Nothing special this time… just another 'Same As it Never Was'fic to add to the collection. I was thinking of plotlines the other day and I suddenly had this urge to write about it. The story moves at a rapid pace … if fact, I wouldn't be surprised to find people complain on how short it is. But that's okay… All I ask is that my readers just be aware that, when I wrote this, I didn't intend to make a huge project out of it. It was just for 'fun'. (That would be 'fun' for Shadowflame, who just can't seem to grasp the concept of humor fun, and angst/ tragedy not so fun)

Since this is based on SAINW, it might contain some spoilers for the episode for those who have yet to see it. Just a warning on that part.

There is character death in this fic. If you absolutely cannot stand to see any of the turtles or their friends die, then it is strongly suggested by myself that you click the lil 'back' link that will return you to whatever page you were previously viewing.

There is swearing in this fic. Also, double parenthesis notify the time that the scene is taking place in. The turtles were born in the year of 1985, making them twenty two when the war started.

The Ninja Turtles and other characters do not belong to me, nor does the storyline of 'Same As it Never Was'. This piece of writing is mine, though.

I will quote bits from SAINW in this fic. They are in italics and bold.

((The beginning of the end, September 23, 2007))

"Serve the Shredder. He is your lord and master. Serve the Shredder and live!"

"That… this can't be right." Donatello was sitting stiffly upright, soft, brown eyes glued to the computer monitor and mouth slightly agape in absolute horror. "Not… not with the technology that he has right now…" He spread his large, green digits over the keyboard, ready to resume typing as soon as he recovered from his stupor.

It was several moments before the turtle moved again, relaxing slightly from his stiff posture and cracking his wrists with an unconscious flick of each hand. Then he began to type furiously, murmuring words like 'impossible' and 'this can't be' to himself over and over.

But whatever Donatello feared at the moment seemed to be confirmed, for there was a metallic beeping from the computer, followed by the screen flashing blue. In a very uncharacteristic display of frustration, Don pushed himself from his computer desk with an audible growl, rolling across his sub-car laboratory to a desk opposite the room from the one he had just been occupying.

He began to frantically search the numerous drawers on the desk for something, grumbling to himself with each unsuccessful search. Finally, he found what he was searching for in the very last drawer – a disk- and immediately wheeled himself back to his computer desk, making a vow to himself to become more organized someday.

He promptly pressed the button that opened the C drive and plopped the disk labeled '75a' with shaking hands unceremoniously into the drive. A program opened, and Donatello moved the mouse across the monitor screen, clicking the 'ok' button. As soon as he did, a new window popped up, displaying the program's progress. One percent completed… five percent completed… seventeen percent completed… The title of the progress window, highlighted in blue, was 'Virus uploading to programs 56xb-284bt'.

Now Don relaxed slightly, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands on his lap, waiting to see if the program worked. He tried to remain calm, but could not deny himself of the fear that nagged at he corners of his mind, nor could he stop himself from quaking. The screen flashed again, this time red, and a feminine voice spoke.

"Error uploading virus 75a to programs 56xb-284bt. Password needed to continue further. Please speak password after the beep." Beep.

"Shit!" Donatello yelled angrily, bringing his hands to his head and leaning back so that his old chair computer creaked dangerously, as though on the verge of giving in.

"We are sorry," there was a pause, and then a recording of Donatello screaming 'shit' was replayed, and the computer continued. "…is not a valid password. Your system code has been categorized under 'intruder' and will hereby be terminated from…"

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and Leo's voice could be heard. "Donnie? You alright?"

Don slowly brought his hands away from his face, exposing his worried expression. He reached over and turned his speakers off so that he would not have to listen to what he already knew the female voice would say before replying. "No, I'm not." He felt Leo come up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Well, whatever it is, I'm sure that you'll find a way to get us through it." Don sighed shakily, and Leo felt some of his confidence in his brother drop. "…Don?"

"I don't think… I don't think I can get us through it this time, Leo." He looked up into his older brother's confused face. "It's Shredder. And Stockman."

Leo paused, looking down at his younger brother, before replying, "I don't understand."

"Leo, he- they – hacked into the governments's security systems."

"In the United States?"

"No, Leo. Not just the US … the entire world. Shredder, he... he has complete control."

((1 year, 9 months later))

Future Michelangelo: "…Where the shell have you been all these years?"

Present Donatello: "All these years?"

Future Michelangelo: "You've been gone over thirty years, Donatello."

Present Donatello: "Thirty years? It can't be!"

Future Michelangelo: "It can be, and is. We thought you were dead... How the shell could you just abandon us like that?"

Present Donatello: "I didn't. I'd never abandon you guys."

Donatello stood alone, blanketed in the shadows of a large building and staring down his beak at a manhole cover, seemingly deep in thought. Slung across the turtle's shoulder was a large duffel bag, so heavy that it made Donnie lean to the side slightly as he held its weight.

He seemed to be immune to the piercing screams that echoed throughout the city, something that, nowadays, happened often. Probably another human being captured for slavery or extermination. He didn't flinch when the loud cracking sound of a gun sounded from overhead, nor did he move when a large group of humans rushed past him, chased closely by Shredder's authorities.

Finally, after a time that seemed to stretch for hours, (when in reality, it was only a few minuets) the turtle blinked. A single tear slid freely down his cheek, where it dripped off his chin and seemed to hang suspended in the air for a brief moment before it resumed it's plummet to the ground. Donatello's eyes did not leave the manhole cover as he spoke.

"Leo, Mikey, Raph… Master Splinter… I'm sorry. Please understand, I must do this." His voice shook slightly as he spoke. "I do this for the sake of this planet, for our home… but mostly, I do this for… well, you guys. You are all the most important people to me in the world. I… I love…" He stopped, sucking in a deep breath in a meager effort to control himself. However, grief still edged its way to the corners of his eyes and relieved itself from his body in it's purest form: tears. He bowed his head, determined to speak whatever he had to say.

"… You guys. I don't want to put you all through this, I really don't. But I have come to the conclusion that since I am the one who is needed the least in the family, then I should be the one to carry out this burden." He stood there quietly for a few more minuets, clenching his teeth together so that the sobs would not escape him as he tried to absorb a mental the picture of his home, of the faces of his family. Finally, he turned his back on what was once his sanctuary, and left.

Donatello had deliberately set things up so that it would look like he left to patrol the city, and during that had perished. It hurt him to do such a thing; he knew before he did it what grief he was going to put his family through. But what drove him to make such an act was the possibility that he will someday return home to his family. That was, if he did not perish during this absolutely reckless move to save the world. No, that was not the right way to face the road ahead of him… He will return someday. That he vowed.

…He just hoped that his family would still be there, alive, when he did.

(4 years since the disappearance of Donatello)

Master Splinter blinked rainwater from his eyes, spreading his senses outward in every direction possible. He could not physically sense the Foot, but there was an overwhelming sense of danger in the air. It seemed to suck all of the oxygen from the environment, leaving behind a thick atmosphere of death and pain to breathe.

With every step that he took, Splinter became more and more aware of his mission- more aware of why he and his sons were here. They wanted revenge. Revenge for the loss of a dearly beloved turtle and their human friend, Casey. They also came for payback for all of the countless innocent human souls that had been lost over the period of almost seven years.

In front of him, Splinter could see Leonardo clearly despite the precipitation, scouting slightly ahead, but not too far—he would not greatly distance himself from his family. On either side of Splinter cautiously walked his other two remaining sons- Michelangelo and Raphael. Their weapons were drawn; faces taught in a mixture of both fear and a burning, spiteful anger.

It was a mission that they had already attempted two times before. It had scarred the small family more than they already were- mentally and physically. Splinter watched his sons as the wound in their hearts and minds scabbed over, and in the first few months after the 'incidents' the scabs sometimes would reopen and bleed crimson emotions that one could barely cope with. Splinter saw more scabs bleed on the loss of the purple banded turtle and the hotheaded vigilante than he did on any other trouble that crossed his family's path.

He also saw his sons become physically scarred, as better demonstrated by Raphael, who had lost an eye on their first attempt at ridding the world of Shredder.

The atmosphere of the lair had changed greatly since the disappearance of Donatello. It did not take long before Splinter realized that his son's fights had began to take place more often- and when they did, they were much more violent, especially the ones concerning Leonardo and Raphael. It got to the point that Splinter feared the separation of his family. He often wondered that, if they were to separate, when it would be. A month from now? A year? Or perhaps tomorrow…

Splinter shook himself from his thoughts. Now was not the time to dwell on things that could happen in the future. Now, in the present, Splinter began to sense the Foot surrounding them- in incredibly large numbers. Feeling the adrenaline rush through his old bones at the promise of a soon battle, Splinter called his sons to a stop.

"Halt." He barely heard himself speak these words. His soms seemed to, however, and immediately obeyed, Leonardo backing up until he was closer to his comrades. There was a few moments of absolute silence, during which time seemed to move painfully slow.

And then, like an enormous cloud of black locusts, the Foot dropped from above, circling the small family. Splinter felt his sons instinctively close tightly around him, as though they were protecting him with their bodies. He stepped out of the center of the 'turtle triangle', standing between Leonardo and Michelangelo.

A single arrow came sailing trough the air. Splinter reached up and calmly grabbed the shaft just before it met it's destination- right between his eyes. He raised his other hand and gripped the arrow in both hands, snapping the shaft in two and throwing the pieces aside. Thunder rumbled angrily above their heads and the clouds continued to pour rain upon the warriors, as though shedding tears for the lives that were about to be lost in this battle. Lightning flashed in the sky, briefly illuminating the silhouettes of the Foot and, behind them, the huge looming form of the Shredder in his newest exosuit. The Shredder raised one arm to the sky and, slowly, the Foot moved as one giant black creature, descending upon it's pray.

And so began a great and bloody battle.

(The next day)

Present Donatello: "No… Master Splinter is…? No!"

Future Michelangelo: "…It's not the safest place, but it's where sensei wanted to be buried."

Present Donatello: "H- how?"

Future Michelangelo: "A couple of years after you disappeared, Master Splinter gave his life protecting the three of us."

Present Donatello: "I can't believe this place… It's all so… Horrible."

Future Michelangelo: "You'll get used to it."

Michelangelo sat just outside the lair, knees brought up against his chest, his remaining arm wrapped around his legs firmly, turning him into a tight ball of green sinew. The left arm, not reduced to a stub, hung limply at his side. It felt odd not to be able to wrap his other arm about himself. In fact, Mike kept getting the weird feeling that the appendage was still there. He remembered Donnie talking about something like that before… called it a 'ghost limb'.

Mike's left leg was also bandaged. When the claws from the Shredder's exosuit had sliced through his arm like butter, it had scratched his leg as well.

He stared blankly into the rushing sewage water, eyes fogged over in a forlorn, dead look. Pain throbbed dully from his various wounds but Michelangelo did not seem to notice. He seemed to be oblivious of everything surrounding him but, in truth, his concentration was focused on the angry voices emitting from the lair.

Raphael and Leonardo were fighting. The physical part of their disagreement over and done with, they had succumbed to verbal abuse.

"Don't give me that shit, fearless leader! We could have saved him; you know that!"

"Raph, it was no use! We would not have been able to save him, even if we tried! Besides, if we had jumped in to save him, we would have perished as well! Raph, look at Mikey. We barely made it out of there as it was!"

"Better off perishin' than livin' through this shit! I would have rather died than selfishly exchange our father's life for my own!" The hotheaded turtle's voice was shaking. Mike new that he was either crying, or on the verge of it.

"We had to stay alive for a reason. We have to give it everything we've got; we have to kill the Shredder once and for all! If we do, then the planet will be safe again."

"And then what? Go back to the way that things were? I'm tellin' ya right now, Leo, I'm sick of saving those danm humans' ungrateful asses! We save them, and then they go back to screamin' at the sight of us, go back to hating us just for our mere appearance! Ta them, were just freaks!"

"So we just sit back and watch the entire human race perish!"

"Yes, Leo, exactly! Maybe by th' time their numbers are low enough ta deem their survival hopeless, humans would have learned a lesson!" There was a pause, during which Mike could hear his brothers' labored breathing; as though they had both just run marathons.

"Raph, once Shredder takes over this planet, then what do you think he will do? He'll go after other planets, that's what! He will kill other innocent alien species, species that haven't even judged us like the humans have!"

"Well, that's not our problem."

"Not our problem?"

"You seriously have your priorities confused, bro. Our problem is that we have a leader who seems ta think that its okay ta leave family members behind when they need us most!"

Something in the sewer water caught Mike's eye. It was a lump, covered in brown cloth. The youngest turtle watched it until it washed up on the cement flooring of the sewers, not more than three feet away from where he was sitting.

Still halfway listening to the brawl between his brothers, the youngest turtle stood up painfully, relying on his good arm and leg to steady him. Then he limped over to the lumpy figure.

"Raph, don't start that with me again! We've been over it what must have been a million times! No matter how many different ways that you word it, my answer is still going to be the same."

Mike bent down next to the lump, ignoring the pain from his leg. He reached down with his good arm and slowly flipped the thing over. The soaked cloth slid away, revealing what it was. Mike gasped. It was Splinter's carcass.

"I'm just gonna keep repeating this for ya until you see the light!"

Mike picked up the battered body of his sensei, cradling the stiff and cold corpse in his good arm as best he could. He reached up with his hand and brushed some of the slime away from his sensei's cheek with this thumb, and looked into the face, which was forever screwed up with the pain that the rat had to endure during the last moments of his life.

"I'm only gonna say this once more: it's what he wanted, Raph. He died to save us!" Leo's words seemed to echo down the sewer tunnel. Mike cradled his father up to his chest and laid his own head on Splinter's soaked, furry chest. "If you don't want to believe me, if you don't want to listen to my senseless jabber, then you can leave!"

"…You know what, Leo? That's gotta be the first thing that you've said in a long while that actually makes sense! I think I will leave. Leave you to rot in your own grief, in your own self- blame, cuz I already know that that's what your feelin' right now." A door slammed, and Raph's voice faded away. There was a fewmoments of quiet before Leo raised his voice again, but this time for an entirely different reason.

"Mike? Mike!"

Michelangelo didn't answer. In fact, he completely ignored his brother. He rocked back and forth, holding his father's body in his good arm and staring through tear- blurred vision at Splinter's face.

And, suddenly, Mike felt something inside him change. It was a feeling that he had never felt before… like something inside of him had hardened, become cold. He clenched his fist as he felt Leo come up from behind him and put a hand lightly on his shoulder. Donnie was gone, Casey was gone, Master Splinter… and now, in his own way, Raph had left, too.

A sense of complete and utter hopelessness washed over the turtle. They had been battling the Shredder, but all in vain. Now, holding the body of one that Mike had always though to be invincible, he realized that they were all going to die. Shredder would kill them all.

But the younger turtle vowed that he would at least make an impact on the Shredder's forces before he went. For Donnie, for Casey, and for Master Splinter.

(27 years later, Same As it Never Was takes place…)

Hmm… so, tell me, was that any good at all? Do I need to improve it in any way? I'm open to all suggestions. Oh, and I don't know if I should leave this the way it is (kind of like 'Stabbed'). See, I named this fic so that I could make Donnie come back, but… I just figured that I'd leave the fic here and see if my readers wanted another chapter.