Raph stirred first, his cheeks stiff from dried tears. He wasn't afraid to cry right now; in fact, he wanted to go tell Leo that he was an idiot. Mikey sat up as well, and reached for the diary. Instead of putting it away, though, Mikey put it in a bag to take to the farm.

"I wanna read more," he explained quietly. "Let's get this packed up."

Mutely, Raph nodded and took down some of the books from the shelves, the ones that seemed to be the most interesting. Their brother didn't have a single fantasy, fiction, or sci-fi book. Those, though, were his favorite types of shows on the television.

Oh, Leo, Raph thought sadly, running a thick finger over the spine of a book on World War I tactics and planning. What have we done to you?

Soon, they had the room packed up and the bags sitting neatly outside, the diary in the top of the right one. Mikey exchanged a look with Raphael and then visibly pulled himself together. A bright smile lit his face and he seemed carefree, though Raph could see the tension in his jaw and muscles.

Raph did the same, but instead of a smile was an indifferent sneer. "I'll help Don," he said gruffly. "You get the food and your stuff packed."

"But that's the same thing!" Mikey whined in a very Mikey-like voice.

"Get!" Raph growled, pounding off towards Donnie's lab. Leo was still sleeping on the couch when Raph glanced in to check on their leader.

"Hey, Raph." Don's voce greeted him distractedly. "Do you think you can move this machine here?"

"Sure thing, Donnie," Raph answered, lifting it experimentally. "Ya want it in the Battle Shell?"

"Yes. Make sure to bolt it down in the back. We're going to keep this in case Leo gets hurt or something. It's a full E.R. system in one machine. I thought it might be handy to have."

"Sure is. Hey, when we get there, you and I and Mikey need to talk." Don nodded absently as Raph told him this. "It's important."

"Okay," he agreed, still absorbed in a device he was tinkering with under a magnifying lens.

Raph smirked. Same old Don.

As Mikey helped Raph and Don make the Battle Shell better equipped for transporting a five-hundred pound turtle with wings that wouldn't close well, Leo was waking to his father's elderly voice.

"My son, we are leaving for the farm tomorrow. You must rest," Splinter argued when the blue-banded turtle stood up, his wings feeling better than they had in a long time.

"I will on the drive, Sensei," Leonardo answered. "For now, we must pack."

"Your brothers are taking care of such matters. You will need your strength to make the journey without overburdening your brothers. How do you feel, my son?"

"Well enough to help, Sensei. Please, may I? I will sleep better," Splinter's adopted eldest pleaded. The rat, knowing he could not keep Leonardo from helping when he wished to, nodded hesitantly.

Leonardo was gone, his wing tips hissing on the floor.

­­­"Wake up, sleepy!" a voice called, jarring Leonardo out of blissful release. Blearily, Leo sat up and rolled over, his wings pulling him off his low futon and into an ungraceful pile on the floor.

"Sorry!" Mikey apologized immediately, helping his brother off the cold ground. This winged turtle merely snorted and flicked the tips of his wings before following Mike out of his room silently. Donnie and Raph were waiting with Master Splinter in the Battle Shell.

Inside, it looked like an infirmary. Leo sat on the table as the door closed, and Raph helped him buckle his wings onto the table-like bed, lying down in the process. Don had explained that it was for their safety; if Leonardo crashed into them, he could hurt them badly.

Soon, Leo was asleep. His face was serene, as if was not often. Mike rubbed absent-minded circles on Leo's shell and was jolted out of his thoughts when their brother began purring again. Smiling, Mikey kept at his mini-massage and Leo purred hard enough to vibrate both of his entire wings.

"Could ya keep it down?" Raph grumped, sitting in his swivel chair and trying to fall asleep. They had left early because of the need for secrecy as they drove.

"No. I think it's cute," Mikey complained, still caressing Leonardo's shell, tracing the patterns in the plates but carefully around the wing joints, which were still tender and red.

"You would," Raph grumbled, getting up to sit on Leo's right side, opposite his brother. Master Splinter and Don were in the front, making sure they went the right way.

"Will he ever be able to be like he was?" Mikey asked timidly, stroking Leo's leathery wings.

"No, Mikey," Raph answered sorrowfully, recalling the diary they had found and read. "We're not gonna let him. And we can't just cut these wings off; that's like losing a couple of arms, if ya got four of 'em."

"I wouldn't want four arms. That'd mean you could beat me up even more with less effort!" Mike whined.

"I wouldn't, either," Raph assured him. "However, wings would be cool. I mean, only if they fit me."

"I'm guessing he'll grow to accommodate them." Don's tired voice floated gently back to them from the cab. "Or they'll shrink, but that's not very likely."

"Donnie, what happens if he does start growing? How big will he get?" Mikey asked, stroking Leo's sides. Raph grunted but his hand was trailing absently over his big bro's leathery wings.

"He'll eat a shell lot more," Don answered. Since he rarely cussed, it was an emphasis on how much Leonardo might begin eating. "And he'll grow to approximately Darkwing's original size, or perhaps bigger. Darkwing, from what I can recall, had wings almost as big as Leo's."

"A horse-sized turtle!" Raph groaned. "Great! Where'd we keep him? He wouldn't really fit in the lair."

"No, but we'll think about that if he gets to that size. From what I can discern right now, he's not growing at a fast rate yet. However, if he does, we have to make sure he eats about ten thousand calories per day, at the minimum."

"Shell," Raph whistled.

"From my study, if Leo grows, he'll do it so fast we might have to keep him eating constantly, especially high-calorie stuff like glucose and fat-filled foods." Don chewed at his lower beak, a sign he was worried. Raph rested a comforting hand on the braniac's shoulder.

"Don, you need some rest. Let me drive," Raph offered.

"You don't have a license," Donnie protested.

"So? It's early and we're in the middle of nowhere. We'll be fine. If I see a cop, we'll just hope he doesn't stop us. Okay?"

"Alright," Don accepted, pulling over and hopping into the back of the Battle Shell. Raph replaced him at the wheel, putting his seat belt on automatically.

Look at me. I'll run out and search for thugs to beat up and get my shell handed to me by Foot Elite, but when it comes to driving, I always wear a shelling seatbelt! Raph chuckled to himself, easing the Battle Shell onto the highway again.

All the rest of the way, they only encountered a few cars, none of which spared them an extra glance. Raph made sure to keep his tinted window up, and Master Splinter was leaning against his, watching the landscape roll by serenely in the warm morning light.

In the back, Mikey and Don were asleep. Leo, however, had awoken and was confused. He was tied down and moving pretty fast.

However, as a Mikey Snore hit his ears with a alto tone, Leonardo smiled. He was safe; he was with his brothers in the Battle Shell. They were going to the farm way upstate. He was very hungry, too. He could feel his stomach rumbling, and could imagine his cells begging for food.

The image of a line of cells like on cartoons lined up in front of a food vendor-like stand that was labeled "Stomach" was too funny; Leo chuckled to himself. This, however, woke the lightest sleep – aside from Leonardo and Master Splinter – and Donnie looked blearily at him before smiling widely.

"Hey, Leo. Sleep well?"

"Yes," Leonardo answered, itching his wings absently. "I'm hungry, though. Got anything to eat?"

A flash of worry traveled through Donatello. Leo shouldn't be growing so soon, he told himself. "Yeah. Hold on."

Don rummaged through the pack of food in the back of the truck, coming up with a container of high-fat, high-calorie food that would normally cause Leo to lose his appetite.

However, the eldest turtle gobbled it as if he hadn't eaten in days. Don could understand why, and he knew the "how"s of it, but it still surprised him.

Mikey had woken up and was watching Leo devour his favorite chocolate cake when he looked at Don, who was staring at Leonardo worriedly. With a flick of his head, Don met Mikey's eyes. He's not supposed to do this yet, Don conveyed.

"Taste good?" Mike asked Leo, who nodded abruptly and put the empty bowl down.

"Indeed. That was refreshing. Where are we?"

"About ten minutes out," Raph answered. "Get ready to disembark. It's still pretty cold up here."