A/N: No, this doesn't mean that I have more time to work on Broken Shells, it just means that I forgot to post this yesterday.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Ninja Turtles


I. Hate. Amnesia.

That's really all there is to it. And to think, I don't even get to have the television type—you know, where the hero, or sometimes the villain, completely loses his or her memory from a bump on the head and knows absolutely nothing until they get bumped again. That's not for me.

I know I'm a turtle.
I know I can fight.
I know these guys surrounding me are my enemies.

I just don't know the names of things. And that bugs me.

I'm swinging my stick around, hitting these enemies dressed in all…what's that color called? Oh yeah, black. They're wearing black.

This contemplation has distracted me and Oh Man! I wish that the bump-me-on-the-head thing would work. As it is, the back of my head is aching like crazy and I'm lying on the ground, trying to push away that sharp, shiny stick thing. A sword flashes from somewhere in my mind. That's a sword. That's a deadly weapon that is trying to slice through my stick and then through my head.

The pressure on the back of my head is hurting so badly that I turn slightly to one side. Now I can see another turtle, his shell to me, also fighting. Somehow, I know he's my brother. But I don't know his name.

The enemy on top of me presses a bit harder and I grunt slightly. It is just enough to attract my brother's attention. With his…katana—those swords are called katana—he knocks down the rest of the enemies facing him so that now the only enemy left standing is the one standing over me. This enemy, this ninja, looks very nervous, if that is possible from being completely disguised.

"S-stay back!" he's demanding of my brother.

Suddenly, I remember a move that I must have forgotten and I twist my stick—wait, I hate calling it a stick—my bo and throw this ninja off of me. He goes flying directly into my brother's fist.

"Are you okay, Don?"

Don! My name's Don!

"Um, yeah," I reply, trying to keep my elation out of my voice as he helps me up. He gives me a bit of a funny look but then shrugs it off.

Don…Donatello. That's my name. My name means 'Given by God'.

And as though God himself gave them to me, all of my memories come rushing back as my brother, Leonardo, pulls back the manhole cover and motions for me to go down first.

I know I am considered to be the smartest of my brothers.
I know I am the one everyone goes to with their problems.
I know I am myself and absolutely nothing else.

And I know that nothing, not even amnesia, can take that away from me.


Yes, that ending was rather cheesy, but that's all I could come up with. If you liked the story, please say so! If not, I'd like to know that as well!