Wow. I wasn't expecting my story to be so enjoyed. Thanks everyone.

Not much to say here. Thanks to Super Kat for beta reading for me!

Enjoy.

"Raph?"

Startled, the red-masked turtle caught hold of the punching bag as it began to swing back at him. Once it was stationed, he grabbed a nearby towel and inhaled deeply before turning to look at the one who had addressed him.

Donatello stood, staring at his older brother quizzically as he tried to formulate something to say. "You probably shouldn't be performing that kind of physical activity right before going to bed," he stated. At this point, he wanted to keep as much neutrality in the exchange as he could.

Annoyance crept into the rebel's features, and he finally broke eye contact to wipe the beads of sweat from his brow. "Yeah well…" he replied, "I didn' know when I was actually gonna go t'bed anyway."

Raph's tone immediately alerted Don to the trouble that he was in, but he still bit his tongue. Did he dare try to explain himself? "What are you doing up so late, Raph?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Raphael retorted, crossing his arms.

The olive terrapin fingered the strap of his duffle bag. "You know that I just got back from Leatherhead's. And I called earlier to let you guys know I'd be home late tonight…"

"Yeah, I remember. And after you called, Splinter wanted someone to wait up for you to get back. I doubt he woulda figured you'd be gettin' here at three in the morning!"

Don winced a little. "I know, I'm sorry…We just lost track of the time, that's all. I'm sorry that you had to wait for me for so long. We didn't realize how late it had gotten until I was starting to come back."

"I'm su'prised Leatherhead didn' kick ya out earlier." As his fingers drummed against his arm, the hothead studied the embarrassed and uncomfortable look in the younger one's expression, Don shifted his weight from one foot to the other like a child being scolded by his parent. And Raph wasn't fond of the role he was being forced to play in this particular scene.

With a sigh, his arms dropped to his sides. "Y'know, Donnie, you've been goin' to Leatherhead's place a lot more 'n usual these couple a' weeks, and you've been stayin' out later ev'ry time. What's up with that?"

"He's been helping me with a few projects that I've been struggling with," the inventor answered, more insistently than he had intended to be. "We've been working on different ones a little at a time, so it's taking longer to complete any of them."

While his stern gaze didn't waver, Raphael couldn't claim that he was particularly upset with his intelligent brother. After all, Don was only doing something he loved to do, and it was easy for him to get lost in his work. He couldn't honestly blame him for that. Still, Raphael couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right…

That was when he noticed his brother's weapon. Instead of strapped behind Don's shell as it normally was, the wooden bo was clenched in an olive hand with one end firmly pressed into the ground. Don seemed to support part of his weight with the staff.

Suspicion rising inside him, the jade terrapin quickly crossed the small distance between them. He raised his hand and touched the back of it to Don's forehead…and promptly snatched it back.

"Don, yer burnin' up!" he exclaimed, rubbing to cool the part of his hand that came in contact with the other's skin. For it had felt as though he had rested it on a blazing stove.

"I…I'm not sure what happened," the younger one said softly. "I was fine all day today, but it was only after I left Leatherhead's and was on my way back when I started feeling strange."

Raph glowered, but it was easy to figure out that he was telling the truth. He hadn't seen his brother since earlier that morning, and their sensei wouldn't have allowed him to go if he had already been sick. Plus Leatherhead wouldn't have kept him for so long if Don had gotten sick while he was over there. And if that had happened, then Leatherhead would have gone along with him to make sure he got to the lair in one piece.

But knowing all that did nothing to reassure him. Leatherhead's place wasn't too far from the lair. So how could his brother have gotten so feverish in such a short amount of time? Or…what if Don had left the subway earlier and had collapsed along the way back? What if that was the real reason Don was back so late? Who knows what could have happened then?

Furiously he shook his head. Worrying like that was Leo's job, not his. Still, his concern for his brainy brother was enough, and he knew that something must be done in order to help the other.

"I'm gettin' Splinter," he stated.

He didn't get very far, however, as two hands quickly grasped his wrist and held him back. "Raph, don't!" Donatello pleaded softly. "It's really late, and we shouldn't wake him. I'm sure I'll be fine until morning, so you can just tell him later, okay?"

The hothead scoffed, pulling his wrist out of the other's hold and crossing his arms over his plastron once more. Why did his brother have to be so stubborn about this? Not that he was one to talk, but…Why couldn't Don just take better care of himself? Maybe if he did, they wouldn't be in this kind of position in the first place.

But that's just the way Donnie was. And it was too late – or perhaps too early – to try and argue. With a final huff, he replied, "Fine. But only if you get yer shell inta bed."

The intelligent teen's answer was one that he had already expected. "But I still have to put some things away before going to bed, and…"

Raph wouldn't hear any of it. "You. Bed. Now."

"But, Raph…I…oh…" The younger brother's weak protests finally died as he was vigorously ushered to his room. Vaguely Raphael wondered if this was the kind of annoyance that their father experienced daily trying to raise the four of them, and he wondered just how the rat put up with it all the time.

Guiding the purple-clad ninja towards the bed, he then pointed to the duffle bag and said, "Here, gimme that."

Don hesitated as he placed his hand to his bag. He eyed the other warily, almost as though worried about what his brother would do with it. After several moments of internal debating, he finally pulled the strap over his head. "Just be careful with it," he warned as he cautiously handed it over. "The equipment in there is delicate, and if it breaks I'll be trying to put it back together for a month."

Rolling his eyes, Raphael took the bag and gingerly placed it on the nearby desk. "There, ya happy?"

"Well, at least you didn't drop it…" Stifling back a yawn, the young scientist threw back the covers and all but collapsed into his bed, exhaustion taking over as he buried his face into his pillow.

The rebel lingered for a moment, unsure of what to do now. He had intended to remain for a while longer in order to make sure his brother actually went to sleep, for he worried that as soon as he left the room Don would get up and start working on whatever it was in his bag. But his own exhaustion was beginning to catch up to him, begging for the sleep he had been denied for most of the night. Luckily for him, the soft snore that reached his ears told him that the other had instantly fallen asleep. With a sigh, he reluctantly walked closer to the bed and gently pulled the blanket over the now-shivering form.

Observing for a minute longer as the younger turtle slept, he then touched his hand to the other's forehead once more. He didn't pull back this time, but it was difficult not to. It was such an intense heat, and he had to wonder how it must have felt to Don. He couldn't imagine how uncomfortable it must have been.

And he wasn't afraid to admit to himself that he was concerned. What if something had happened to Donatello on his way back? He certainly had made it back all right, but there had still been that chance for some disaster to strike, and that's what bothered Raph the most. Why hadn't he called when he was feeling so sick? Well, maybe he figured that they had all gone to bed and hadn't wanted to wake them. But if he had just called, anyone would have gone to get him knowing that he had fallen ill again.

Raph had to contend with the idea that his younger brother had traveled by himself with that kind of fever without anyone knowing. Plus now he would have to be the one to tell the others what happened, and he could just imagine how Master Splinter and Leo were going to take the news. Questions would be asked, most of which he wouldn't be able to answer and would probably just set his already-frazzled nerves on edge. And then the rest of the day would be spent taking care of Don, who would more or less put up a fight if Splinter wanted him to stay in bed.

Raph sighed, rubbing his weary eyes. Morning was going to be hell…

The evening was much darker than it should have been as eerie thick clouds above shadowed the light of the moon. Heavy rain poured and further obscured the surrounding area, bending and twisting the city's lights before sending them back into the darkness where they disappeared. The droplets drowned out all other sounds and drenched anything that was caught by their chilling touch.

But the lone figure continued on his way, undeterred by the storm and its black hold on the world. The destination was already set in his mind, and he wouldn't allow anything to stop him from reaching it. Using his wooden staff to support his weakened body, he carefully walked along the water-slick path.

A couple years after you disappeared, Master Splinter gave his life protecting the three of us…

His body tightened as he froze for a brief moment, hearing the words echo in his memories once again.

We already tried that Donnie. How do you think we lost Casey?

It was always the same. Everything he heard always played the same way in his mind, and so he knew what would follow next. So he ran, desperate to reach his planned destination, for the words that followed were always the most painful.

Donnie! Donnie, I'm – uhn – AAAAAAAAAGH!

His heart pounded in his chest…

UUUUUUUGH…! Ugh…ah…

…his breath quickened…

Leo…! Leo! Huuuur…ugh…ah…

…And he finally arrived at his long-awaited place. His pace slowed to a stop, and he tried to calm his heavy breathing as he studied the secluded area past the falling rain and through the darkness. Standing in the clearing, a soothing tranquility swept through him and calmed the chaotic memories.

When he was first brought to that place a while back, he had committed it to memory. Then after they had all returned and everything had more or less settled down, he sought out to locate the area, retracing the steps that had only been taken once in another world. But it was still the same place, and not even thirty years could change it.

And somehow, he found himself frequently returning to the spot when he wanted a quiet place to think and clear his head. It was hard to explain the peaceful feeling that overcame him every time he visited the site, and he found it strangely ironic considering how he became acquainted with the spot in the first place.

Master Yoshi used to bring him here to the park, back in the day. It's not the safest place…but it's where Sensei wanted to be buried.

With a sigh, Donatello leaned back against a nearby tree as his eyes struggled to focus on a single spot. The ghost of the grave marker stood there, much easier to see than the surrounding water-beaten area. But even as he stared at the memory, the peculiar serenity did not waver. And he readily embraced it, for he knew it would only last for as long as he stood in that place.

He needed it, now especially, as he tried to sort through the lingering remembrances of the deaths of all those in that other world. Those instances, the voices that spoke those final words…they were all coming back much more often lately. Seeing the forlorn gazes on the faces of those who spoke of Master Splinter or Casey…hearing the dying cries of his brothers as they breathed their last…haunting his thoughts and dreams once again. But this time…this time he knew the reason behind their plaguing occurrence.

Donatello was reminded of their deaths so often now…because he was one more step closer to his own.

He attempted to wipe the stream of water from his eyes. It had been several days since the second fever had hit and he had found Raphael waiting for up for him. But even though the fever had abated, he knew his family would not approve of him standing out in a storm, fearing he would grow ill again. What they didn't know, however, was that his ailment could not be affected by his outside environment. Two fevers had come and gone, and he expected more to fluctuate as time progressed, but none would have anything to do with common illness.

It wasn't a flu bug or a simple germ. It was caused by the remnants of a dangerous, artificial virus that for many others had since been cured.

All the same, he couldn't blame them for not knowing. After all, he still had yet to tell them of what was happening, despite Leatherhead's insistence and his own understanding that they had to learn the truth. The tests and trials that he and his crocodilian companion had performed during the preceding weeks had continuously proved null, and they were no closer to finding a solution than they had been when they started. Even during the days when he had been stuck at home with the second fever, Leatherhead had continued with experiments, but nevertheless found no positive results.

Before Donatello had realized it, an entire month had slipped away.

But that was why he had to come to that spot, downpour or not. He desired the calm that only this place could give him – the place that meant so much to Master Splinter, and now him as well – in order to sort through the disordered and confused thoughts that raged through his mind. He needed this momentary quiet to contemplate in order to determine the precise words to tell his family everything.

He had told Leatherhead that he wished to postpone informing his family about the current developments because he didn't want them to worry any further than they already had, and that had been true. After everything they had gone through on his behalf, he preferred to wait a while longer before forcing them to go through that same kind of experience again. However, it hadn't been the only reason he wanted to delay the news. He hesitated simply because he had no idea of how to tell them.

They had risked so much to save him the first time. How was he supposed to tell them that their efforts had all been for naught, and that despite it all he was still going to die?

Yet he knew that he had to tell them soon. While there was still five months left…while there was still some time left…it could easily fade away just as the first month had, and it could quickly become too late. And given the results of the testing that they've accomplished, even he was beginning to feel that nothing could be done to prevent the approaching end.

Even he was beginning to lose hope.

Truth to tell, though, he wasn't exactly certain how he felt about the recent turn of events. They had risked their lives constantly before, and there had always been the chance for death to take them. And after all, everyone died eventually. So to say that he was afraid of dying would have been dishonest. Perhaps this was not the way he had expected to expire, and he certainly would prevent it if he could, but he couldn't positively say that he was fearful of death…at least not yet.

But people hardly lived isolated. Those who passed away ordinarily left loved ones behind. And while it was truly upsetting when a person finally must surrender their life to the grave, they were no longer afflicted with any pain or burdens. In a way, death had set them free. All the suffering, all the regrets and torments that followed would be left to bear for those who were closest.

That was what terrified Donatello more than anything.

If he could just find a way to tell them….to let them know what was eventually goingto happen….then maybe it would help ease the pain slightly afterwards. There was still five months left, after all. Perhaps those last precious months could be spent getting closer to his family as possible, and hopefully they all could eventually come to terms with the inevitable. Maybe it wasn't very much time to deal with it all, but it was certainly better than nothing. Telling them now and giving them time to cope with it would surely be less painful than if he didn't and then – in their eyes – suddenly left them.

Plus if he told them soon, then it could possibly help prevent a future from breaking.

We were a team. Without you…it just didn't work.

Inhaling deeply as the thought entered his mind once again, he slowly released it to restore the tranquility he needed. In the beginning, it had never made any sense to him. He could never understand how his disappearance could trigger such a desolate world. He couldn't comprehend how his brothers – who he sometimes imagined might benefit better without him – could become so shattered within themselves that they drifted away from each other.

But he knew that if that could happen because of his disappearance, then it would certainly happen if one of them was suddenly taken away.

After witnessing the world of what could be, remnants of it lingered for weeks within his nightmares. He finally managed to accept it, though, and to work through the experience by making a promise.

If something ever happened to one of his brothers, leaving three of them behind, Donatello vowed that he would do everything in his power to ensure that the family would not collapse. He had seen first-hand what happened when a clan was divided, and to him it was not acceptable. If forced into that position, then he would do whatever it took to keep them together…to remind them that they should never turn their backs on those they most needed.

It was really the only advantage he had seen in his visit to the other world. Being able to see the effects of severing a family gave him the opportunity to try and prevent it. And now he had to make sure that the others had that same chance. He had to make sure that his family would not suffer after his departure the way they had in that frightful world.

That was why he had to tell them…

How the shell could you just abandon us like that?!

Everything.

And it had to be soon. Even if it wasn't going to be easy, all he could do was tell them the truth.

His head lifted slightly to look at the sky when the pressure of the rain suddenly eased. The storm was finally subsiding, shifting into a light drizzle as a forceful gust pushed the clouds to their next destination.

But even with the powerful wind and his soaked form, Donatello felt none of the surrounding chill. Instead, he felt a soothing touch washing over him, cooling the fire that was contained within since the passing of his first fever. It was a fleeting sensation, though, and the burning quickly returned. With a small sigh, he pushed himself away from the tree he was resting against, supporting himself with his bo as he began his trek home.

It was a slow tread back through the park, but he was thankful that the light rain allowed him to see with less difficulty. As he sauntered, he vaguely wondered if anyone had heard him leave before and were waiting up for him to return. Perhaps he should seek a persuasive excuse for his abrupt topside visit, just in case.

It was then that the mild fire in his chest exploded.

With a strangled cry, Donatello found himself forced to his knees by the burning pain that raged within, consuming his trembling body in a blazing sensation. The fiery torture rapidly spread throughout his entire being, and not even the rain could alleviate it now. The pain continued to push him down, trying to drive him further to the ground. His arms struggled to support his upper body while he fought to maintain consciousness.

'What's…happening to me?' he wondered, his mind racing as the internal flames tried to burn through his head. He gripped the sodden grass beneath his palms when understanding revealed itself. 'No…not now…Not now! I-it can't…This can't happen now!'

It was too soon for anything like this to happen. There was supposed to still be time left. He needed to get home. It wasn't supposed to be this way. He had to get home and tell them! Why did this have to happen now?!

Now…that he had snuck off to the park when he should have been resting at home. Now…when he had left his shell cell back at the lair because he assumed he wouldn't be gone for too long. Now…before he had a chance to explain everything.

And even after all that was happening, Fate still decided to twist the knife in his heart.

The soft gasp somehow tore through his turbulent inferno to reach his last remaining senses. His head shot up, and though the pain and drizzle combined to obscure his vision, he could at least see enough to make out the blurred figure that stood amidst the night, watching him intensely. If his heart hadn't been racing before, it certainly was at that moment.

With no strength left to do anything except finally give into the fire inside, he could only imagine the consequences of being seen by a person.

'I'm…I'm so sorry…everyone…'

Even as he slipped into nothingness, the darkness did nothing to relieve the burning pain.

TBC

Now, you didn't think I was going to make it easy for Don, did you?

Two things about the very ending of this chapter:
1) Don't assume anything at this point
2) Trust me. I know (almost) exactly what I'm doing.

So please review and let me know what you think. Later!