Enjoy my dear readers, a little bit of everything is in this chapter. We'll get back to GP soon so don't worry! :)

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Chapter 10 The Missing Son

13 years ago….

Once inside the tunnel Splinter flicked his ears back and forth and listened. Only the sounds of the sewers echoed about him. Relaxing a little, the father ushered his sons down the tunnel. He'd taken the left bend when he heard footsteps splash down the tunnel he had just left.

Fear instantly flushed through him. Had someone heard them? Seen them? The splashing feet got nearer and the giant rat panicked acting purely out of instinct and the need to protect his family. His hold tightening on Raphael and Michelangelo he glanced down at Leonardo of Donatello. "Run!" he said urgently.

Leonardo nodded, immediately hitching his younger brother's hand closer to himself. Without further word Splinter dived down the tunnel and sensed his sons following close behind. He took several twists and turns, taking a longer and more convoluted way back to their home. For a moment he stopped, his chest heaving and his senses on fire as he dipped his ears to hear and sniffed at the air to catch any foreign scent.

"Chichi?"

Splinter glanced down as Donatello called nervously to him.

"Are we, safe now?"

The once man nodded before he answered. "Yes kodomo, yes I believe we ar-"

SPLASH! Splash, splash, splash, splash, SPLASH!

Splinter gasped and his sons looked down the way they had come and then to him.

"Wh-who is that?!" Donatello squeaked as his eldest brother drew him closer.

For the first time in front of them, Splinter found himself shamefully fumbling. Heart hammering hard in his chest, the rat shook his head. "I-I don't-"

The wet footsteps seemed to get closer and he felt Michelangelo squeeze his new teddy bear and whimper almost fearfully. That decided it. "Come now! Run my sons!"

Once more Splinter took off hugging the two tots that he held tightly. Leonardo with his younger brother were right at his heels when he glanced back. He ducked and weaved down various tunnels and came to an abrupt halt as he paused to get his bearings. His heightened senses would get them all home safe and sound. Michelangelo's teddy suddenly squeaked and the toddler let out a panicked cry. Splinter absently hushed the child, as his whiskers twitched and his nose tried to pick up the smell of lair. His youngest son then unexpectedly lurched over his shoulder and the soft toy squeaked once more.

"Yame!" he muttered under his breath at the child as he shifted his hold on the suddenly wriggling boy.

A familiar scent drifted on the pungent sewer air and although the splashing had diminished behind him, Splinter wasn't going to take the lack of sound for granted. He snatched up Leonardo's hand and pulled the toddler. "Come! Home is close!" he took off at an alarming pace, his parental instinct and need to seek familiar shelter overriding the simple fact that his young children could not run as fast as he could. Leonardo yelped but Splinter paid it little heed, putting it down to the strange foot splashing that had once chased after them. "Nearly home," he called out. "We're nearly there!" he tried to reassure.

Then Michelangelo let out a distressed cry. Raphael suddenly began to struggle for some unfathomable reason. He pounded strong little fists on his shoulders calling out something that he couldn't make out. The tantrum! He wanted that blasted red cloth back didn't he. There was no time for this! They were almost home!

"Yame Raphael!" he admonished through panting breaths. "Not now!"

The scent got stronger and Splinter's heart leapt. He jumped for a side passage and suddenly found himself on the train tracks. He didn't stop, even as his children all yelped and cried at him. He saw the abandoned station up ahead and took a flying leap, whipping his tail to the side to aid his two running children up onto the platform. He staggered through the nearest turnstile and finally allowed himself to breathe. He fell to his knees releasing Michelangelo and Raphael.

Eyes closed Splinter took deep breaths and let his body sag as the adrenaline rush ebbed away and left his muscles feeling limp and weak. For some reason his ears were ringing and for a good few minutes he closed off every sense to what was happening around him. Then the ringing faded and young urgent voices met his ears.

"Chichi! Chichi!"

It was only when his body listed to the side that he realised that one of his children was pulling on his kimono. He frowned, he really had to teach them to stop doing that. "Yame," he said as he tugged his arm back and rubbed the side of his face.

"Chichi! CHICHI!"

"What?!" he suddenly snapped and looked down to the culprit. He blinked when he realised it was his eldest.

Leonardo stepped back at the tone and his bottom lip wobbled.

Splinter immediately regretted his sharp tone and raised a hand to the little one's back and patted it lightly. "I'm sorry Leonardo, what is it my son?"

Leonardo flexed his fists at his sides, the onset of tears glimmering on the surface of his deep blue eyes. "Chichi, Don-nie." He raised a chubby hand and pointed back the way they had come.

Splinter's eyes widened. He looked round at his sons and counted- three. Oh no. No. He hadn't- He couldn't have- He didn't-

An iron fist tightened about his chest and squeezed. For a moment the father couldn't even breath. He'd lost one them. He'd lost one of his precious sons. He had lost Donatello. It took all his strength not to break down. He had to go back and look for him. For the sake of his family he had too...

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Present day...

There was a notably long and uncomfortable silence that followed Splinter's confession. Michelangelo was the one who unwittingly broke it, much to the father's relief.

"Did you go back and look for him?"

"I did."

"What did you find?"

Splinter sighed deeply. "Nothing. Nothing but that cloth in April's hands."

"How long did you look for Donatello?" Leonardo prompted.

"Weeks, no, months. I searched for you brother for months whilst you slumbered in your cots then I found that purple cloth and I-," Splinter's voice hitched. "Forgive me, I thought the very worst. From the only evidence I could find I thought he had hit his head and had fallen into the water somewhere," tears threatened, glimmering in his amber tinted eyes. "I feared he had drowned, and I was not there to save him," he turned away not trusting his emotions to crease his features into the tortured anguish and guilt it wanted to express.

"Master Splinter?" He sensed the young girl behind him.

"Yes my child?" he said as levelly as he could.

"I know where he is."

Splinter's ears pricked and he turned back , seeing all eyes were now rested upon her. "Where child?"

"At Stocktronics Corporation. He said he was raised in a lab and that his father was-," she hesitated for a moment.

"His father is who?" Leonardo asked.

"Baxter Stockman."

Splinter blinked. He recalled newscasts he had caught on the television, on how some of the scientists various devices that had been made available to the public had questionable developmental techniques involved in their manufacture. Could Donatello somehow be included in this? How had Baxter Stockman even found his gifted child? Was he being used? Or did he willingly help create some of those 'questionable' products? Stop. Stop. He was getting ahead of himself.

"Baxter Stockman? That whack job billionaire inventor? How the heck did he get his hands this other turtle?"

"That 'other turtle' is your brother Raphael," Splinter said sternly.

"Says you," Raphael returned impudently.

The stare that Splinter shot his hot headed son snapped the boy into immediate silence but the want to say more simmered just beneath his twitching expression.

"How Baxter Stockman acquired Donatello is at the present time, unimportant my sons. What you must do is find him. Bring your brother home."

Leonardo frowned, an obvious question looming once more. "But if April's right and Donatello is at the main Stocktronics Corporation building, how are we supposed to get inside? We don't know how to 'hack' things! I bet that entire place is stuffed with computer security systems, especially if he has Donatello in a lab somewhere in there."

"Er, couldn't we just wait for Stackmon to trash another warehouse or somethin'?"

"Don't be stupid Mikey!" Raphael cuffed his little brother about the back of the head. "How do we even know it was Stockman inside that pod? And even if he was, we don't even know if he'll bring the oth-, him," he quickly corrected himself. "With him."

Splinter observed quietly as April then had her say. "From all the information I've managed to track down, I definitely think there is a pattern to the attacks and it was Baxter Stockman inside the Pod."

"How do you even know that?" Raphael challenged.

"Because Donatello spoke to him on a headset. He was operating something called 'the plasma shielding' on the Pod. He called him father and when he wasn't fast enough activating it, his father shocked him somehow."

"Shocked him? How?"

"With a collar, shock collar."

At those words Splinter felt himself bristle. "Someone who shocks their child with a collar is NOT a father," he all but growled. "You need to find him my sons, you need to rescue your brother and bring him home," he reiterated.

"Hai sensei," Leonardo replied instantly. He waved everyone to follow as he left.

As they did Splinter overheard Raphael's final words before they all disappeared. "Well, he may be Master Splinter's son, but he ain't my brother!"

Splinter sighed and shook his head. As he returned the photograph that Michelangelo had left back on the shelf his thoughts wandered back to how. How did he lose Donatello? He sniffed guiltily. He would probably never know exactly how he had lost his precious Donatello, he probably never would...

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The one thing that had always been constant in little Donatello's short life was the strength and love of his father. He was always so steadfast and sure. He took everything in his stride and was never shaken. He always knew what to do. Now though? The tot wrung his hands uncertainly. He had never seen his father scared. Not once. When he asked who was following them, his father didn't know but he had to! His father knew everything! Didn't he? He was just so clever. He could do anything.

When chichi looked down at him with worried eyes and spoke in a stammering voice Donatello shied against his eldest brother who took him in closer. Seeing his parent frightened was something that scared him even more than those awful splashy footsteps.

Michelangelo whimpered on chichi's shoulder and suddenly. "Come now! Run my sons!"

Little Donatello ran as best he could, holding on to his older brother's hand for dear life. Leonardo was so much faster than he was. They ran for what seemed like forever but finally they stopped. The tot shivered with fatigue as he gulped some much needed air into his lungs.

He noted his father scenting the airs, whiskers aquiver and ears constantly flicking. Were they safe yet? He couldn't hear the footsteps any more. Maybe they were. There was suddenly a familiar squeak and Donatello saw the teddy bear he had found for his little brother fall out of his grasping hands.

"I've got it!" he yelped and let go of Leonardo's hand.

Leonardo called to him to take his hand again, reaching out earnestly but he was only picking up Michelangelo's teddy. There was no harm in that? He reached up and not being able to reach despite his height threw the toy back up. Michelangelo lurched over their father's shoulder and grabbed the bear with a glad smile and a thank you squeak.

He had just reached back to grasp Leonardo's hand when chichi abruptly snatched up his eldest sibling's wrist and took off once more. "Come! Home is close!"

Donatello's chubby digits had only just locked about one of Leonardo's but the pace of his father was far too fast. His feet barely touched the moist ground when the inevitable finally happened. He tripped. His fingers were jolted out of Leonardo's and the forward momentum sent him flying into the cold sewer water. He cried out as his right arm caught something hidden in the dark puddle. As he pulled himself upright, the shock of the fall brought tears to his eyes. The pain shortly followed as he felt a trickle of warmth down his forearm. His hand automatically clutched at it and looked up with pained, bleary eyes.

The pained stare soon became a look of panic as he realised his father hadn't stopped. "Chichi! CHICHI!" he all but shrieked.

His brothers all stared back at him, trying in their own ways to stop their father's flight. It was to no avail, his brothers' cries and his father's footsteps quickly diminished into the distance and Donatello was suddenly left all alone.

"Chichi! Chichi come back!" he shouted desperately but it was no good. Something told him that it wasn't going to work.

The toddler bit down on his bottom lip and looked down the tunnel in front of him. The fear quivered in his breast. What was he to do? Well, there was only one thing that he could do. Stay where he was. That way his father was sure to find him again.

Donatello then raised his sore arm and looked at the hand that had gripped it. Blood shone up from his fingers in the meagre light. The sudden sight caused more tears to well in his eyes. Chichi would have known what to do. He twisted his arm to spot the wound and saw a cut on the side of his wrist. He then remembered what chichi had done when Michelangelo had slipped and scraped his knee. Without hesitation the toddler tugged the purple cloth from about his neck and tore off a strip as carefully as he could. He folded it into a square and pressed it against his arm. A soft whimper slipped out and the child peered out into the darkness again.

Donatello had no concept of how long he stood there before he perched on a jutting brick. It felt like a long, long time and the longer he waited the more frightened he got. "Chichi will come, he will," he said in a small voice blinking back the dampness in his eyes. He lifted the cloth from his arm and inspected for the fourth time. The bleeding had stopped. The cut wasn't all that bad but it still hurt. The toddler bit his bottom lip and carefully placed the bloody fabric on a dry patch beside him.

The boy sniffed and shifted about as the brick began to get hard and uncomfortable. A sudden squeaking sounded nearby and Donatello leapt to his feet. What was that?! He searched the blackness and a pair of glittering eyes blinked just ahead of him. A sewer rat scampered close by, glancing up at the turtle tot before scurrying on its way. A slight smile caught Donatello's mouth but just as quickly it vanished as he was immediately reminded of his father.

"Chichi," he whimpered and a soft sob jolted in his throat. Tears escaped and the babe slumped against the wall behind him. He wiped his snout with the back of his hand as the gentle sobs continued. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see his brothers. He wanted his father!

"Hello?"

Startled from his sadness Donatello looked up and gasped as he saw a figure at the end of the tunnel before him. He squinted at the shadow, canting his head slightly. It wasn't his father. He bit his bottom again and shied backwards a step as the dark figure slowly approached.

"Hey little fella," the voice sounded again as they drew closer. Too close really. "How did you get down he-"

It was a man! Maybe he knew where his father was? It was only after the nice man offered him books to read and played a number game with him that Donatello felt hopeful again. The man said he would find his chichi and take him to his home and read to him whilst they waited.

Everything was going to be alright now. He would see his father and his brothers and everything would be great. He just knew it!

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