone who's an enemy to my friends. I'm honored to do anything for Baxter and Barney. I would be ashamed to do anything for you."

"Oh!" Shredder pumped his fists to the ceiling. "What did you do to this computer, Baxter? How did you program it with such unyielding loyalty?! I must know so I can reprogram it to be loyal to us!"

"I didn't program him at all," Baxter snipped. "He came to me this way. There is nothing you can do to make him help you if he's in his right mind. And you've already seen how he acts in his wrong mind. I wouldn't recommend trying to make him do anything against his will again."

Vincent reached up, tapping a few commands into the laptop. A hatch opened and a troop of Foot Soldiers entered.

"Ah," Krang smiled. "If we can't make you cooperate, maybe our army can."

"You forgot one thing," Vincent smirked.

The Foot Soldiers surrounded Shredder and Krang.

"What is this?!" Shredder roared.

"The last time you knew I was here, I took over everything on the Technodrome," Vincent said in delight.

"Oh no," Krang gulped.

"I still have the information in my databanks for hacking into everything on your fortress from when Barney did it," Vincent continued. "So I've just taken over again."

"Nooo!" Shredder wailed. "Bebop! Rocksteady! Get in here . . . a-choo!"

"Bless you," Krang said flatly.

Vincent typed another command and the doors started to slam shut on all sides of the room. "Bebop and Rocksteady won't be able to come in," he said. "Come on, Pal. Let's see if we can get the portal going again."

Baxter nodded. "I'd love to." He followed Vincent to the console, chuckling as Shredder and Krang were marched across the room by the Foot Soldiers bearing their weapons.

Vincent pointed to the last remaining open door. "Take them down the hall and lock them . . . in the broom closet," he smirked.

"Not the broom closet!" Shredder screamed. "Do you have any idea how long it took us to get out the last time you put us in there?!"

The Foot Soldiers prodded him and Krang along with their laser blasters.

"I have some idea," Vincent replied.

"I hate computers!" Krang caterwauled. "I hate them, I hate them, I hate them!"

"I'll have you know," Vincent said softly, just before the door closed, "the feeling is mutual."

xxxx

Donatello sat on the floor in the Lair's living room, surrounded by pieces and parts of every shape and size. The portal sat in front of him, just as stubborn and apparently broken as always. He sighed as he fit two parts together and tried to attach them to the portal. "I don't know, guys," he said. "I'm just afraid this isn't going to work."

April leaned over the back of the couch, watching as Splinter gently brushed a damp cloth along Barney's forehead and face. "What about Baxter's Turtle-Comm?" she wondered. "Has anyone tried to reach him on that and see if they're okay?"

"They're on the Technodrome," Raphael flatly pointed out. "They're not okay. And talk about calling at a time when it might cause trouble. That would be the mother lode!"

Barney finally groaned, reaching up a hand to bat away the cloth. "Vincent?" he mumbled. "Baxter?"

"I am afraid they are not here," Splinter said, his voice kind and concerned. "I was unable to protect them or you. Are you alright, Barney?"

Barney's eyes opened halfway. "I . . . where am I?"

"You are in the Lair," Splinter said.

That immediately woke Barney up the rest of the way. "I'm where?!" He looked around in disbelief. "Why am I here?" He shot a wary look at Raphael, as though certain he would not be here if Raphael had anything to say about it and wondering when he was going to be kicked out.

Raphael just folded his arms. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Fighting Shredder," Barney frowned. "And . . ." His hands went to his chest. "He shot me with some sort of ray gun. . . ."

"You know, I wonder how many different kinds of ray guns we've had on this show," Raphael remarked. "This one seems to have been a good old-fashioned knock-out ray."

Barney scowled. "Wonderful. But . . ." He looked at Raphael, then at Splinter and April. "Is that why I'm here?"

"Partially," Splinter said. "Baxter and Vincent were both abducted. The only way to reach them is to activate Donatello's portal. The portal was here. You were in need of help."

"So we did the logical thing and brought you down here," Raphael finished. "Of course, since you were unconscious at the time, you don't know the route to get here."

Barney flinched. It was understandable, but it still stung a bit to basically be told that he was not trusted with that information. Still, he had more important things to worry about. "Why were they both taken?!" he exclaimed. "Shredder shouldn't have any interest in Baxter!"

"Perhaps he thought he could use Baxter as leverage to force Vincent to obey him," Splinter suggested. It was a dark and ugly thought and he hated to say it, but he felt Barney should be aware of the possibility.

Barney immediately struggled off the couch. "We have to get to them," he said in desperation. "Is there anything I can do to help with this portal?"

Donatello looked somewhat wary, but he nodded. Barney could certainly be trusted when it came to something like this. "Yes," he said. "If you feel well enough, come over and I'll show you what to do."

Michelangelo came in from the kitchen, Leonardo following. "Hey, Barney," he greeted. "I'm glad you're awake. Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," Barney tossed over his shoulder. Truthfully, his chest still hurt where the ray had hit him, but he couldn't care less about that. He went over to Donatello and began following his instructions.

"I made a pizza, if anyone's hungry," Michelangelo offered. He was munching a slice himself, but he was not his usual cheery self and his eyes were filled with worry. He was very afraid of what was happening to Baxter and Vincent.

"Thanks, Michelangelo," April smiled. "I'll have some." It was mostly to try to help him feel better, although she had to admit she was kind of hungry.

Leonardo set the pizza on the table in front of the couch. "Baxter and Vincent are both very resourceful," he said to the whole room, but largely to Michelangelo and Barney. "I'm sure they're okay."

"Only Krang's resourceful too," Raphael pointed out. "And he's nasty besides."

Barney set his teeth. Baxter could be being tortured right now. On the other hand, Vincent knew how to take control of the entire Technodrome. Surely he could save Baxter before anything too horrible happened.

And . . . perhaps it was strange, but now he was wondering about Bebop. The mutant warthog had certainly liked Barney. He had even helped Barney escape Shredder's wrath while he had been wandering with amnesia. He also hadn't wanted to abduct Vincent. Was there any chance that he might help Baxter and Vincent if he could, if for no other reason than because he wouldn't want Barney to be hurt by them being hurt?

He sighed. It was a nice thought, at least.

Everyone jumped a mile when Michelangelo's Turtle-Comm went off. "Oh wow, Dudes! It must be Baxter!" he exclaimed.

"Or Shredder, calling up to taunt us," Raphael muttered.

Michelangelo immediately opened it. "Baxter!" he cried in relief. "What's going on?! Are you okay?!"

Barney stopped working and looked over, tense, waiting for the answer.

"I'm alright, Michelangelo," Baxter assured him. "So is Vincent. How are Barney and Splinter?"

"They're okay, Dude," Michelangelo said. "They're just mondo worried about you guys."

Baxter relaxed. "Vincent has . . . taken care of Shredder and Krang for now, and in a very fitting way." He chuckled, then sobered. "But the Technodrome is still badly damaged from Vincent's assault yesterday. The modules aren't working and we can't reactivate the portal. We may be here for a while. But we wanted to let you know we're alright."

Barney got up and came over to the Turtle-Comm. "We're trying to reactivate Donatello's portal," he said. "I don't know who will have success first, but if the portal actually opens, you'll need to be ready to jump in immediately."

"We will be," Baxter promised. "We'll just stay here in the main control room."

Vincent came over now, hearing Barney's voice. "Barney! Are you really okay, Buddy?"

"Yes," Barney insisted. He relaxed to see both of his loved ones were indeed safe. "We'd all better get back to work."

"Yes," Baxter agreed.

"I'll let you go then, Baxter," Michelangelo said. "Good luck!"

"It will take skill to solve this mess," Baxter said.

"And probably luck too, since both portals are mondo bad off," said Michelangelo.

Baxter finally smiled a bit. "Have it your way, Michelangelo. We'll see you soon . . . we hope."

Michelangelo let out a sigh of relief as he hung up. "Alright! They're okay!" He grabbed another slice of pizza, exuberant again.

"What'd I tell you?" Raphael said. Now his appetite was back and he went for a slice as well, as did Leonardo.

Splinter shook his head at Raphael, but he was deeply gratified by this news.

"This is wonderful!" April exclaimed. "Now if someone can just get a portal working!"

"We will," Donatello said. "Somehow."

xxxx

Baxter was getting so forgetful as his mind went. The last time a portal had opened up, he had flown through without Vincent. He wasn't back and Vincent had no idea if he was even coming back. Maybe his mind would vanish the rest of the way without Vincent to try to help him keep hold of what was left of it. Maybe he would remember but not be able to get back. Or maybe . . . maybe . . . was there any chance that this plan would work and he would be able to get back to normal?

Vincent always longed for that, even prayed for that. He wanted Baxter to be whole again, to have his mind and his proper body. But he did wonder . . . would they still be friends if that time ever came? Baxter had indicated that he had never been impressed by artificial intelligence while sane, and although Vincent was not simply an A.I. program and he had his own mind, Baxter might see him as just another A.I. program if his mind returned. Then Vincent would probably be all alone again.

Of course, he was alone right now. And now that the desktop model had been blown sky-high and he was only a motherboard without a computer, it was far more horrifying and frightening than it had ever been before. He couldn't see. He had no way of fighting off an attack. But he could still hear and feel, and he waited desperately to hear the sound of buzzing wings and a plaintive voice calling for him.

Baxter was falling so far. This latest plan involved something about tapping into the language and culture of the flies and getting them to obey him. The fly had such a tight hold on his mind that Vincent didn't know what to ever do. Baxter was more fly than human by now.

He didn't know how long he was there: hours, days. . . . It didn't exactly feel like weeks, but he supposed it could have been. He had no way of measuring time now. But then he heard that welcome buzzing sound and felt hands lifting him once again.

"I'm so sorry!" Baxter sobbed. "I left you behind and I didn't mean to! You're my best friend. My only friend. . . ." He started to rock back and forth. "I don't know why I forgot."

"It's the fly, Baxter, old pal," Vincent said. "It made you forget. What happened? Is the portal still open?" It was pointless to ask if he was back to normal. The buzzing made it clear that he wasn't.

"No. I got sent back here through another one." Baxter hugged the motherboard close to his chest. "But that's okay this time. I forgot you! I'm so horrible. . . ."

"You're not horrible, Baxter." Vincent was always patient, even when Baxter's handicaps grew exasperating. But right now Vincent was not exasperated. He couldn't be if he tried. Baxter's guilt and anguish were heartbreaking.

"What am I then?" Baxter sniffled.

"You're a great guy who never got a break. But someday you're going to get it, old buddy. I'll help you."

"You will?" Now Baxter sounded awed.

"I always help you."

Baxter's voice took on a childlike tone. "That's true. You've always been my friend. I can count on you to help me any time."

Just not enough, Vincent thought sadly to himself. Never enough.

xxxx

Baxter looked confused as he hung up the Turtle-Comm. "It just occurred to me," he said. "Barney must actually be in the Turtles' Lair! They haven't talked to me about it, but I've been afraid they wouldn't want to let him in. At least, not for a while."

"It must have been because he was hurt," Vincent said. "Or maybe Donatello wanted help with the portal." He was sitting at the console, turning dials and twisting knobs and trying at times to communicate with the computer. He felt horrible for what he had done to it. It could be repaired, as he had so flippantly said, but to think of having hurt any computer sickened him.

"I guess it's probably one or the other," Baxter agreed. He paused, watching Vincent. "Are you alright?"

"I did all this damage," Vincent whispered. "I hurt this computer. I know I wouldn't have done it if Krang hadn't damaged me first, but still, just to know I'm responsible is a horrible feeling."

"I'm so sorry," Baxter said softly. "Can it be repaired?"

"Yes, but that could take hours, and still hours more to get the portal running again." Vincent flinched. "The computer just asked me why I did this."

"What will you tell it?" Baxter asked.

"I'll have to tell it the truth," Vincent said. "That Krang hurt me and I wasn't in my right mind. It's not an excuse, but an explanation. Still, I feel terrible saying it, as though I'm trying to justify myself."

"Surely it will understand," Baxter said in surprise. "It must know what it's like to break down."

Vincent was silent a moment, communicating and waiting for a response. "It understands," he said then. "But I don't feel any better about it."

Baxter nodded. "It's impossible to feel better about having done something horrible," he said quietly.

"And I encouraged you to do a lot of horrible things," Vincent said. "I thought that if I did what you wanted, you'd be happy. That, and . . . I didn't see anything wrong with revenge then."

"I know," Baxter said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "In my state at that time, I didn't either. I guess you could say it was like the blind leading the blind. But that doesn't mean that you didn't help me. You did, so much. And . . . I'd like to help you now, if I can."

Vincent looked up at him. "You've always helped me, Pal," he said. "I was so lonely for so long and you finally brought some new meaning into my life. I always felt that I could never begin to pay back what you did for me. But I'm glad at least that I was able to protect you here, on the Technodrome."

"So am I," Baxter said. "Is there anything I can do to help get this computer running?"

"I think so," Vincent said. "It would probably go faster with two. Three, rather; the computer is doing what it can to help the process."

Baxter pulled up a crate and sat at the console as well, following Vincent's lead on what to do. After a while, the screen started to show some signs of life. "It looks like we're getting somewhere," he said in relief.

"We are," Vincent said. "But the portal still isn't working."

A crackling portal appeared behind them and they spun around to look. "We have it open," Donatello announced as he leaned through, "but probably only for a minute! You'll have to come right now!"

Baxter got up. "Do you feel you can leave?" he asked.

"I'll come." Vincent stood as well. "I think we've repaired it enough that it will be alright. But I won't relinquish control of the Foot Soldiers or the broom closet until we're safely through."

"Broom closet?" Donatello blinked.

"It's a long story," said Baxter.

They hurried through. Almost immediately, the portal blew up behind them.

Barney cringed. "Are you both alright?!"

Baxter smiled. "We're fine, Barney. Thanks to you and Donatello, we're home safe."

"And you look alright too, Buddy," Vincent said in relief. He could never forget the sight of Barney and then Baxter collapsing to the ground when Shredder shot them. It had been horrible.

"I am," Barney insisted. "It was just a knock-out ray."

"It could have been something far worse," Vincent said.

"I guess Shred-Head didn't want to run the risk of damaging you," Raphael said. "But why did a knock-out ray work on you, anyway?"

"I don't know," Vincent admitted.

Baxter looked around the Lair and then back to Barney. "I'm surprised to see you here," he said.

Barney grunted. "Not as surprised as I was to wake up here. But I suppose I'll be blindfolded or something on the way out."

"Oh, I don't know," Raphael said. "You could sit on the floor in the back of the Turtle Van and then you wouldn't know where we are when it pulls out."

Baxter wasn't sure if Raphael was kidding or serious. "Is it really necessary to take such precautions with Barney?" he asked. "There were extenuating circumstances. And who on Earth would he tell about the Lair's location? He's not on Shredder's side anymore."

Raphael scowled. "Well, it's not up to me."

"I do not feel it is necessary," Splinter said.

"I sure don't," said Michelangelo.

"Me either," said April.

"He was sure helpful about the portal," Donatello said. "Of course, I'd expect that, under the circumstances."

"Forgiveness doesn't mean instant trust," Leonardo said. "But I do trust Master Splinter's judgment. And I also think that you've been proving that you're worthy of it." He looked to Barney. "He wouldn't have made that judgment call if he didn't completely believe it."

"I know," Raphael sighed. "And I won't go against Master Splinter. He always sees things clearer than I do, that's for sure."

"Alright!" Michelangelo chirped. "So everything's gnarly!"

Barney wasn't as sure that he would say that; he would likely feel uncomfortable visiting as long as Raphael and Donatello were leery of him to varying extents. But he appreciated at least that he would hopefully not have to be restrained in any way to keep him from knowing where they were.

xxxx

It was nearing evening by the time the trio was dropped off back at Baxter's car downtown.

"It's a good thing this was your day off," Barney remarked.

"Yes, isn't it," Baxter sighed. "And we still haven't got around to working with your house yet. We'd better buy some food before we go back."

"Aside from the dust, it really doesn't seem that bad off," Barney said. "And the past couple of days have probably disturbed most of that anyway."

"I'm sorry," Vincent said with regret. "If I hadn't wanted to go out . . ."

"No, Vincent," Baxter said kindly. "Shredder was after you. He would have come to the house to get you if we hadn't been out. And now that he and Krang have seen how stubborn you are, I don't think they'll be back to try again any time soon. It was probably a good thing to get it over with sooner rather than later."

"Well . . . if that's the way you want to see it," Vincent said slowly.

"It is," Baxter insisted.

Barney was silent but finally nodded. "Baxter makes sense," he said. "Anyway, now that you're free to move around, naturally you don't want to stay inside all the time if you don't have to."

"I think it will be alright," Baxter said. "New Yorkers are always getting used to many unusual things. Of course, Mother is another matter. . . ."

"We knew we'd have to face her eventually anyway," Barney grunted, folding his arms. "I still haven't seen her since my return. Of course, she hasn't tried to make contact, either."

"Just like when I came back," Baxter said quietly. "She claimed our father wasn't letting her make contact, but when I pointed out the faults in that statement she admitted she hadn't wanted to see me either."

Barney scoffed. "Maybe she knows I'll be angry about how she handled things and she doesn't want to deal with that right now. Although not seeing me will probably generate bad publicity."

"Would you even see her if she asked?" Vincent wondered.

A shrug. "I don't know. I haven't wanted to see her, but her staying away is starting to annoy me too." Barney leaned back in the seat. "She is such a hypocrite, crying over my 'death' but not wanting to see me when I come back alive."

"I'm sorry," Baxter said quietly.

"It's not as though I'd expect anything else from her," Barney muttered.

Baxter pulled in at a supermarket and they got out. Vincent certainly earned some strange looks from some of the customers, but there were no disturbing incidents. The group selected what they wanted and left in peace.

"There's one thing I think we should do before anything else goes wrong," Barney said when they arrived back at the house and set the groceries in the kitchen.

"What's that?" Baxter blinked in surprise.

"Get your phone," Barney instructed. "We'll take that picture."

Baxter brightened, both surprised and touched.

They gathered in the kitchen in front of the island, Vincent in the middle and Baxter and Barney on either side of him. Baxter set the phone on top of the stove and pressed the timer. Seconds later it clicked. Baxter stepped away, reaching to take the phone back and see how the picture had turned out.

"A family photo we can all feel good about," he smiled, showing it to them.

"You know, I think this is the first time I've ever been photographed," Vincent mused.

Barney nodded in approval. "Email us a copy," he said.

"I will," Baxter promised. "I should probably get back to my apartment tonight. . . ."

"I figured." Barney glanced at Vincent before looking back to Baxter. "Will you . . . stay for dinner?"

Baxter looked surprised again that Barney had been the one to ask. "Of course," he said happily.

Vincent smiled, pleased.