Six Months Gone

At the Lair

Raphael

I glance down at the weapon in my hand.

The smoothness of the wood. The strength it held. Reliable. Dependable. Just like Don really. I miss the quiet level-headedness of my younger brother, more than I ever thought I would.

Knowing that he was out there right now, who knows where, having who knows what done to him, caused the anger I try to control to come back to life.

Hearing the bidding on the bo creak as my grip tightened was all it took to drain it back out again. At least for right now.

I had started training with Don's spare bo as a way to stay connected to my missing brother. Especially after the nightmares I had three months ago.

The weapon was a perfect match for my brother and it brought a comfort I couldn't get anywhere else right now.

With a soft vow to my missing brother that they would find him and make who ever took him pay, I went back to training.

Michelangelo

I clutched the blanket close.

Sitting curled up on my bed, the blanket from Don's bed wrapped around my shoulders. The blanket reminded me of my missing brother. It was why I took it in the first place.

The gentle weight felt like the arms that would wrap around me after a nightmare. The soft fleece was like the gentle touch of those hands tending wounds and soothing troubles away. The fabric held the faint scent of exhaust fumes, smoke, sweat, and other things that I had always identified with Don.

Some times late at night I would close my eyes and the blanket would become Don. Some times it felt like my brother was actually there, holding me close, but then I would open my eyes and it would be the blanket, not Don's arms around my shoulders.

The tears would come and I would promise through them that we would find him and bring him home. Soon.

Leonardo

I sat on the meditation mat in the middle of the room.

The sounds of the room brought comfort I could not find else where in my home. The gentle hum of the computers running, the old rock tunes that came from the small stereo, the gentle creak of the computer chair, the soft tapping of fingers on the keyboard. I would smile as I heard these sounds.

As I finished my meditation these noises disappeared. My eyes opened to a silent room. I heaved a sigh as reality was remembered.

It was why I meditated in Don's room these days. Just so I could simply remember and to feel the calmness that this room always seemed to pulse with. Even when Don was at his most frantic working in here, the calmness never left.

As I left the room I pause at the threshold, like I had every night, to tell my missing brother to hold on just a little while longer, we would come to bring him home soon.

An unknown Facility

Donatello

The days pass slowly as I sit here in this cell. I do not know how many days have passed since I was first captured, but I do know that there has been 163 trips to the operating room, 163 sessions with 'Dr. Titan'.

His recent plan on getting me to speak, hallucination drugs.

He tried those for the first time on trip 159

At first I believed it. I had truly believed my brothers had come for me. But the instant I looked into 'Mikey's' eyes I knew something was wrong.

His eyes didn't sparkle with laughter or mischief and I could not feel the hand that held one of mine as we rode in the Battle Shell.

I could take the physical pain, but the mental and emotional pain would be my breaking point one day. That I knew for a fact.

So I sit here waiting, hoping…

But a new thought has begun to make its' presence known.

Last night I dreamed of the pain being so great, I gave up.

I allowed 'Dr. Titan' to break me.

After that dream, the thought of death remained in my foremost thoughts. Surfacing at first after the most painful of Titan's torture…

But I knew a day would come where that thought would take center stage in my mind.