Rounding the corner, they came to the front of a large complex that took over a quarter of a block and rose five levels high. The sleek granite-lined lobby was set a small distance off the sidewalk, above which a back-lit sign brandished the company name in neon blue: Falcon Pharmaceuticals. A spark of recognition hit him.

"Hey- this is where you work, right?"

They slowed to a halt.

"That would be me." Her focus scattered over the entrance in a way which Donatello recognized as checking for stray eyes and ears. A habit she had picked up from his family. "I thought we could do the walk-by tour."

Donatello peered through the thick glass walls into the darkened foyer where paper thin LED screen played endless loops of trademarked products. He could recognize most of them as astronomically expensive prescriptive medications (Isolel – clear your mind today!). Others drew blanks.

"Impressive." he choked out, eyes scanning up to the inscrutable floors and ventilation chambers above. The place reeked money. And with money came world class facilities. What he wouldn't do to have a look inside.

She looped her fingers through the boundary fence.

"This is just the satellite office for the bio-robotics division. The company recently invested in a new thirty thousand dollar scanning electron microscope for our location, which the senior technicians are getting serious training to use… but I have this gut feeling you'd figure that bastard out in ten minutes flat."

"Ten minutes? Twenty seems more realistic."

She gave a quiet chuckle.

"Every time I pass the EM lab, I think about how much you'd like it."

They stood a moment, dwarfed not only by its size but by the circumstances that would keep him permanently on the outside of places like this. Or permanently inside. He shuddered.

"It's more fun on the outside. Trust me." April said, practically reading his mind. She released the fence. It snapped back into place with a metallic jitter. "Want to know a secret? The longer I'm here, the more I think about leaving to reopen my dad's antique shop."

"R-Really?" His head swiveled back towards her in shock, "Why?"

She released a heavy sigh.

"I think I'm at a point where I want more from my life than achieving other people's goals."

"But… what about all your years of studying? Don't you think it would be a waste?"

"Me? No. You?" she leveled her gaze at him, "You should have your name on a side of a building like that. I've always thought that. During college you were mentoring me on things you had learned from reading a book, once. Do you know how smart you are, Donnie? Do you really know?"

He temporarily dismissed the notion. The thought of April abandoning her career felt like she were leaving the last part of him, too. Perhaps all she needed a fresh perspective. He could buy time.

"Don't leave." He gestured towards her building, "You don't have to work here… but you have a chance to really make a difference. Maybe we could…"

"Work together?"

"Yes." he said with quiet conviction, "Work together. I mean," he said at length, thinking primarily of their earlier evening "we already do."

They both took a moment to wonder why they had not attempted the obvious.

"That's a thought." she murmured to herself. Then, "Donnie, we don't need this place to do it. If our app works out, we could get the capital to hire equipment for your lab. A milling machine, oscilloscope... whatever your heart desires, I can get my hands on it. Hell, why not even a new centrifuge to replace the one Mikey beat up? What do you think?"

He was thinking big already: "I have about three potential patents I could get through to production phase within the next 12 months."

The both exchanged a surprised glance as the opportunity bloomed before them. April leaned back on her foot and folded her arms.

"What about your trip to Canada?"

To him, the answer was obvious.

"It can wait."

"Are you sure you're willing to put your plans on hold-"

"It can wait." he said again, "Please don't feel like you're stopping me from anything I want to do. An idea like this -you have to act on it. Technology waits for no mutant. And if it succeeds…"

He didn't even need to finish. With enough money, it wouldn't even matter that he existed off the grid. Money was the ticket to get anywhere. Even as a mutant.

A fleeting look of worry gathered on her face.

"I don't know…"

"Really. It can wait."

A soundless sigh left her, then: "Only if you're certain."

"April," he insisted again, "I'm positive."

April nodded. Stopped. Nodded again. Her arms uncrossed and fell along her side. Finally, she lifted a finger and pointed at him.

"You have to go. Promise me. It doesn't matter when, but promise me you'll go. I haven't seen you this happy about something in a long time… and I don't want to be the reason you had to change your plans."

Smiling, Donatello crossed his heart with an awkward bend of his mitten.

"I promise. I'll go."

A small huff left her, satisfied at last, "Are we really doing this?"

"I'm in if you are." he shrugged, "Anything would be a step up from the remote I.T. support I'm doing now. What do you think?"

"I think…" she said carefully, "I think when we get back, we need to hash this out."

He nodded: "Definitely."

"I mean, it could be our name on the side of a building." The erratic possibility gleamed in her eye, "Or some weird amalgamation of the two."

"What are you proposing?" he asked, curious and amused.

She upturned her hands and scrunched her face: "Donril?"

They stared at each other for but a second before bursting out into a nervous chuckle. April slapped his arm.

"Come on. There's something else up ahead I think you'll really like."

With little more than the command: 'I'll be right back.' Donatello found himself in the familiar position of hovering in a dark alley; waiting for April after she had disappeared into a bordering-on-condemnable diner. Diner was almost too good a word for 'Frankies'. Grease had collected into the corners of the windows like real-life vignetting, set off perfectly by rust-pitted chrome fixtures inside. Decaying 'Specials!' signs had given him little faith that the side-excursion would result in anything remotely edible. Nevertheless, he grinned like an idiot. Anything to fuel the adventure was worth the risk. Then a new sound broke into his private meanderings…

Woof! Woof!

The bark was hoarse and hollow. Donatello stepped back out of the half light and along the shadowy wall. The jangle of a choker chain was soon followed by an aging pit bull snuffling at his feet. Donatello tried his best to shake him off:

"Shoo, boy."

"Dexter, get back!" The owner, remarkably similar in appearance to his pet, caught up and plucked the leads end off the ground, "Sorry, man. He ain't normally like that."

Still semi-obscured in the shadows, Donatello waved a dismissive hand.

"No problem."

Their retreat was just as sudden. Donatello watched as the stocky pair trotted away. He didn't often come across dogs, but noticed that they had a tendency to be curious about him and his brothers. Something he made a mental note to amend. The ninja beneath the scientist. The freezing ninja beneath the scientist. Still waiting for April to emerge, he did a little warming-up jig on the spot. Normally if out on a night like this he would be moving faster and much higher up. If Leonardo had been leading a training run, he would have undoubtedly broken out in sweat by now. The cold was more indisputable when moving slow, and his semi-homothermic blood felt every degree it dropped below mild. All that seemed to disappear when he heard the diner door strike the small shopkeeper bell as April made her way out balancing two cups in her hands.

"Did someone say a large post-mix coke?"

Without missing a beat, he answered - "That'd be the large turtle in the dark alley."

A giggle slipped out beside her groan as she placed the beverage in his grip. He twisted the straw with his lips and sipped. The caffeine and sugar hit him like a freezing, sweet punch.

"Cripes… that's good."

"Real sugar." she revealed with a quick rise and fall of her brows.

"Mmm." He sipped again, this time downing half the contents in one gulp, "How much do I owe you?"

"Good lord, Donnie, if we're going to play that game, I'd be broke." She sipped, winced, then shivered. "Shall we?"

"After you."

They stepped back onto the thoroughfare making their way east around their spirited conversation, as their surroundings gradually morphed into non-descript refurbished 19th century tenements. It was unexpectedly wonderful just strolling down the street with her, discussing everything from their new venture, to the robotic prototype he had in mind to develop, and off-tracking to the downright hypothetical. Never dull and always entertaining, he never felt so himself as when he was in her company.

Her laughter brought him back to earth.

"A solar powered laptop and a satellite phone?" April gave a humored toss of her head, "You know that's cheating, right?"

"There were stipulations?"

"Well, you can think of it as a 'no wishing for more wishes' kind of thing."

"So," he said slowly, "Just to clarify: the solar powered laptop and satellite phone are a little excessive?"

Her gaze rounded back at him.

"Careful with that brain of yours, Donnie, you might cut a diamond."

It was only through a decade of practice that Donatello was able to conceal his smirk as he flirted with the edge of her patience. He reconsidered his answer.

"Okay, let me think – I can have nothing to escape the island with, is that correct?"

"Yep. No satellite phones, helicopter or yachts. " She thought a moment, rattling the ice chips in her cup, "Actually, I think the whole point is not necessarily about escaping. Just, you know, what you'd take to pass the time."

He gave an exaggerated rub of his chin.

"Just my wits and three things, eh?"

"Donnie, you are quite welcome to add your wits. Maybe they will help you make a decision."

She finished that thought with a gurgling last sip of her drink. Donatello glanced over:

"Done there?"

She tipped the cup upwards: "All post-mixed out."

"Let me."

Curious, she passed it over. With the payload in hand, he took a short running jog up to an alley way ahead of them, springing over the barbed-wire tipped fence, before landing with a near-silent pat of his feet. After a quick scan to check the enclosed quad was safe, he propped open the dumpster and tossed in the spent cups. He was back by her side a moment later. Noticing the look on her face, he returned an apologetic grimace.

"A little too conspicuous?"

"No, it's just…" she said, glancing over her shoulder at the ten foot high fence, "sometimes I forget how agile you are."

He slipped his mittens back on.

"I make it a point to occasionally get out of the lab and into training." He paused to correct himself, "Or more accurately, Leo makes it a point to occasionally get me out of the lab and into training."

"No kidding." They walked a few steps before she added, "You know, there is a trash can up ahead."

He squinted up beside the lanes of sluggish traffic.

"There is?" he asked innocently. She dressed him down with a withering stare.

"Okay, Donnie, I know what you're doing. Stop stalling."

The plea went unheard:

"So… we're still talking about a deserted island, not a desert island, correct? How big is this island? Are we talking several square miles and an abundance of coconut trees?"

"Did anyone ever tell you you're no fun?"

He grinned: "Constantly. Daily. Have you met my brothers?"

"Alright, smart-guy. How about this? Answer the question before I revoke all wi-fi access at my place for the rest of the night. I know it'd kill you, so don't mess with me."

They both knew he could hack in without breaking a sweat - but that was besides the point.

"Okay, okay," he chuckled, "Here it it: A Leatherman, a technical manual on boat construction... and maybe a record of Boston's Greatest Hits." He shrugged, "Just to comply with the terms of the question."

Their footsteps continued steadily amid April's determining silence. Finally, it passed her unspoken test.

"I'd almost say that's cheating if I didn't know how entertaining you find technical manuals."

"Guilty as charged." came his easy confession.

"But, just one thing... how exactly are you going to play that record, genius?"

Donatello's eyes spooled wide. Logic hole. An obvious one, too. One of April's greatest strengths as a scientist was detecting redundancies in code. Something that made her a gifted programmer in her own right.

"I'm sure I could build..." he made a box shape with his arms, "something to get it working."

"Sounds to me like the only thing you'd be playing with that record is Frisbee."

That game point was all hers. His mouth fell open as he waited for divine reason to come pouring out. It didn't. If that wasn't a horrifying thought about his one and only LP left unbroken by Michelangelo, nothing was. Next strategy: diversion.

"Alright, O'Neil. I answered within the T's and C's. Your turn."

"My three things to take to a deserted island? Hmmm…." Deep in thought, she paced onwards. Finally she spoke: "You've got a Leatherman and a manual on boat construction, is that right?"

"Correct."

"Easy. Swap out that Boston record... and I'd take you."

"Me?"

He hoped he didn't sound as shocked as he felt, her answer almost enough to resurrect long-buried and long-forgotten sentiments of being special to her. Just as quickly, he filed the errant thought away.

"Oh," April added as an afterthought, "I may even just bring a record player along, too."

Silently, he thanked all deity's above at something tangible he could riff off. He reentered normality at break-neck speed.

"Solar-powered?"

April upturned her slender fingers, "Naturally."

"But, ah… four things." he said, "That's four things: Leatherman, boat manual, record player and... uh, and me."

A sickle of her teeth flashed in the dark: "Four? Oh! Well, who needs that boat manual anyway? I'm sure you could 'build something' without it."

"You could always ditch the record player. Being no record and all."

"That would make sense, wouldn't it?" she glanced back up at him with a cryptic expression, finally adding, "I guess we both suck at this game."

Donatello gave her a sidelong glance. She was all nervous energy brimming to spill. It was little wonder she wanted fresh air. He took a few steps more before answering -

"I suppose we should probably make it a point to not to get abandoned in the first place."

Before she could respond, her attention was snagged by the glimpses of water in the distance. April tilted her chin forward.

"Here we are."

He glanced up, amazed to find themselves already at the edge of the park. They stepped past the perimeter, following a wide tree-lined path through the grassy lawns to the promenade. Dying leaves rattled like whispered secrets above them. And despite the hour, streams of people still wandered around, the ratio more than enough to keep them disguised in plain sight. They arrived quickly at the railing that trimmed the East River and stopped, the faint sound of lapping water beside them.

"That was fast." he said, mostly to himself.

"And it only took three blocks to pry an answer from you."

She took a breath in.

The crisp air coming off the water carried the life of the city- brackish and interspersed with the stench of diesel and waste, all atop the piquant smell of carbon monoxide. In the distance a ferry shuttled its crammed passengers away. Behind them, beyond the boundary of the park, people and traffic bustled by the thousands. The soft hum of engines carried in the distance. Donatello smiled, unsure if he could ever be happier than in this moment.

"You were right." he admitted quietly, "Either Sensei's training has literally rendered me invisible, or people just don't see me."

April turned to him, her scarf flapping over her left shoulder. She flipped it back with a grin of her own.

"Obviously a little column A and a little column B."

"Hm. I hate to upend your theory, but..." he tilted his head in her direction, "You see me."

April's rebuttal was swift: "But I have the advantage of knowing you. So it stands to reason that I can't unsee you. Face it, Donnie. You're stuck with me."

Donatello stifled a chuckle and cast his attention back over the river, where a distant line of Ferries were already making for the port. In the evening they seemed magical, floating specks of light crossing the mysterious and dark threshold that divided the eastern boroughs.

"I guess there could be worse things."

At that, April started: "Worse things! Worse things? Oh, tell me, please, what these worse things are?"

"Welll..." Donatello drew the word out, "How about stepping on a Lego piece?"

"Lego?"

"Mikey." he supplied promptly. Nearly thirty years old and his brother's Star Wars lego sets still adorned his room. None of them would have it any other way.

"I'd try and think of something a little worse than that, if I were you."

"Running out of milk? Raph's late night cereal munchies have resulted in more black coffees than I care to remember. Blech. Or - how about Leo's four-in-the-morning, middle-of-winter, impromptu training sessions?"

April gave a pointed roll of her eyes, "You should be ashamed of yourself, pushing my buttons."

"How could I resist a good scientific inquiry?"

"Oh," she said with a quick tilt of her head, "the classic case of provocation of a test subject just for a response, is it?! You, my friend, need to get out of that lab more often."

"Trust me. As long as you see me, I'm certainly alright if the rest of the world doesn't."

His words were as honest as he felt. They hit hard and without intention. April's face fell. She blinked, almost in shock, before dropping her chin to her arms in thought. There she stayed, stooped at the railing, staring morosely at the churning water of a landing ferry. They watched on in silence as the thinning line of commuters boarded. Guilt twisted in his stomach, but for what reason, he could not be certain. After a time, she spoke.

"Donnie, you deserve that the world sees you. You are one of the most remarkable people I've ever known." She splayed her fingers across her face, "It's just not right."

Donatello fell beside her, watching as the ferry became a pinprick in the night. Ever since they had met her, ever since they had known her, she had been on their side. In a world of billions, she was an all but extinct species.

"I meant what I said, April." Donatello said gently, "I survive okay; better than many others. You could even say that my family has carved out some kind of a niche for ourselves."

A niche was a funny word for a life, but there it was. But his humor was not lost on her.

"Darwinian, is it?"

Donatello gave a conceding nod, "Something very much like that."

April snickered softly into her arms and stood back up.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised that the most level-headed person I know would take things in their stride."

"Hey, someone needs to be the sensible one."

An upward flick of her brow indicated otherwise.

"I've been around for too many of your 72 hour working sprees to give you a pass on 'sensible'. I hope, at least, your brothers have been forcing you into getting some sleep."

"Aside from helping with the cycle, they haven't been around too much." he confessed with a genial shrug, "The appliances have been on an accident free running streak for about, oh, let me think... about three weeks, now."

Impressed, she let forth a sound caught somewhere between a heh and a grunt of approval. The previous record had not even broke two.

"And tell me, has all that free time meant you've been staying up less or more?"

Donatello remained tight-lipped. There was no need for her to know he was heading into hour 43 already. After all, the heat-seeking shuriken weren't going to build themselves. The design was so simple it was ingenious, really. He and his brothers were several degrees cooler than a normal human body, which meant the stars could be launched with disregard to friendly fire. He had already planned on incorporating the tech into several items in their armory. Whether or not they needed the upgrades anymore was completely irrelevant.

"It's hard to say…"

To his dismay, April deciphered his ruse in an instant.

"That's what I thought." She took hold of his upper arms, "Promise me you'll get some rest at frequent intervals for sane amounts of time. You're not infallible, Donnie. I worry about you."

He agreed with a slight dip of his head. And meant it.

She let out a relieved sigh.

"Good."

"I've been making some upgrades on some of our weapons arsenal." he revealed quietly, "It's been keeping me up a bit more than usual. That's all."

"Still?"

"It never hurts to be prepared. I don't care what the terms of the truce say. Leo's heart is in a good place, but who's to say it's in the right place?"

"Donnie - don't tell me you're still thinking about that? How long has it been? Six... seven years?"

"Seven." he confirmed, "In March."

"Seven? Geez. I didn't think you still really thought about it."

Donatello gave a soft snort and turned away. "I did. I do."

April kicked up a foot and rested it on the base of the promenade wall. She almost appeared to be enjoying the view but the mention of the incident transported them both back in time to the very night it happened. She reached up and touched by her temple, where the scar had long since faded.

"It's funny. I don't remember much of it."

"I was terrified." he said softly, "We thought we had lost you."

It felt as fresh as yesterday since they had been viciously attacked by a particularly competent rogue splinter of the Foot. The fight had been bloody. None of them had escaped without injury. And despite his best effort to protect her, April had been collateral damage of the battle. It had almost been a permanent arrangement. That terrible night had also been what had prompted an unstable truce with their former enemies, and the eventual eradication of the offshoot. But the moment April had been hurt, he knew he would never trust either again.

His hand clenched at the top railing until his knuckles paled. From afar, her voice drifted in:

"We've been through some real shit, haven't we?"

Donatello blinked. From trans-dimensional travel to alien battles and beyond. If only one situation stood out as exceptional. His mouth drew tight and with all his vocabulary, only one word could contain the royal flush of bizarre situations they had been dealt over the last decade:

"Yep."

"I mean, some hair-raising, toe-curling shit." She reiterated with an almost proud grin, "And here we are. We made it."

A distasteful snort left his nose, "To think, of all the things we've done, it was the Foot that…"

almost killed you.

He couldn't finish. He couldn't even bear the thought. He released a staggered sigh, almost not noticing April placing a hand on his arm. He stopped and glanced back at her. Concern had set in her features.

"I always knew you were coming. That's what I do remember."

The earnestness in her voice brought him to his senses. And he knew, like he always had - he would do anything in his power to protect her.

"I think... April, sometimes I think you put us to shame in the bravery department."

She collected her shoulder into his.

"You'd better believe it. I didn't spend the better part of a decade hanging around ninjas to be just the girl."

"'Just the girl'." he said under a quiet breath, "If only you knew."

"Oh? Knew what, exactly?"

Donatello shifted on his feet, trying to put into words the enormity she played in their lives.

"Well, first of all, I can't even count on my fingers the times you saved our shells. And not just from physical threat, either. You give us insight that none of us have. You connect us to the world in a way that the rest of my family can't. You care about us. Thusly: You're invaluable."

"Y-you really think that?" she stuttered in surprise.

"All of us do." he confirmed with a nod, "And that's even adjusting for all the times you have almost killed us in that van, because I'm not going to lie - you drive like a maniac on fire. But believe me, there's nothing we wouldn't do for you."

April shook her head and gave a dark chuckle, "A maniac on fire, hey? For your information, I happen to know a very smart guy that has developed a mutagen that can liquefy flesh. So just remember that."

"Sounds like the kind of person I'd get along with."

"Oh, I don't know about that." she teased with a dazzling grin, "He can be kind of a dork sometimes."

"Give me a name, April. I'll make sure he never bothers you again."

April spoke quietly into the night, "That would be a shame."

They captured each others gaze and a lifetime flashed before them: their years of friendship. Their times of grief and joy. Failures and success. The aching uncertainty of the future. Countless moments went by in silence before something forbidden lurched in his heart. Donatello moved quickly to quash it. He cleared his throat, calling an end to battle.

"Maybe we should head back? Before it gets too late."

The suggestion left her shaking her head. Red curls tumbled across her shoulder.

"How about we go a little further? I know this spot with the nicest view."

.