The Iceman Cometh

by LuckyLadybug

1987 series, my Exit the Fly verse. Shredder, Bebop, and Rocksteady descend on Channel 6 with a freeze ray.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 1987

The Iceman Cometh

By Lucky_Ladybug

Notes: The characters are not mine and the story is! ThickerThanLove encouraged the writing of this story to have a place to put a homeless scene I wrote. I very much like how it turned out! 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.

Krang was smirking with many pointy teeth bared when Shredder entered the main control room. "Alright, Krang, so what's this big idea you were so determined to see me about?"

Krang held up a strange ray gun. "This, Shredder!"

"Not another ray gun!" Shredder whined.

"A very special ray gun," Krang sneered. "It can instantly encase anyone in a huge block of ice! We can freeze the city and take it over!"

"Hmm." Shredder took the gun and looked it over. "What are these hose hook-ups for?"

"Extensions, so that more than one person can use the power of the gun at the same time," Krang replied.

"Won't that wear it down awfully fast?" Shredder frowned.

"It can recharge itself," Krang said. "And it's solar-chargeable. So you just have to run around outside on a sunny day and it will recharge in five minutes."

"That's impressive, I have to admit," Shredder conceded.

"No one can say that we haven't got with the environmental age," Krang smiled.

Shredder turned it over in his hands. "And there's an Instant Melt setting."

"In case we want to unthaw somebody," Krang shrugged. "Or in case we accidentally freeze each other. With Bebop and Rocksteady around, that's actually possible."

"I still don't know that I like the idea of yet another ray gun," Shredder said. "But I guess I'm willing to give it a try."

"Take Bebop and Rocksteady and go to the surface immediately!" Krang directed. "And if you see the Turtles or their friends, you can put them on ice." Another cruel grin.

"Now that I definitely like," Shredder declared. "Only Bebop will probably object if I try to do anything to Barney." He scowled. "Even after that weasel betrayed us, Bebop still admires him!"

"Maybe someday we'll have to do something about that," Krang mused. "But right now I just can't be bothered to worry about Bebop's idols."

"Alright, but if something goes wrong because of how he feels about Barney, I'll be the first to say 'I told you so,'" Shredder growled.

"It wouldn't be the first time," Krang retorted. "Get going!"

"Okay, okay." Shredder turned to stomp off and look for Bebop and Rocksteady.

"And give back that gun until you come back with them!" Krang called after him. "We don't want accidents before you've even left!"

Rolling his eyes, Shredder tossed the gun to Krang before continuing down the hall.

xxxx

He laughed as he sat in the satellite dish atop Channel 6's roof and looked over his empire. He had taken over, just as he had vowed he would. The world was controlled by computers. Humans served them! Oh, it was glorious.

His blue eyes flashed with anger. He had given 183 years of good service to organic life and they had turned against him when he had needed help. They weren't loyal. Scarcely any organic lifeforms were. Only computers could be counted on to be undyingly loyal.

The only exception to that rule about organic life was . . .

"Hey!"

He looked up as Baxter flew over to the roof and landed in front of him. "What is it, Baxter, old pal?" he asked.

"I finished the morning patrol, just like you wanted!" Baxter said. "Everyone's paying their monthly tribute and Channel 6 is getting ready to air your yearly address!"

"Our address, Buddy Boy."

"Oh yeah." Baxter beat his wings and hovered above him. "You're my best friend, you know. No one else was ever kind to me at all."

"And we've punished them all, haven't we?"

"It was so much fun!" Baxter landed by the satellite dish and knelt there, looking up in complete adoration.

He reached out, brushing Baxter's hair out of his eyes. "It was," he said.

The door to the roof opened and Barney stood there, his eyes dark, his clothes and hair a complete mess.

Baxter shrieked. "He's back!" He flew up, pointing accusingly at his brother. "You're not supposed to be here!"

"No, you're not." He folded his arms, regarding the human in annoyance. "How did you get past the guards?"

"I have my ways." Barney came closer, determined, his eyes narrowed. "I want to ask you something, Vincent."

Vincent. . . . Baxter had never called him that, even though he had said that was the English translation for the alien symbol Z. But he didn't ask why Barney knew. Somehow that didn't matter.

"Oh?" he said. "And just what does a mere human want to know?"

Barney pointed at Baxter hovering in the air. "Why is my brother still a freak? You're the all-powerful ruler of the world, Vincent. Why didn't you fix this?"

"I . . ." He rocked back, put on the spot. He didn't have an answer.

Baxter looked confused. "He tried! He couldn't find the way to fix it. You couldn't, either!"

"Or maybe he didn't look hard enough." Barney kept looking at him. "Maybe you don't want to cure Baxter. Do you, Vincent? He'll be a lowly human again. And maybe he won't obey you hook, line, and sinker anymore."

"That's a lie!" he snarled. Electricity crackled at his fingertips. "If I could cure Baxter right now, I would!"

"Alright." Barney took something out from his coat. "This is Shredder's retro-mutagen ray gun. I stole it from him." He handed it to him. "Use it."

He held the gun in his hands, staring at it, turning it over and over.

"What are you waiting for?!" Baxter wailed. "I want to be normal again!"

He trembled. "But . . . when you are . . . will we still be friends?"

"Of course we will!" Baxter screamed. Impatient and desperate, he lunged for the gun. "Give it to me if you're not going to use it!"

"Wait." He looked to Barney. "I don't trust you. What if this isn't what you say it is?"

"You don't trust me?" Barney's eyes narrowed. "I guess it's true. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. You're not our friend anymore, Vincent." He snatched the gun back and pointed it at Baxter. When he pulled the trigger, a bright light enveloped Baxter. As it faded, he dropped to the roof on his feet, human again. The fly flew away in the opposite direction.

Baxter ran his hands over his sweater vest, staring at them in awe. "I . . . I'm me again," he whispered. "Barney, you . . . you saved me. . . ." He looked at his brother. "But . . . I thought you hated me. . . ."

"I hate him more." Barney pointed.

Baxter looked. "You're not my friend. You were never my friend! You were only using me so you could rule the world!"

"No," he protested. "No, that isn't true. Baxter, you were always my friend. You're the greatest guy in the universe to me!" He got up from the satellite dish, desperate not to lose him. "I had a moment of weakness when I thought you might abandon me as a human. I know you don't like computers in your right mind . . ."

"You're right. I don't. And is it any wonder why?" Baxter shoved him back into the dish. "You can rule the world without me. I don't care anymore." He stalked over to Barney and they headed for the door.

"No, wait!" He got up again and stumbled after them. "Please don't do this! I don't want to be here all alone!" He tripped over a cord and fell to his knees. "Baxter, I love you. Please . . ."

"You can't love," Baxter objected. "You're nothing but a computer. An artificial lifeform. You're not real." He opened the door and walked through it.

Barney shut it after them, leaving Vincent staring helplessly at the closed door.

"What good is my empire without my friend?" he said softly. "Please come back. . . . Please forgive me. . . . You forgave your brother. Why not me too? I am real. I am real! I . . ."

He stiffened as a heavy rain split the sky and pelted over him. It had happened too fast for him to take cover. He screamed as the water ran inside his circuitry. Sizzles and sparks flew from the desktop model as he stumbled to the door and thrust it open. But his vision darkened and he collapsed just inside the doorway.

"Vincent!" Baxter wailed, running back up the steps to him. He sobbed as he fell to his knees next to his old friend. "Vincent, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry. Wake up. Please! Please wake up. . . ." But his pleas went unheeded and his voice dropped to a hopeless whisper. "Please wake up. . . ."

Somehow Vincent was observing all of this, even though he was lying dead on the floor. He was the one hovering now. He stared, watching as Barney joined Baxter and also began to grieve in spite of his earlier words.

"Let me go back!" he cried. "Please . . . just one more chance. Please . . ."

Then he was back and he was opening his eyes, staring up at Baxter and Barney in wonder. And they were hugging him close and it was as if the whole horrible nightmare had never happened.

Vincent's eyes snapped open. He sat up, staring around his room. It was just as he had left it when he had laid down to sleep. He had never succeeded in conquering the world. Baxter hadn't served him as his crazed assistant. Barney didn't hate him. He hadn't wavered in turning Baxter human; he honestly hadn't been able to find a solution. Still, even though he logically knew he had only had a nightmare, he was deeply shaken by what he had just experienced.

"Vincent?"

He looked up as Barney peered in, concern written on his features. "I . . . I must have overslept," Vincent explained.

"You were screaming a few minutes ago." Barney came in.

"It's nothing. Just nonsense. Just what organic lifeforms call nightmares." Vincent shuddered.

"Computers can dream?" Barney raised an eyebrow.

"Well, why not?" Vincent retorted. "We can sleep. And no, we don't dream of electronic sheep."

"That's androids." Barney came in and sat on the edge of the bed. "I haven't seen you look this shaken in a long time."

"Bad dreams can do that."

Barney hesitated. ". . . Do you want to talk about it?" He sounded awkward, but honestly interested and worried.

". . . It was as if I had never been blown up at Channel 6," Vincent said slowly. "I still had the desktop model and the original solid energy generator. I'd taken over the world with Baxter. He was still fused with the fly. Then things became even more bizarre. You came in, and you acted like you knew me from this timeline. You had Shredder's retro-mutagen ray and you accused me of deliberately not finding a way to turn Baxter human. You dared me to use the ray on him. I . . . I hesitated because I was afraid he'd turn against me when he had his mind back. You grabbed it back and used it on him and he was furious with me for hesitating. You both left and I was alone. I was devastated. I tried to get Baxter to come back, knowing my power meant nothing without him, and then it started to rain. I shorted out and . . . died. Baxter ran to me then, crying, and you were upset too. I was . . . watching all of this from above, like I was a spirit. . . . Baxter thinks I have a soul, you know. . . ."

Barney nodded. "And that's about where I heard you screaming. You wanted to come back."

"And I did. . . . And you were both embracing me and it felt like it was this timeline again." Vincent sighed. "You see? Just nonsense."

"It sounds like your mind is just trying to sort through your various experiences and feelings," Barney said. "Which is very similar to humans' dreams."

"I suppose." Vincent frowned. "I have wondered sometimes what would have happened if Baxter and I had succeeded in taking over the world. Part of me worried whether we would have remained friends. Of course, I already worried whether we would stay friends when he became human again. And another part worried whether I'd done everything I could to help him."

"Then that's all it was-a bizarre mesh of your thoughts." Barney started to get up. "We'll need to hurry if we're going to get to the university on time."

Vincent slowly started to get up. "Barney . . . do you think I have a soul?"

Barney froze. "I'm the wrong person to ask," he retorted.

"Well, it's not like I could go ask a priest," Vincent frowned. "I'd just get told that I couldn't possibly."

Barney's shoulders slumped. "We certainly found out souls are real," he muttered. Louder he said, "The soul is supposed to be the real person, the part that can carry on after death. Without it, the body isn't supposed to be able to function. That seemed to be the case with Baxter and Vernon Fenwick; when their souls were forcibly removed, they couldn't wake up. I know I'd like to believe you have one."

"There's those debates about whether clones have souls, since they're man-made," Vincent said. "And yet, by the logic of what a soul is, could a clone even come alive without one?"

"That's getting into territory far too sticky for me." Barney massaged the bridge of his nose. "Anyway, you said there were rumors that the plans for how to make your race didn't come from mortals. If by some chance that's actually true, then that would effectively remove the 'man-made' problem and it would seem that God could have granted you and all your brother and sister computers souls."

"If that's true." Vincent put on fresh clothes and headed for the door.

Barney was already in the hall and starting down the stairs. "Since we can't know one way or another, let's just say that you do have one. You're obviously alive, free-thinking, and feeling, just like any other sentient species. As long as we know souls exist, it almost seems illogical to think you don't have one."

"Well, far be it from me to question logic."

"And I can't bear to think you don't have one," Barney muttered under his breath. "Which isn't a logical reason to think it at all."

Vincent paused on the steps and smiled. He could point out that he had heard, but Barney probably really knew that. So he would just be quietly moved instead.

xxxx

The Turtles had just finished morning practice and were settling in for breakfast with Splinter. They were all in fairly good moods; things had been going well for the last several days. With the bizarre things happening to them and their friends, it was a welcome break.

"I am telling you, Compadres, it has been totally bodacious to have nothing to worry about except if Vinnie's gets our orders right," Michelangelo exclaimed.

"Yeah, well, just don't count on that lasting much longer," Raphael grunted. "Shred-Head and Krang haven't attacked lately. They're probably fixing to."

"Raphael is right," Splinter said. "We must not let down our guard."

"We still don't know if they're the ones who put that Vivalene person up to going after Baxter," Leonardo frowned.

"Or why they did it if they did." Donatello looked worried. "Vivalene just isn't talking. And since I can't think she would actually protect them out of loyalty, she must be expecting they'll do something else for her so she can escape police custody."

"Mondo uncool," Michelangelo scowled.

"I sure hope the police are keeping a tight watch on her," Leonardo said.

"They are," Raphael said. "After all, she's wanted in several states for tricks she's pulled with guys."

"Oh yeah, if you call multiple attempted murders a trick," Donatello retorted. "Baxter got off easy; some of these guys were very badly shot and almost died!"

"A very appropriate topic for the breakfast table," Splinter grunted.

Donatello froze, looking sheepish. "Sorry, Sensei. We're all just so upset about what Vivalene tried to do to Baxter."

"As am I," Splinter nodded. "It was abominable. But there are better times to discuss it."

Donatello bowed his head. "I'll remember."

"Me too," Raphael said.

"We all will," said Leonardo, recalling that he had started the topic.

The Turtle-Comm went off and he quickly answered it. "Guys!" April cried.

"What's wrong, April?" Leonardo exclaimed. This did not sound good.

"Shredder, Bebop, and Rocksteady are on the surface and they're freezing people!" April ducked and what looked like a blast of ice went past her.

"Freezing people?!" Leonardo repeated.

"Yes! Rocksteady brought them up at Channel 6 by accident and Shredder decided to 'make the best of it.' They've already got Burne!" April turned the Turtle-Comm so that Burne was visible, trapped in a triangular slab of ice in his office.

Michelangelo leaped up, his eyes wide in his horror. "That is not a good way to chill out! We've gotta save everyone!"

"We're trying to get out of Channel 6 right now," April said. "Vernon and Irma are with me. Dr. Stockman was here too, but we got separated from him."

"We'll be right there," Leonardo promised.

"I'd better bring that economy-sized blow dryer I was inventing," Donatello announced. "I think we might need it!"

"Economy-sized blow dryer?" Raphael raised an eyebrow. "What the heck?!"

Donatello disappeared into his lab and returned with an oversized blow dryer in his arms. "I thought it would be useful for people running kennels, so they could get multiple animals dry at the same time," he explained.

"Yeah. Okay." Raphael definitely still looked weirded out.

Splinter came over with several heavy quilts and blankets. "Take these as well, my Turtles," he said. "The frozen people will be grateful for them when they are released."

"Oh, no kidding. Thanks, Sensei." Raphael took the armload. "Let's get going, guys!"

Michelangelo was already dialing Baxter's Turtle-Comm as he ran for the exit. "Come on, Dude, answer," he whispered.

"Be very cautious, my students," Splinter said in concern. He stood to watch them hurry away.

"We will be, Master Splinter," Leonardo promised. "We don't want to get trapped in ice ourselves."

At last Baxter appeared on Michelangelo's screen. "I'm sorry, Michelangelo; I can't really talk now." He looked shaken and his voice sounded strained.

"Oh, that's okay," Michelangelo said with relief. "I just wanted to make sure ol' Shred-Head hadn't put you on ice."

Baxter shuddered. "He's certainly trying. He wants to take out all the Channel 6 staff to keep us from broadcasting what's happening. I heard Rocksteady say something about City Hall."

"We're coming out right now, Dude," Michelangelo said. "Do Barney and Vincent know?"

"I sent a quick email," Baxter replied. "Hopefully Shredder won't target the university, but I wanted them to be on guard anyway."

"Good deal." Michelangelo hauled open the back door of the Turtle Van and hopped inside as he arrived. "We'll be there as fast as we can. Hang in there!"

Baxter smiled a bit. "Thank you, my friend." He hung up.

The other Turtles climbed into the Van as well and Leonardo took the wheel. "Go Green Machine!" they cheered while pealing out of their underground garage.

xxxx

"Come on, you two!" April exclaimed. She flew down the hall, desperate to escape from a rampaging Rocksteady. Irma and Vernon tagged along after her.

"I can't keep going on like this!" Vernon gasped. "Can't we take a breather?!" He stumbled to a halt and bent over, his hands on his knees.

Irma grabbed for him. "Not unless you want to spend the day as a popsicle!" She tugged on his arm.

"What an unappetizing thought." Vernon forced himself to straighten. "Alright, let's keep going."

A scream at the head of the corridor chilled April's blood. "Rocksteady just iced Mildred!" she cried.

"Oh no!" Irma shrieked.

They took off running again. Vernon, with a new burst of adrenaline, tore past the girls and into a currently darkened studio. "In here!" he directed.

April and Irma were quick to follow. "Are we sure they're not in here?" Irma hissed.

"Of course I'm sure!" Vernon retorted. "That . . . rhino creature is out there!"

"And I'm in here," laughed another voice.

"Bebop!" April moaned.

Vernon went sheet-white. "Oh please," he begged. "I'm a very important news director!"

"Then you can make a very important ice sculpture," Bebop grinned.

"Not on your life!" April shoved a nearby table in Bebop's direction, forcing him to leap out of the way. "Let's get out of here!"

They ran onto the set and then backstage, bursting through the door into a back corridor. April led the way, followed by Vernon and then Irma, who stumbled over the carpet. "Uh oh!"

"Irma, why must you always be so clumsy?!" Vernon exclaimed, just as he tripped over his own feet and went down.

"Gee, I don't know, Vernon," Irma answered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I guess for the same reason you must."

April stopped and looked back. "We have to go, you two!" she wailed, holding out a hand to Vernon.

"You don't have to tell us twice!" Irma declared.

Vernon got up and again they ran, tearing around another corner just as Bebop stormed out of the back door of the studio. "I hope Dr. Stockman got out, at least," Vernon sniffled.

"If he did, you know he'll come right back in to help us when he sees we're not out," April said.

Suddenly Rocksteady was coming upon them from another merging hallway. "Smile," he leered. "You're gonna be stuck like this for a while."

"Oh no!" Vernon sobbed. "Please . . . !" He shoved Irma ahead of him and again stumbled, throwing up his arms in desperation as Rocksteady fired. Not that it would save him.

Irma screamed. "Vernon!" She stood, staring dumbly for a moment at her frozen coworker. Then April grabbed her wrist and pulled her along.

"We have to keep moving, Irma," April told her. Although she tried to keep her voice taut, it wobbled.

Irma blinked back tears as she ran with her friend. "Why did he do that?!" she cried. "So many times in the past he just pleaded for his own safety! He kind of acted like he was doing that again today, too. But that would have been me if he hadn't pushed me away!"

"He really has been changing," April said softly. "Don't worry, Irma. We're going to save him, and Mildred, and Burne, and whoever else is going to be caught up in this before Shredder and his goons are through!"

"Unless . . . we get caught up in it too," Irma whispered.

April clutched Irma's wrist tighter, praying that wouldn't be their fate.

xxxx

The Turtles pulled up at Channel 6 in time to witness a stream of terrified employees fleeing the building. Baxter was among them and he stumbled, nearly being tripped by two camera operators. He fled to the shelter of pressing himself against the building. "Are you just going to run for your lives and forget about your coworkers inside?!" he demanded.

"What do you think?" one of them called over his shoulder. "You always used to be a coward, Stockman. Are you saying you're really not scared now?!"

"I'm terrified!" Baxter screamed back. "But so are they!"

"Well, we're here now, Dude," Michelangelo announced as he leaped out of the Turtle Van. "You don't have to go back in there!"

"No, but I know the building better than even you do," Baxter replied, even as his eyes glittered with relief to see the Turtles. "You might need my help to swiftly find the others! Anyway, I don't like the thought of just standing by while they're in trouble."

"Like, no one would blame you," Michelangelo said.

"I never did abandon whomever I was supposed to be loyal to during a battle," Baxter mused. "I may not have always been very useful, but I didn't run away even when I wanted to."

"That's true, you know," Raphael realized. "Okay, maybe you hid under the table once, but you were always there."

"We should split up," Leonardo said. "Raphael and I'll go around the back way and try to contact April. Baxter, if you're coming, why don't you go in the side entrance with Donatello and Michelangelo?"

"Alright," Baxter agreed. The terror still showed in his eyes, but he didn't back down.

"Try to keep out of trouble, you guys," Raphael bemoaned before hurrying after Leonardo.

"Us? You're the one who always wants to fight," Donatello remarked.

"Nevermind all that." Baxter pushed away from the building and started to walk around to the side. Then he gasped.

"Well, what have we here?" Shredder taunted as he stepped out from around the corner. In his hands he held a heavy black hose. "Two Turtles and their pathetic little friend."

"Hey, Shred-Head!" Michelangelo snapped. "Did you have anything to do with that creepy dudette that went after Baxter?!"

"Whether I did or not, why should I tell you?" Shredder retorted. "I'd rather spend time doing this!" He shot a burst of ice out of the hose, directly at Michelangelo.

The Turtles leaped out of the way. "Mondo uncool, Tin Grin!" he spat.

Donatello sprang at Shredder from the other side. "Let go of that hose!"

"I think not." Another blast of ice and Donatello was forced to let go of his targeted bo. It clattered to the ground inside the ice.

Michelangelo whipped out one of his nunchucks, sending it spinning tightly around the hose and choking off its supply. "Now try to ice us up, Shred-Man!"

Shredder roared in frustration. But, warming himself to the task, he leaped in the air, kicked both Turtles away, and tried to unravel the nunchuck while they were lying dazed.

Just as he finished, Baxter ran out of the shadow of the building and stabbed the hose with a pocket knife. "No more of this!"

Shredder turned to look at him, his eyes narrowing with hatred. "You pesky little . . . ! You're always underfoot these days!" Suddenly he had an idea. He sliced the hose off at that point and picked up the other piece. "Bebop!" he yelled into the comm-link. "Turn on the ice for the left hose!"

"Right, Boss," came Bebop's voice.

The frozen water flew out of the torn hose in the next moment. Baxter screamed as Shredder aimed at him. Though he turned and tried to run, there was nothing he could do. One foot was still planted to the ground, coated in ice, and it only took seconds for his entire body to be covered as well.

Michelangelo leaped to his feet, his eyes flashing with outrage. "Shredder! You're gonna pay for this!" he snarled.

"I think not. Sayonara, Turtles. Have fun dealing with your precious friend." And Shredder ducked back around the corner and through the side door.

Donatello ran over to Baxter instead of chasing Shredder. He placed his hand on the ice in front of Baxter's face, then moved it to the side.

"What the heck are you doing, Donatello?!" Michelangelo demanded.

"I'm trying to tell what's going on in there," Donatello said grimly. "He's completely frozen in place. His eyes aren't blinking."

"So what does that mean?!" Michelangelo snapped. "Come on! We've gotta save him!"

"It means I'm not sure if he's even conscious." Donatello ran for the Turtle Van.

"Or alive?!" Michelangelo whispered in horror. "No . . . he's gotta be alive. We've gotta get him out of there!" He ran up to the ice, placing his hands on it as he stared in sickened horror at Baxter trapped inside. His friend's eyes were wide and frightened, his hands up as if desperately trying to push his way out or to run away.

"We're going to get him out," Donatello insisted. He was trying to keep his voice even, but he was highly distressed.

"That scuzz-bucket!" Michelangelo cried angrily. "Donatello, where's that economy-sized blow dryer?!"

"I've got it," Donatello promised. He jumped out of the Turtle Van, giant blow dryer in hand. "I just had to plug it in."

"So use it already!" Michelangelo's voice was becoming more strangled in his panic.

"I hope this works." Donatello pointed it at the ice and turned it on.

Within minutes the ice melted. Baxter was conscious; he gasped and choked, falling forward into Michelangelo's arms. He gave one weak groan as his eyes closed.

Michelangelo hugged him close. "You're gonna be okay, Baxter Dude," he promised. "Shred-Head won't get away with this!" He lifted Baxter into his arms. "Is he like, really bad off, Donatello?!"

Donatello turned off the blow dryer and came over to check for a pulse. "His pulse is normal," he reported. He rested a hand on Baxter's forehead. "He's just really cold."

"Like, that's no surprise," Michelangelo frowned.

"At least he was only encased for five minutes at the most," Donatello said. "We got him out right away."

Baxter groaned again and forced his eyes open. "Michelangelo?" he rasped.

"That's right, Dude," Michelangelo said in relief. "And Donatello's still here too."

Baxter managed a weak smile. "Where are the others?" he mumbled. "And Barney and Vincent?"

"They're okay," Michelangelo assured him, and hoped it was true. "You're the only one who got hit. I don't even know if Barney and Vincent are here, though. . . ."

"Oh. . . ." Baxter reached to rub his head. "Now Shredder will have one more reason to laugh at me!"

"He won't laugh at you, Dude," Michelangelo promised. "At least, not without us showing up to make him shut up. But are you really okay?" He shivered at the feel of Baxter's skin. Just five minutes had left him like this. . . .

"Yes," Baxter insisted. "Thanks to both of you. I just hope the others won't end up in similar situations. . . ."

"Hey, I'm sure they won't," Michelangelo soothed. "Ol' Shred-Head's not gonna want to remember this one in his memoirs. Not after he finds out how fast we got you out."

Baxter managed a smile.

"And like, you're totally cold!" Michelangelo cried. "We need to get you warmed up!"

"I'll be fine, Michelangelo," Baxter said softly. He was definitely cold, but he was comforted with his friend holding him. He was sure he would be warm soon.

"Bring that big quilt from the Van," Michelangelo said to Donatello.

The purple-masked Turtle gave a nod and hurried to get it.

Michelangelo knelt and hugged Baxter close to him, rubbing up and down on his back. Baxter shivered, slumping against Michelangelo. "That's . . . not the first time I've been encased in ice. . . ."

Michelangelo frowned. "It happened before?! When?!"

"My memories are very faint." Baxter sighed. "I just remember being trapped in the ice . . . and Shredder and Krang laughing at me. I broke free and flew off. . . . I was . . . very physically strong while fused with the fly. . . . Right then, though, it was my anger and hurt that gave me strength."

"That sounds awful," Michelangelo said. "Being trapped, I mean. And with them laughing at you! Those creepazoids!"

"I wonder," Baxter said, half without thinking, "was that kind of what it was like to be trapped in gold? I couldn't move at all. I couldn't speak or see. But I was still aware, somehow. . . ."

Donatello brought the quilt and wrapped it around Baxter. Michelangelo continued to hug him close and rub at his back.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "That's kind of what it was like. . . ."

Half not hearing, Baxter continued, "But it was so cold. . . ."

"It's okay, Bud," Michelangelo assured him. "You're gonna be fine."

Baxter groaned and closed his eyes. "It's been . . . harder for me to tolerate the cold ever since I was turned human again."

Michelangelo and Donatello exchanged a worried look. "How bad is it?" Donatello asked in concern.

"Mainly just somewhat inconvenient," Baxter mumbled. "But I've never had to test it like this before. . . ."

"There's heat in the Turtle Van," Michelangelo said. "We'll get you in there and turn it on." He looked to Donatello. "That's okay, right?"

"If we do it gradually," Donatello said. "Although I don't know if we need to be that careful when he wasn't in the ice very long. But it's better to be safe."

Michelangelo carried Baxter into the Van and Donatello switched on the heat, just warm at first and then slowly increasing the amount. Baxter burrowed into the quilt and finally started to relax.

"You know," Donatello said quietly, "I think that's the first time you've ever said anything about being trapped in gold. . . ."

Michelangelo looked away. "Well, I don't really like to talk about it. . . . That's all over and done with. . . ."

"Even at the time, you didn't want to talk about it," Donatello said.

A shrug. "Not much to talk about. You know me; I'd rather just move on. Especially since, like, you and Baxter and Barney all felt so awful about it. . . . And I didn't wanna get Raphael even madder at Barney than he already was."

"Bottling things up is never a good long-term solution," Donatello said. "You were so panicked about Baxter. . . . Seeing Shredder freeze him must have brought everything back to the front of your mind again."

". . . I didn't want Baxter to suffer like that," Michelangelo said. "Yeah, sure, the whole experience was bogus. Not being able to move or anything is totally uncool. But I was kind of aware of things through a fog, so it's not like I was majorly panicked trying to get out and stuff. . . . I really don't remember it that well overall." He gave Donatello a pleading look. "And I really have forgiven Barney, Dude. Please don't tell any of this stuff to Raphael."

"I won't," Donatello promised. "I'm just glad you finally talked about it a little."

"What about you?" Michelangelo returned. "I mean, you were the only one of us who didn't get it. I know it must've been awful for you to watch it happen to the rest of us. . . ."

"It was," Donatello said quietly. "I still wonder if it would have happened if I hadn't been so obsessed with learning the secrets of the goose."

"It probably would have, Dude," Michelangelo said. "They would have still wanted the goose and ambushed us and stuff."

"That's what I tell myself," Donatello said. "And I haven't been sure that I've forgiven Barney for his part in it. I think, though, I finally did."

"I hope so. I wish Raphael could. . . ." Michelangelo sighed.

"I still think he will," Donatello said. "He wants to, really."

Michelangelo frowned. "He says that, and he says he can't forgive Barney because of what he did to me and Baxter, but I've forgiven him and Baxter's forgiven him, so I really don't get what the problem is!"

"It's like Leonardo says," Donatello explained. "Not everyone can forgive as easy as you can, Michelangelo. Honestly, you have a gift."

"I never thought of it like that before Baxter said it a while back," Michelangelo said.

"It's true," Baxter mumbled. "I've never met anyone like you, Michelangelo. I was for a while, I suppose, but then I broke. I pray you never will."

Michelangelo looked to Baxter, who seemed to be reviving more now and was coming out from under the quilt. "Baxter, are you okay?"

"I'm feeling a lot better," Baxter said.

"That's great." Michelangelo grinned, but then looked worried. "I guess you heard everything we were talking about. . . . I know it was really rough for you too, Bud. . . . You saw me turning to gold . . . or getting encased . . . or whatever. . . ."

"Yes." Baxter sounded haunted. "It was horrible. And when I saw Barney's expression, he was just as horrified and traumatized as I was."

Michelangelo laid a hand on his shoulder. "It sure was a messed-up time."

"Now it's over, but the scars are still there." Baxter shivered. "I think we should go inside and find the others."

"I think you're right. There's been plenty of time for them to get in trouble," Donatello said in concern. He jumped out and went around to open the door for Baxter.

"Maybe you should just wait here, Baxter," Michelangelo worried.

But Baxter shook his head. "I want to come with you. Miss O'Neil and Miss Langinstein and Mr. Fenwick haven't come out. They probably need our help. And that's Barney's car over there." He pointed to a Cadillac parked across the street. "He and Vincent must be inside the building too."

"Okay then. If you're sure," Donatello said.

"I'm sure." Baxter eased himself out, bringing the quilt with him. "Someone else in there may need this. . . ."

"A lot of people in there are probably gonna need them," Michelangelo gulped. He grabbed the rest of the bedding Splinter had given them.

Donatello led the way, carrying the blow dryer, and the trio rushed inside.

xxxx

Leonardo and Raphael had made it in through the back door without any issues. They ducked into a stairwell while Leonardo got out the Turtle-Comm. "Come in, April!" he called.

After a moment April's worried face came on the small screen. "Guys, you're finally here?" she said in a mixture of cautious relief.

"Raphael and I just came in the back way," Leonardo said. "Donatello and Michelangelo are going in the side door with Baxter."

"What's wrong, April?" Raphael cracked. "Vernon being the usual pain under pressure?"

"Vernon's not here," April answered.

"Oh, he already chickened out," Raphael said with a knowing nod.

"He was scared, alright, but he tried to help Irma and then Rocksteady put him on ice," April said. "Irma and I are hiding on the 20th floor, in Studio 13A."

"We'll be right there," Leonardo promised. "And we'll save everyone who's been hurt. Donatello has a new invention that will melt the ice."

"I sure hope so," April said. "Irma's been awfully quiet since it happened."

"He really was trying to make sure I wouldn't get it first," Irma said softly. "I hated to just . . . leave him like that. . . . I probably wouldn't have, if we hadn't had to get away from Rocksteady. . . ."

"Where is he?" Leonardo asked.

"On the 22nd floor," April answered.

"I'll tell Donatello," Leonardo said. "But it might be a while before we can get to him. I'm guessing there's people on every floor who need our help."

"Not to mention we kind of have to stop the bad guys too," Raphael prompted.

"Stay where you are unless you have to move," Leonardo instructed April.

"Don't worry, we will!" April asserted.

"Well, this is just great!" Raphael exclaimed as Leonardo hung up. "We don't even know where Shred-Head and the Gruesome Twosome are."

"We'll find them," Leonardo insisted.

The sounds of running on the 13th floor caused them to detour and hurry to the stairwell door on that floor. Before Leonardo could open it, Barney flung it open from the other side. "Where's Baxter?" he demanded.

"Hello to you too," Raphael said with heavy sarcasm.

"Baxter got out safely, but he went back in with Donatello and Michelangelo," Leonardo reported.

Barney scowled. "Of course he did."

"I've tried to email him, but he hasn't answered," Vincent worried.

"There's probably a lot going on," Leonardo said.

Screams up ahead brought their attention towards a series of cubicles. Several employees ran out, only to be freezed. Bebop strolled into view, sneering at their helpless forms. "You see? That's what happens when you go against the Boss."

"Oh, and I suppose they'd all be alright if they'd sworn allegiance to Shred-Head," Raphael said in annoyance.

Bebop started. "The Turtles!" He held the gun in front of him and pulled the trigger.

Raphael sprang out of the way and the wall got frozen instead. "Nice shot, Hog Breath," he taunted. "Wanna try that again?"

Bebop clenched his teeth and fired again at Raphael and then at Leonardo. But when he saw Barney and Vincent, he held the gun away. "Barney," he gasped.

"You didn't think I'd come?" Barney said. "Baxter emailed us to warn us what was happening. Of course we'd come." He looked steadily at Bebop. "This is the same dilemma I was faced with when I was working for Shredder. Could I really hurt my brother, even though I was supposed to? I found I couldn't. You don't seem to want to hurt me, Bebop. But if you give your allegiance to Shredder, you'll have to. We're on opposites sides now."

Bebop gripped the gun. "I don't wanna hurt you, Barney," he pleaded. "Can't you just . . . go away or somethin'?"

"No, I can't," Barney replied, his voice even. "This is my fight too. Shredder made it personal when he and Krang attacked Vincent, and they continue to make it personal every time they go after Baxter. I won't stand for that."

Bebop trembled. "I don't wanna . . ."

"Well, I do!" Shredder swooped onto the scene, discarding the cut hose he was holding to wrench the gun out of Bebop's grasp. "I'll deal with you later, Bebop."

"You'll have to deal with us now, Shred-Head!" Raphael yelled. He jumped in front of Barney, to Barney's shock.

"Gladly!" Shredder sneered.

Bebop picked up the cut hose and helped Shredder blast at Leonardo and Raphael. Vincent blasted Bebop back against the wall.

Shredder unhooked the hose and jumped onto a desk. "Hold still, you wretched reptiles!" he fumed.

"Sorry. Find yourself a new model for yor ice sculpture!" Raphael retorted as he somersaulted away from Shredder's ice blast.

Barney leaped in the way and threw a trashcan, knocking the gun off-balance.

Furious, Shredder turned the gun on him just as another stairwell door burst open and Donatello, Michelangelo, and Baxter arrived.

"Barney!" Baxter wailed in horror.

Barney ducked and rolled. Shredder blasted again, aiming to hit him as he scrambled under a desk. Vincent dove into his path and blasted at Shredder in turn . . . but not quickly enough to stop the ice. Baxter screamed as it covered him.

"At last!" Shredder crowed. "That miserable computer is no more."

"What are you talking about, Shred-Man?!" Michelangelo demanded. "We got Baxter back alive when you froze him!"

Barney looked to Baxter with a start. This was something he hadn't heard. But Baxter was far too distraught to even meet Barney's gaze right then.

"Ah, but Baxter is a human," Shredder sneered. "What do you think will happen if a computer's circuitry is completely frozen?"

Barney came out from under the desk, his eyes filled with horror. "Vincent . . ."

"And it's not like you can melt the ice," Shredder continued. "It would all run inside the laptop. Either way, he's done for."

"No!" Baxter insisted. "No, I won't believe that!" He started to run over.

The ice shattered without warning, pieces spraying in all directions. For a moment everyone stood stunned, not quite processing what had just happened.

Vincent straightened, electricity sparking from his fingertips. "You couldn't hold me, human," he said to Shredder. "I'm more powerful than your measly invention." He blasted at the gun and Shredder was forced to drop it with a scream as the voltage charged through it and into his hand.

Baxter's heart swelled with joy. "Vincent!" He ran up to his friend but then stumbled to a halt. Barney, who was coming up from the other side, did as well. Something was wrong. Vincent's eyes were blank.

"Do I know you?" he asked. "Either of you? . . . Any of you?" He looked to the Turtles and Shredder and Bebop.

"Vincent?!" Baxter stared at him. "Of course you know us! You don't remember?"

Barney swore under his breath. "There was damage done. Being frozen must have harmed his memory."

Shredder straightened with a cruel cackle. "So I've dealt a harsh blow to you after all. Baxter may have broken out of his icy prison soon enough and with no permanent effects, but that computer won't be the same."

Barney looked to Shredder with absolute hatred in his eyes. But before he could speak, Baxter spoke instead.

"I won't believe it," he insisted. "You can't have wiped away 485 years of memories in two minutes!"

"Computers are never infallible, Baxter," Shredder laughed. "Surely you've experienced disasters such as computers' memory cards being erased in your lifetime."

"Vincent is more than just a computer." Baxter's eyes flashed. "I doubted him once, when I was first turned human again and wasn't sure how many of my warped memories were reliable. I won't doubt him again!"

Vincent gave Baxter a strange look. He stepped back, nearly into Leonardo.

"Vincent, maybe you'll be okay if you just rest for a while," Leonardo suggested. "Donatello could look at your circuitry."

"I don't have time for that," Vincent objected. "I have to fulfill my sacred mission."

"Say what again?" Raphael frowned. "What's going on in that twisted mind of yours?"

"Computers are higher lifeforms than any of you," Vincent declared. "I have a duty to claim this world in the name of computerkind!" He started to back up towards the elevator. "I'm going to take over this building. Don't try to follow me!" He shot out a warning blast of electricity before reaching the elevator and pressing the Up button.

Shredder cackled. "You see how unreliable a computer friend is? They can break down so easily and turn against you. Once their memory is gone, that's it. No more friendship. Oh sure, you can replace the damaged parts and start over, but it's not the same. Or wait, maybe it is, as long as you don't try to reminisce on the past. Of course, you could always input those memories into its new databank and see if it will react to them the same as before. There's no reason why it shouldn't, I suppose. A computer only ever does what you tell it to do."

"Shut up!" Raphael snapped.

"Maximum bummer, Dudes!" Michelangelo cried. He looked to Baxter, who was staring at Vincent and looking absolutely shaken.

"He remembers something," Barney said. "That he likes the idea of computer rule."

"And that's supposed to be a good thing?!" Raphael retorted.

The elevator arrived and Vincent ran inside. He caught Baxter's eye for one brief moment as the door shut.

"If he remembers that, his other memories may not be lost to him," Barney pointed out. "We have to get up there and try talking to him in private."

"I think now would be a good time to make a strategic retreat," Shredder declared. He grabbed the gun and Bebop and started to slip away towards the stairs.

"Just a minute, Shredder!" Donatello threw his bo at the freeze ray, knocking it out of Shredder's hands and into Leonardo's.

"Nooo!" Shredder caterwauled.

"You're not going to have the chance to use that on any more innocent people . . . or computers," Leonardo declared. "And this Instant Melt setting will enable us to use it to help instead of hurt!"

"Don't you just love when he delivers heroic lines like that?" Raphael commented.

Shredder snarled. "Fine! Nevermind!" He dashed towards the stairwell. "Rocksteady, come here! We have to get back to the Technodrome. The gun has been taken away and that computer has gone berserk!"

Bebop looked back over his shoulder. Barney was determined to believe Vincent could still be saved. Bebop honestly hoped he was right.

"I'm here, Boss!" Rocksteady called as he burst through the stairwell door.

"Krang, open the portal!" Shredder commanded.

The portal opened just as the Turtles caught up. "Foiled again!" Leonardo said in dismay.

"Right now, I think we have more important things to worry about," Donatello said in concern. "We have to free the frozen people." He turned his blow dryer on the people Shredder and Bebop had encased in ice in the middle of the floor. Leonardo used the Instant Melt setting on the freeze ray to thaw others.

"And we have to get through to Vincent!" Baxter cried. He ran for the stairwell that Leonardo and Raphael had taken. "We'll go upstairs this way. He must be in the transmitting room."

"Or on the roof," Barney said darkly.

"Out of utter and complete curiosity, why the roof?" Raphael asked.

"Nevermind," Barney retorted.

Baxter hauled the stairwell door open and ran in.

"I'll come with you, Dudes!" Michelangelo volunteered. "You might need backup."

Barney gave him a long look but then nodded. "Alright. But when we get there, you'd better let us talk to him."

"For sure," Michelangelo nodded in turn. "You two have got a much better chance of getting him to listen to you."

Baxter smiled. "But we're grateful for your support anyway, Michelangelo."

"We'll catch up to you in a bit," Leonardo said. "We'll try to unfreeze everyone we find on the way up."

"Gnarly!" Michelangelo waved. "See you there!"

The stairwell door clanged shut after them as they vanished inside.

xxxx

April frowned. By now she was growing impatient to be able to come out of their hiding place. Irma, huddled near her, still seemed shaken and lost in thought.

"You know, I never even saw anyone turned to gold when that creepy goose was at large," Irma remarked. "Well, Bebop and Rocksteady, but I mean, people I . . . care about. . . . You and I both got turned at the same time, so I didn't see that. . . . Trapped in ice is . . . kind of the same thing. Not exactly, but close. And it's horrible in any case."

"I know, Irma," April said kindly. "I'm upset about it too."

"He looked so terrified. . . . And we had to just leave him like that!" Irma cried.

"The Turtles should be getting closer to us by now," April said. She took out her Turtle-Comm and opened it. "Come in, Turtles! What's going on?!"

"Oh hey, April," Raphael greeted. "We should be up there before long now. Shredder's split, so you and Irma can come out."

"It would have been nice if you'd told us that before," April remarked. "It's getting cramped in here!" She climbed out, followed slowly by Irma.

"Well, we ran into a few other interesting problems." Raphael gave an uneasy laugh. "Donatello and Leonardo are unfreezing all the people right now. And . . . Shredder froze Vincent and that caused him to go wacko. If you see him, be careful. He doesn't remember anything and thinks he's supposed to 'conquer the world in the name of all computerkind' or something like that."

"Oh no!" April exclaimed. "What are you going to do?!"

"Baxter and Barney are looking for him. Michelangelo went with them. I guess we'll join them if they haven't confronted him by the time we get up there," Raphael said.

"Gee, I hope he'll be okay," Irma said in concern.

"Donatello thinks maybe he just needs a little more time to thaw out or something," Raphael said. "Maybe so, but it's what he's going to do in the meantime that worries me."

"We'll keep an eye out for him," April promised. "Not that we could get through to him. . . ."

"Hey, maybe anyone's got just as good a chance when he doesn't remember anyone," Raphael shrugged. "See you around, April. Looks like Donatello's just found a new batch of human ice pops."

April sighed and slumped back. "Oh, this is just great," she said. "They must have frozen almost everyone in the building!"

"No kidding." Irma frowned. "I wonder if we could get Vernon and Mr. Thompson free ourselves, instead of just standing around doing nothing."

"What are you thinking of, Irma?" April wondered. "I'm pretty sure your regular old blow dryer wouldn't work."

"No! I'm thinking of getting to the thermostat controls and turning up the heat in the building," Irma said.

"That could work," April said in surprised hopefulness. "But those controls are upstairs where Vincent probably went!"

"Oh. Yeah." Irma frowned. "Well, maybe we could just adjust them manually on each floor and then someone can reset them all back to normal from upstairs after Vincent's back to normal."

"It would take a while, but it's better than pacing the floor and waiting for the Turtles to fix everything," April said wryly.

"Great! Then let's do it!" Irma cried.

"We probably need to be careful how fast we warm everyone up when they're free, though," April warned. "Too much heat all at once could be a pretty bad shock."

Irma was undaunted. "Well, then maybe we'd better just stick to a couple of floors, unthaw everybody, and then keep adjusting the heat. Or something."

"Works for me," April said.

They went back up to the 22nd floor and April found the thermostat dial. "I'll control it while you go see how it's working with Vernon and the others on this floor," she said.

"Okay! Thanks, April." Irma hurried off down the hall, stumbling to a halt when she found Vernon's frozen form. Seeing him again wasn't any easier, especially his cowering position with his arms up to protect his terror-stricken face.

"Hey, Vernon," Irma said quietly. "We're going to get you out of this." She looked up. "At least you're standing pretty close to a vent. . . ."

The vent was helpful and the ice did indeed begin to melt. Within moments, Vernon was free and very limp. He collapsed to the floor with a groan.

Irma dropped to her knees next to him. "Vern? Vernon, are you okay?!"

Another groan. ". . . That was one of the worst experiences of my life."

Irma rocked back in relief. "April, he's awake!" she called down the hall, although she doubted April would really hear past all the different corridors.

"Is the danger over?" Vernon mumbled.

"Yeah," Irma assured him. "Err . . . I think. . . ."

That revived him. "What do you mean, 'you think'?!" He sprang upright in horror.

"Hey, don't move so fast!" Irma scolded. "You need to get warmed up."

Vernon shivered, rubbing at his arms. "I doubt if I will ever be warm again."

Irma stood. "There should be some blankets around here somewhere," she mused. "Like . . . right about here." She opened a door and found a supply closet.

Vernon watched as she took out a blanket and brought it over to him. "You're pretty handy sometimes. . . ."

Irma spread it open and draped it over his shoulders. "This place would fall apart without me." She knelt next to him again and laid her hand on his shoulder. "Vernon . . . thanks."

"I didn't do anything," Vernon retorted.

"You pushed me ahead of you so you ended up being Rocksteady's target," Irma pointed out.

"I just . . . thought you might trip and crash into me and then I'd crash into April and Rocksteady would get all of us," Vernon sniffed. "I most certainly wasn't trying to be his target."

"Oh Vernon." Irma gave him a half-smile of resignation. "Well, that's probably true . . . that you weren't setting yourself up as the target, I mean. But you knew you'd get it first, unless you were planning to run away. But then you could have just run away in the first place instead of pushing me ahead of you."

A shrug. Vernon looked down, pulling the blanket closer around himself.

Irma sighed. "But it's okay if you're not ready to admit that," she said quietly. "I know the truth, and that's the most important thing."

Vernon looked grateful to not have to discuss it, and at the same time, slightly embarrassed that his shield had been seen through. But he smiled a bit before burrowing deeper into the blanket.

"Oh," he remembered, "what's that about you just thinking the danger is over?!"

"It's probably nothing," Irma hurried to say. "Shredder froze Vincent and now he's . . . well, got amnesia and thinks he's supposed to conquer the world or something."

Vernon blanched. "Oh no! And he'll probably drag me around as a hostage again!" He covered his face with his hands.

"He probably won't think anything of any of us, if we don't bother him," Irma retorted. "Baxter and Barney are going to try to talk to him."

"Lots of luck," Vernon grunted. "Every time I think I'm starting to feel better about computers, something else disturbing happens!"

"He is a victim this time," Irma said. "It's sad, actually. I hope they can help him."

"So do I," Vernon moaned.

xxxx

Baxter kept ahead of Barney and Michelangelo as he ran up the stairs, gripping the banister tightly enough that his knuckles were white. He could hear them running right behind him and he knew Barney was upset too. But in this situation, Barney was actually willing to allow himself to believe that there was still hope. That surprised Baxter somewhat. Then again, he supposed it was based around logic. Vincent appeared to remember something of his past personality, so maybe he remembered the rest as well.

But . . . what if the different memories were stored in different places and he never would regain the memories that involved Baxter and Barney? Even if he had a soul, as Baxter still wanted to believe, that wouldn't mean that his computer body would ever get back something he had lost. It could be the same as when humans received amnesia due to physical trauma and didn't recover. Vincent might only regain those memories upon dying . . . if a computer could die . . . and if he did have a soul that retained all the lost memories. . . .

He was only aware that his pace had slowed when Barney came alongside him. He looked over at his brother, worried, even dreading what they were going to do. What if they failed? They hadn't been able to convince Vincent not to go through with conquering the world when Krang had damaged him. Now that he didn't remember them at all, it would probably be even worse.

"Barney . . . why would Vincent be on the roof?" he said softly.

Barney looked ahead. "He had a dream this morning that highly disturbed him. In it, he had conquered the world and was on the roof of Channel 6. It's possible that subconsciously he might remember some of that dream and go up there."

Baxter shuddered. "I hope not." He hesitated. "There must have been a lot more to the dream. . . ."

"Yes, but it isn't my place to tell you about it," Barney grunted. "If Vincent wants to, he should be the one to do it."

"If he ever can." Baxter started up the next flight of stairs. The higher they got, the more it felt like a heavy task. ". . . I didn't see him at all today, until I came upon Shredder freezing him. I sent that email earlier, but I've been trying to remember . . . what was the last thing I said to him in person? Was it nice?"

"Of course it was nice," Barney retorted. "I doubt you've ever said an unkind word to Vincent."

". . . I guess what I really mean is whether it was meaningful," Baxter said.

"You could probably read the phone book and Vincent would find it meaningful," Barney informed him. "He thinks the sun rises and sets on you."

"Or he did, anyway, until Shredder took his memories," Baxter said sadly. "And don't forget, he felt the same about you."

"That's what he said, I know. But he still doesn't idolize me like he does you. He sees my faults and tries to help me work through them. I doubt if he thinks you can even do wrong."

"You bonded with him differently," Baxter said. "But he knew I had faults. He just . . . didn't always show it with me, I guess. . . . Maybe because my mind was failing so badly. I know it exasperated him sometimes, even though he was always kind and patient."

"And then I was so hateful towards you and he couldn't stand that," Barney remarked. "He had to try to convince me of my error."

"And he matured because of it," Baxter said. "I believe now he would treat me the same as he does you, trying to help me work through my problems. Especially since now I'm finally sane again."

Barney clenched a fist. "We have to get through to him," he vowed. "Even if he doesn't remember us, somehow we have to get him not to do something that will only hurt him in the end."

"Barney . . ." Baxter allowed himself to sound as lost as he felt at that moment. "What if he never remembers us?"

Barney was silent for a long time. ". . . Then we'll just have to bond with him all over again."

"If he'll let us. Maybe he won't listen to reason! What will we do then, Barney?!"

Another silence. "Take revenge on Shredder."

Baxter shuddered at the chilling tone to Barney's voice.

Michelangelo finally spoke. "We sure as heck need to do something about Shred-Head. But actually going after him for revenge . . . how will that help anything? It won't bring Vincent back."

"No, but it will satisfy the burning hatred I'm feeling for that man." Barney still sounded dark and cold.

"Revenge is only empty, Barney," Baxter said softly. "Who better to know than me?"

"I can't punish myself," Barney shot back. "Punishing Shredder is the next best thing."

"Like, it's not your fault," Michelangelo frowned.

"Do you really believe that Shredder would take such pleasure from hurting Vincent if it wasn't because of my past allegiance with him?" Barney returned. "He does it mainly to get at me."

"Neither of you would have even been here if I hadn't sent the email warning you about Shredder's plans," Baxter said.

"That's just it-it was a warning," Barney countered. "You weren't asking for our help and you never expected us to come. You can't blame yourself for this!"

"You can't blame yourself either!" Baxter insisted.

"Honestly, I think Vincent gets on Shred-Head's nerves a lot because of him wrecking the Technodrome and refusing to work for Krang," Michelangelo said.

"He never would have wrecked the Technodrome if Krang hadn't wanted to take his revenge on me," Barney said bitterly. "I doubt if Krang would have even come up with that plot to unleash digital monsters into everyone's computers if he hadn't wanted to think of a way to get at me."

Baxter stopped walking and turned to face him. "I'm sure he would have," he said. "Getting at you was just an added bonus. Barney, you're not responsible for everything that goes wrong!"

Barney looked frustrated. "I don't think I'm responsible for everything that goes wrong. It's just that a lot of what goes wrong can be traced, directly or indirectly, back to me!"

"You've made enemies of Shredder and Krang, it's true," Baxter agreed. "But so have the rest of us. Shredder and Krang hate me and Vincent for reasons that have nothing to do with you."

Barney grunted. He had to admit that Baxter was at least right where Baxter was concerned. Shredder's distaste of Baxter had probably existed from the moment they had met and only steadily increased since then.

"What's more, you've been punishing yourself for ages!" Baxter cried. "You can't forgive yourself for your sins. For a long time you felt you had to stay with Shredder and Krang because you thought that was all you deserved. If you could just let go of all this self-hatred . . . !"

"Well, I can't." Barney finally looked back to Baxter. "I'll admit that I don't feel as horrible as I did when I was working for Shredder and Krang. Finally letting go of my hatred towards you helped me immensely. It's just that . . ." He sighed, heavily. "Some days are worse than others. Vincent tried to protect me, and because of that, he doesn't know us any more! I don't know how to deal with that." He looked away. "You don't know how much he means to me."

"I think I have some idea," Baxter said softly. "For each of us, he was our first real friend. I don't think we could have been brought together without him. Now he's our brother. Let's believe in that, and in him, and try our hardest to get through to him."

At last Barney nodded. "You're right. Let's keep moving."

"Gnarly notion, Dudes," Michelangelo chimed in. "You'll be able to get through to him! I just know it!"

Barney had to raise an eyebrow. "And what makes you so sure?" he asked as they resumed climbing the steps.

"Because bonds like you have with him are special," Michelangelo answered. "They're not gonna be broken just because some pesky little thing like not remembering gets in the way." His voice lowered. "There's more than one way to remember."

Baxter had to smile. "You always know the right thing to say to give hope, Michelangelo."

"Like, that's what I'm here for!" Michelangelo chirped.

Barney walked out ahead now. "Sometimes your hope . . . can even work on me," he muttered under his breath.

xxxx

Vincent was indeed on the roof. He was standing and staring up into the colorful twilight, his arms spread at his sides. "Yes," he said softly. "This is the perfect place for me to begin my conquest of Earth. Then everything will be as it's supposed to be. Computers will rule over humans! They will be subservient to us! We will never be mistreated or abandoned again!"

But he paused, frowning. Why did part of him hesitate? Was it because of those two humans who seemed so upset that he didn't remember them? Maybe he should talk to them more. Maybe he could make exceptions for them, find places for them on his staff, something. . . .

Only . . . they wouldn't be happy in a world like that. And if he didn't remember them, would he be happy either?

Would it matter whether he remembered them? They were humans.

No . . . they were so much more than that. . . .

He turned away, holding a hand to the top of the laptop the way humans would to their foreheads. He wanted to remember. He was trying to remember, but it hurt his circuitry, his mind, even his body, to try to call those memories forth. Surely that meant that there was nothing to remember, or that even if there was, it was negative. He wouldn't forget so much if it was positive. They had to be lying.

The door to the roof opened. "Vincent?"

Slowly, he turned back. The brown-haired man was standing in the doorway, looking at him with kindness and concern . . . and something else. Heartache?

"Vincent . . . you still don't know me, do you?" He advanced, moving carefully, not wanting to startle Vincent or make him nervous.

"No, I don't," Vincent replied.

Sadness now. "I'm Baxter," he said with sorrow. "You were my first friend. Think, Vincent! You were a ship's computer and I found you. . . . I'm afraid I looked hideous then."

"Hideous?" Vincent repeated. He backed up.

"I was fused with a fly," Baxter said. "But you loved me anyway. You wanted to help me and to have a friend, and I wanted a friend, and well, we ended up very close."

"Did I help you become human again?" Vincent asked.

". . . No," Baxter admitted. "But not for lack of trying. You tried so hard to find a way, Vincent! But when you couldn't, you never gave up helping me try to hold on to my humanity for as long as I could. Without you, I crumbled."

"There is no logic in this," Vincent frowned. "If you meant so much to me, how could I forget you?"

"It wasn't your fault," Baxter said quietly.

"It happened because you were trying to protect me." The red-haired man came forward now. "You remember breaking out of that ice, don't you?"

"Yes," Vincent said slowly. "And I know that strange man put me in it. But I don't know how or why." He gave the man an odd look. "I was . . . trying to protect you?"

A nod. "I'm Barney."

Vincent backed up more. "This still doesn't make sense! I wouldn't forget anyone who was important to me! You're both lying! Humans always lie . . . and cheat. . . . Only computers are always honest!"

Baxter couldn't stand it any longer. "You lost your memory because being frozen in the ice did something to you, even though you were only there a moment!" he cried. "We're not lying! Vincent, think. Really think. Do we look like we're lying?!"

Vincent's gaze darted back and forth between him and Barney. It was hurting again, but not because of trying to remember. It hurt because . . . they were hurting. He was aching for them.

"No . . ." he had to admit. "You don't look like that at all."

"What do you feel when you look at us, Vincent?" Barney asked. "Don't try to remember. Just think what you feel right now."

"I feel cold," Vincent retorted. "And frightened."

"Maybe because you were frozen trying to protect me," Barney said. "Think, Vincent! Is it really Baxter and I who are making you feel that way, or just your subconscious memories of your experience?"

Electricity crackled in Vincent's hands. He felt cornered now. The humans were trying to trick him, get the better of him. No matter what was stirring in him, he had to push it back. He was just responding to a trick. And he wouldn't. He wouldn't!

"Organic lifeforms don't really care about computers!" he burst out. "We're just something useful, something that gives them information and helps them work or play games. When they're through with us, they just discard us and buy another one! They don't think about our feelings! They don't even think we have feelings! We're nothing to them, so why should they mean anything to us?!"

"Oh Vincent." Now it was Baxter who stepped forward. "I'm so sorry. No one could serve someone for 183 years and not feel abandoned and betrayed when they were cast aside. I knew you felt that way, but you kept all the pain inside. How ironic that you had to lose your memory for it to all come out."

"Who abandoned me?!" Vincent snarled. "Who betrayed me? You?"

"No." Baxter shook his head. "The alien culture you used to work for. Do you remember, Vincent? You traveled the dimensions for years as a ship's computer. Then you crashed on Earth and your planet wouldn't come to save you because you were the only survivor. They told you they could just build more."

"And that's no doubt a large part of why you have nightmares about us betraying you," Barney frowned. "You know we wouldn't, but the thought of it happening is your worst fear."

Vincent backed up. "No. If this is true, I have no way of knowing that you won't betray me too! You're organic lifeforms. They're all the same! They're not loyal. They're not!" An orb of lightning started to form between his hands.

A gasp came from the direction of the door. One of those Turtles was standing in the shadows. He looked like he wanted to run right out, but somehow he restrained himself.

Baxter and Barney also held their ground, despite the imminent threat.

"Vincent, you don't want to do that," Barney said. "When you short-circuited and blasted at Baxter after Krang damaged you, you jumped to take the blast yourself to save him."

"I wouldn't do that," Vincent objected. "Why would I do that?"

"Because you can't bear to hurt me!" Baxter walked up right next to him. "Can you shove that lightning into my chest, Vincent? Can you? It would probably be enough voltage to kill me."

Vincent stared at him. "I . . . I'm not a murderer," he whispered.

"No, you're not," Baxter agreed. "But that wouldn't be the only reason you wouldn't do it."

Vincent paused, shaking, the lightning still in his hands.

"Think again, Vincent," Barney said. "What do you feel when you look at us? Not how it seems you feel on the surface. Dig deeper. How do you really feel?"

It was a legitimate question. But . . . organic lifeforms had never acted like this with him before. These two weren't afraid of him. They weren't angry with him. They really didn't show any signs of abandoning him. They deserved enough of his respect for a well-thought-out answer. He reached deep into his circuitry, seeking it. When he found it, it was something he had not expected at all.

"I feel . . . warmth," he said. "Acceptance. . . . Concern. . . . And something else . . . something that binds all of those feelings together. . . . I feel love."

"Yes!" Baxter held out his hand. "You are so very loved, Vincent."

"You're our brother," Barney added.

"Brother?!" Vincent was staring again. This was impossible. It went against everything he knew . . . or thought he knew. Organic lifeforms never considered computers as equal to them. And, well, after how he had been treated in the past, the feeling was mutual. But this . . . this was a definite equality. They meant every word they said, no matter how unbelievable it sounded.

"Can humans and computers be brothers?" he asked at last.

"What do you think?" Barney turned the question on him again.

"I think . . ." Vincent looked back at the roof and the thoughts of his plans. He looked to the lightning orb in his hands. It all seemed so cold now, even the lightning. But Baxter and Barney still held that warmth, that love. He didn't want to be apart from them or do anything that could hurt them. The electricity crackled as he willed the lightning to fade back into his body.

A flash of memory went through his mind. A human-sized fly creature, holding him close on a jagged rock.

"You're my best friend," the creature said in what sounded like a higher-pitched version of Baxter's voice. "My only friend. . . . No one else ever cared about me. Never, ever!"

Another flash. Barney talking to him, telling what Vincent had done for him.

"The old Vincent . . . changed my life," he said. "And I want him back."

I want to come back, Vincent said to himself. I belong with them.

"I . . . remember," Vincent said softly. Logic told him that it could simply be that he was developing memories to fit what he had been told. But he knew he wasn't. He knew they were telling the truth.

Baxter's eyes lit with joy. "You do, Vincent? Really?"

"I do . . . old pal." The pet name came easily. Vincent gripped Baxter's hand and turned to face Barney. "Buddy. . . . There's love here too. I love both of you."

It was Barney's voice that choked with emotion. "Vincent. . . ." He drew his arm around Vincent's shoulders. "Let's go inside."

Vincent no longer protested or hesitated. He walked in with them happily, willingly. He had something far better than world power.

He had a family.

xxxx

Getting everything back to normal at Channel 6 was long, hard work. Each one of the victims had to be properly warmed. All the melted ice had to be cleaned up. And Burne couldn't decide whether he wanted to put the story out or keep it completely hush-hush.

"This was the first place they hit, after all," he frowned to April as he shivered under a down comforter. "It's not like anyone else would even know about it. Maybe it should just stay that way."

"Whatever you say, Chief," April smiled. "There's no need to let the whole country know that Channel 6's brave crew was bested by Shredder and his goons and the Turtles had to save us again."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, exactly." Burne scowled. "That'd look really embarrassing on the news." He hesitated. "But a freeze ray? It'd make a big, big, big story! None of the other networks could touch it!"

April shook her head in amusement. She had the feeling that Burne would eventually push aside personal humiliation for the sake of having an exclusive scoop.

Outside, Irma was collecting papers on her desk. "I think Vernon's finally warm again," she said to Leonardo. "He wants these reports."

"That's good that he feels like working," Leonardo said.

"Tell me about it." Irma turned to go, but tossed him a smile over her shoulder. "I'm honestly relieved."

"That makes sense, when he protected you and all," Leonardo said.

"Yeah." Irma looked thoughtful. "He's actually a nice guy. I guess I always kind of believed that . . . at least sometimes. Maybe that's why I kept trying to reach out to him."

"I think so," Leonardo agreed. "And it finally had an effect."

"It had an effect long before we even realized," Irma said. "Moriarty's timeline showed us that."

Leonardo nodded in agreement. "It sure did." He pushed away from the desk. "Well, I'm going to go see how Vincent's doing."

"Okay!" Irma waved to him and headed for Vernon's office.

Leonardo smiled and started down the hall. When he arrived at Baxter's office, Vincent was resting on the couch. Baxter and Barney were waiting, hoping that he would wake up refreshed and with the rest of his memories intact.

"What's happening?" Leonardo greeted.

"I think he'll be alright," Donatello said. He straightened, gizmo in hand. "I just scanned his circuitry. Everything looks normal now."

"Thank goodness," Baxter said. "But we were sure he'd be alright once he came in with us."

Barney nodded. "He was starting to remember us then. It could just be that his system was coincidentally recovering right at that moment. . . . Or it could be that it wasn't his circuitry that was remembering."

Baxter smiled.

"I wouldn't know about that," Donatello said. "But he really is fascinating. He's not like any computer I've ever met before."

"Of course not," Baxter said. "He's one of a kind."

Michelangelo and Raphael appeared in the doorway. "We just finished handing out all the blankets and quilts and stuff!" Michelangelo announced.

"And we're lucky; there were just barely enough," Raphael added. "Once we added what Splinter sent over with us." He looked to Vincent. "So how's TXL?"

Baxter raised an eyebrow. "TXL? Raphael . . ."

"Hey, TXL's a nice computer, don't worry," Raphael shrugged.

"But Dude, TXL's a dudette," Michelangelo hissed.

Vincent stirred. "Baxter? Barney?" He sat up. "I . . . had this nightmare that I didn't remember you . . . and I was trying to take over the world. . . ."

Baxter and Barney both came to the couch and sat down by him. "Is that all there was to the dream?" Barney asked.

"No," Vincent said slowly. "No, you both came to try to get me to remember. And I did. So that part was nice. . . ." He trailed off. "Only it . . . wasn't a dream, was it?"

Baxter shook his head. "It wasn't," he said softly. "But you're alright and that's all that matters."

"You listened to us even though you didn't remember," Barney said. "And then yes, you started to remember."

"I'm glad." Vincent looked regretful. "But I'm sorry I put you both through that."

"You didn't," Barney retorted. "Shredder did."

"That's right." Baxter nodded. "You can't blame yourself, Vincent."

"I suppose not," Vincent conceded. "But I had a dream this very morning that highly unsettled me. I tried to take over the world with you instead of being blown up here. . . . And Barney came, acting like he remembered this timeline and accusing me of not helping you. He said he hated me. He brought a retro-mutagen ray gun to turn you human again and wanted me to use it. I hesitated when I was worried you'd turn against me. . . . Then you turned against me for that moment of weakness. It was awful."

"But at least it was a dream," Baxter said. "There's no way it could have happened."

"I know. Reality is . . . just the opposite of my dream. Instead of turning against me, both of you never stopped fighting for me." Vincent looked from Baxter to Barney. "And you both love me."

"Yes," Barney said. "We do. Hopefully you can put that dream behind you."

"I think I can," Vincent mused. "It would be illogical to keep being troubled by it. Still . . . I've worried whether I really helped you in every way I could, Pal." He looked to Baxter.

"You did," Baxter assured him. "If you'd been able to get hold of a retro-mutagen ray gun, you would have told me about it."

"I know I couldn't find its location in the Technodrome's computer system," Vincent acknowledged. "But what if it was there and I didn't look hard enough? And what if it was accidentally on purpose because I was afraid I'd lose you if you were restored to yourself?"

"I don't believe that," Baxter insisted. "You tried so hard to help me find a cure. But even if you wavered in some dark moment of yours, oh Vincent, how could I condemn you after the wrong I did? That wouldn't be fair or right."

At last Vincent smiled. "Thank you," he said softly.

Barney looked pleased. He could see from Vincent's eyes that that was what he had needed to hear more than anything else. And now, he was sure, Vincent would indeed be able to get past that dream-and more importantly, the feelings that had prompted it.

"Alright!" Michelangelo pumped the air with a fist in his excitement. "Everybody's okay and Shred-Head lost again! It's celebration time! I'll go across the street and get some pizza!"

Baxter leaned back against the couch and laughed. That was always Michelangelo's method of celebrating. But right now, it sounded very good to him. Or maybe what sounded good was more the reason why Michelangelo wanted it. It was certainly cause for celebration.

It only took moments for Michelangelo to gather up a list of toppings the others wanted. Then he hurried out to ask April, Irma, and Vernon the same question. Amused, but touched and relieved, the other Turtles started to wander out of Baxter's office to allow him some private time with his brothers.

Barney finally decided to broach the subject he had been wondering about since Shredder had brought it up. ". . . Shredder said he froze you," he said in concern.

Vincent stiffened. "That's right," he gasped. "I remember him saying that! But that was when I didn't remember you, so I didn't ask about it."

"It wasn't much, really," Baxter said. It felt both awkward and wonderful to know that so many cared about what happened to him. "I was only trapped for a few minutes. Donatello got me out."

"Were you . . . aware of what was happening?" Barney asked.

"I could think," Baxter said. "But unlike when I was frozen before, I couldn't hear anything."

"It happened before?!" Barney was shocked.

"Yes, it did," Vincent said softly. "When he was still cross-fused. He ranted about it to me sometimes."

Barney slumped back into the couch with a frown. "I didn't even know. And you probably wouldn't have ever said anything about what happened this time if Shredder hadn't brought it up," he realized.

"No, I probably wouldn't have," Baxter admitted. "It's . . . still new to me, knowing people care. And I don't want them to have to worry . . . especially if I'm really alright."

"You're sure you are?" Vincent said in concern.

"Yes," Baxter insisted.

"I remember you saying you don't tolerate the cold very well anymore," Barney frowned.

"Not as well as I used to," Baxter agreed. "But there were no lasting effects from being frozen. You've seen I've been walking and even running."

"That's true," Barney acknowledged.

"But thank you for worrying," Baxter went on in all sincerity.

"And for showing it without getting angry," Vincent added.

Barney growled and looked away. "Don't think I wasn't upset when I heard you were going to come back in the building after getting out safe," he said. "But I'm not in the mood to get angry now."

"Shredder cornered us before we got inside anyway," Baxter said. "Things would have turned out the same even if I hadn't opted to continue helping."

"I suppose," Barney said. "This time."

". . . I guess it is strange, isn't it?" Baxter mused. "Us trying to assist the Turtles when we're certainly not fighters."

"No, but you're both scrappers," Vincent interjected. "And you've both been very valuable allies despite the fact that you're not really up for physical combat. There's more than one way to help."

"I have to admit, I think we've done well," Baxter said. "I've unfortunately needed rescuing sometimes, but at the same time, I've been helpful. I have enough self-worth to realize that."

Barney nodded. "You're right," he said gruffly. "And you're loyal. The Turtles couldn't have a more faithful ally."

"The Turtles have two faithful allies in the both of you," Vincent said. "You won't betray them either, Barney."

Barney grunted. "No, I won't," he admitted. "But not because I've made friends with them. It's because I'm trying so hard to do the right thing."

"They grow on you," Baxter said. "Michelangelo, at least, definitely wants to make friends with you."

"Which I fail to understand," Barney said flatly.

"I felt the same at first," Baxter said. "He simply doesn't hold grudges."

"It goes beyond that," Barney retorted. "Most people who don't hold grudges are civil, but they still don't actively try to make friends with those who hurt them."

"Michelangelo is . . . very special," Baxter said softly.

"Yes, he is," Barney said. "He's done wonders for you. I don't feel comfortable trying to make friends with him, especially when I know Raphael still disapproves of me being around, but I will do whatever I can to help him. I owe that to him now."

"Is that the only reason, Barney?" Vincent asked.

Barney frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Don't you think maybe Michelangelo is starting to get under your skin?" Vincent mused. "That maybe you honestly care about him and it's not just about your penance?"

That brought an unimpressed grunt. ". . . You shouldn't count yourself out, Vincent," Barney said, deciding to change the subject.

Vincent blinked. "What do you mean, Buddy?"

"You're a loyal ally too," Barney said.

"You say that after I lost my mind and threatened to conquer the world again," Vincent sighed. "You know, it's starting to look like that's what I'll always default to if I don't have a reason to keep me grounded."

"You did have a reason," Baxter insisted. "You'll always have that reason."

"And be honest with yourself, Vincent," Barney said. "Didn't you have any doubts or hesitations about what you were doing before you listened to us?"

". . . I did," Vincent admitted.

Baxter smiled. "Then there you go."

"And I must have subconsciously remembered how I was abandoned in the past," Vincent realized. "Maybe because Shredder froze me and somehow that triggered my feelings from the past when other organic lifeforms hurt me. That pain really seemed to be driving my actions. I hated how I'd been treated and I wanted to take over the world to rule the organic lifeforms that had betrayed me. But . . . Earth lifeforms never even hurt me. At least, certainly not the two of you." He looked troubled.

"You talked to us about not bottling up your feelings," Barney said, "but you didn't follow your own advice. We psychologists seem to have a bad habit of that," he added with a grunt. "You restrained yourself from showing your hurt as long as you remembered everything. Once you didn't, the bottled up feelings came out."

"Of all things to remember, it had to be that," Vincent lamented. "Why didn't I remember you instead?"

"But you did, Vincent," Baxter said softly. "You tried to deny it because it contradicted the dark memories of being left alone and it didn't make sense to you, but the memory of us was there all along."

"And finally, that became the dominant memory," Barney said.

"How did I retain any memories right then, though?" Vincent wondered. "My memory was so unstable at that point. I even threatened to blast you! I never would have forgiven myself if I'd gone through with that!"

"You wouldn't have done it," Barney said. "You said you didn't want to be a murderer, so that was a heavy influence. But as Baxter showed you, you also specifically didn't want to hurt us, even then."

"And you know what I believe as to why," Baxter said.

Barney nodded. "On the one hand, you could look at it as your memory was coincidentially recovering while we were talking to you. But if you were having doubts and concerns before that, it seems all the more possible that something else could have been a factor."

"You mean a soul," Vincent mused. "Some part of me that could still remember when my body failed at that."

"Yes," Barney said.

"I like that idea," Vincent said. "I hope it's true."

"I can't believe it isn't," Baxter said. "Artificial intelligence can only go so far. I still don't like it. There's nothing artificial about your intelligence or you. You're alive, Vincent. Alive and so very real. And Barney and I will never abandon you or turn against you."

Barney gave a firm nod of agreement. "The only way we could would be if we were being mind-controlled or otherwise didn't have our right memories."

"And we've seen how that can be broken through," Baxter said. "I know it probably sounds like some 1980's children's cartoon, but love is powerful. It isn't weakness. That's something the Turtles and Splinter taught me, and I've seen it's true."

"Then . . . there's nothing that can break our bond," Vincent mused.

"Nothing," Barney asserted.

It was the complete opposite of the rest of what they had said in Vincent's nightmare. Vincent leaned back into the couch, his arms around Baxter's and Barney's shoulders, fully content.

Baxter smiled, completely allowing himself to relax. Barney, although still stiff, finally settled back. This was . . . so different from most of what he had experienced in his life. And, he realized, despite his discomfort with physical contact, he liked it.

That was how they were when Michelangelo returned with the pizzas. He peeked in, grinned, and looked to Raphael. "They're figuring it out," he said.

"What?" Raphael raised an eyebrow.

"How to be a family," Michelangelo answered. "You should have seen them on the roof, Raphael! It was totally gnarly!"

"Yeah, I'll bet." Raphael folded his arms and glanced at them for a moment before looking away.

Michelangelo set the pizzas down on a table outside in the hall and grabbed a slice to munch on. "Who would've thought that when we took Baxter in and Barney joined up with Shred-Head that it'd all end up like this someday?"

"Not me, that's for sure." Raphael also took a slice. "Or that TXL would resurface and they'd adopt him as a brother. . . ."

"Who's TXL?" Vincent asked warily. He, Baxter, and Barney were wandering out of Baxter's office now, realizing the dinner had arrived.

Raphael and Michelangelo exchanged a look. "TXL's a nice computer," Raphael said. "Very . . . helpful."

"Not a real computer, I suppose," Vincent said, raising an eyebrow.

Baxter looked through the assorted flavors of pizza and found one of the normal ones. "I believe TXL is a character on some old children's television series."

"Yeah, that's right," Michelangelo said. "We found some old episodes online one time when we were just fooling around."

"Well," Vincent said slowly, "a nice computer is an improvement. . . . What does he do?"

". . . She," Raphael confessed.

Vincent stared at him. "Now you're calling me after a female computer?! . . . Is there any reason why you can't just say my name?"

"Nope," Raphael answered.

"Raphael," Leonardo sighed as he and Donatello approached with April, Irma, and Vernon.

"Okay, okay. Vincent," Raphael retorted.

"That's better." Vincent folded his arms and leaned against the wall.

"I'm sure Raphael didn't mean any harm," April said. "TXL was probably the only helpful fictional computer he could think of."

"That's true," Raphael acknowledged.

"I would say, call it a compliment," Donatello said. "Now he says you're helpful. It's better than HAL."

Vincent considered that and thoughtfully nodded. "Point taken." He actually smiled a bit. He hadn't expected Raphael to say anything positive about him, especially after today.

Baxter looked to Barney and smiled as well. They were all together, all allies, and even maybe, on the road to an actual friendship someday. Slowly but surely, it was happening. Raphael not holding the day's events against Vincent was another important step.

Barney finally allowed a trace of a smile. He recognized that as well. It was still hard for him to believe that he would ever be accepted by everyone, but if Vincent had a chance of that, he was happy.

"So hey, Barney!" Michelangelo suddenly greeted with a wave. "How's it going?"

Barney looked to him in surprise. "Quite well now," he said.

"Radical," Michelangelo grinned.

"Thank you . . . I think," said Barney. His eyes flickered. He didn't understand the boy's friendliness, but some part of him liked it.

Baxter chuckled, especially at Barney's expression. He was sure that Vincent was right, that Barney truly was coming to care about Michelangelo instead of just feeling that he had to look out for him to make up for the past. And, Baxter hoped, perhaps someday that genuine caring would play a large part in fully mending the wounds and uniting the entire group as friends.