They say that if you love someone, you should let them go. Like if you take in a sick bird and nurse it back to health. In the end, you release it. But deep down, you hope it comes back because during that time, you learned to love that bird. You cared about that bird. And even though you want that bird to be free and happy, you also want it there with you.

That's how Donatello felt when it came to April O'Neil. She was his sick bird. The bird he helped nurture until the Kraang were defeated and they saved April's dad. After all those years and time together, she was healed and could be released back into the world.

Donatello didn't want her to leave. Didn't want to let her go. She was his. He was so in love with her, it hurt. He didn't know how to go back to 'normal,' whatever that was. He couldn't recall life before the beautiful red head came into it. His life revolved around her.

So when her dad came back into the picture, he knew it was time to say goodbye. She was a young woman, now. She's graduated high school and would be going off to college far away from there. Far away from him.

He'd hover outside of her window back at her dad's apartment. She'd open the window, surprised to see him but greet him with the same warmth she had all those years. "It's okay, Donnie. It's just a few years. I'll be back. I promise."

When the time to say goodbye did come, he couldn't wish her off. It was too hard. She was there in the morning and gone by nightfall. Times like those he wished he hadn't been a mutant. Wished he could be human just so he could join her.

When she left, Donatello inhaled and held his breath. That's how life felt. Like he was holding his breath and if he exhaled, life would be over. Everything would just end right then and there.

He tried to distract himself with training. Distract himself with his work. Whenever a letter came to him from April, he refused to read them. Would she meet a man? Would she fall in love with where she was and never come back? He wanted to return her letters, but he couldn't. What would he say? All he did was sleep, eat, train, and invent. It was nothing compare to the life she was probably living. The life without him.

The years crept by and Donatello couldn't even feel anymore. Every day felt the same and he felt as though everything he did was worthless. Waste of his time. To get away from it all, he would take his frustration to a hilly area outside of the city. He'd hit the trees with his bo staff to get out the frustration, try to find the stars in the sky or just lie there, pretending he didn't exist.

"Donnie?"

He sat up. Great. He was hearing things. But the sweet voice came again and he glanced over his shoulder to see a small and lean figure. Her red hair gleamed in the moonlight and beads of sweat dotted her face from the hike up the hill.

April had barely changed. Her hair was longer and she looked more mature, but other than that, she was the same old April. His April.

She smiled at him and he forgot how to think. April came back. She really came back. Like she said she would.

"Why didn't you write to me? Did you get my letters?"

Suddenly, Donatello felt guilty for not reading the papers stacked in his room. For not writing back. He licked his lips, trying to form words.

"I was scared."

"Scared? Scared of what?"

"Oh what I'd read about. That'd you'd never come back. That someone else would steal you. That I'd lose you."

"Donnie, you're never going to lose me. No one's going to steal me away from you. Ever." She walked over the wet grass and held his hand in her tiny palm. "Never forget that, Donnie. I've been looking for you all day. There wasn't a moment at university when I didn't think about you. Or the others. Nothing was the same without you. And as much as I loved college...I love being here more. With you."

For the first time since she left, the built up feeling he had like inhaling air and holding it went away. He exhaled, feeling as though that was the first time he could really breathe. The tears came and he crushed her to him, crying and gushed his heart out. He didn't care if he was being lame. He didn't care if he was going overboard. She was there with him and she had come back. She was his sick bird and after so long, she finally flew back to him. And he'd never let her go again as long as he lived.