this chapter is short, I'm sorry. I did finally explain who Frankie was/is. I almost regret introducing him in the beginning, but I might throw in a flashback that give his character a little more depth, maybe. But, Raph does explain who the guy is and once again, Mikey is the outlet for all my flubs on my first hunting/fishing expeditions. I was only four when grampy made me gut my first catch. It was defenitely gross, but I got used to it.

Raphael and Michelangelo returned promptly with the now cleaned and gutted fish. Oddly enough, Michelangelo seemed a bit greener than normal. He stumbled up the path behind Raphael, holding his stomach.

When they made it back to the campsite, he flopped down on one of the tree stumps and made a loud groaning noise. "That was the most disgusting thing ever," he let his tongue hang out for a minute and went "BLEAH!"

"It's just a couple of fish Mike," Donatello told him. "It couldn't have been that bad."

"He lost his breakfast," Raphael muttered, as he put the pan of fish on the metal grating. Michelangelo gave his brother a menacing glare for revealing that bit of information. A sizzle of the fish cooking slowly began to rise. "Here," he handed a bucket to Leonardo. "There's a blackberry bush down by the river. I had Mike pick 'em while I cleaned the fish. He washed 'em off in the water."

Leonardo gave his brother a puzzled look and held the bucket up. "What do you want me to do with them?" he asked.

"Nothing," Raphael answered, shrugging his shoulders. "I just thought you'd want to eat 'em with dinner or something."

"So how often do you come out here?" Donatello asked, sharing Leonardo's bucket of berries.

Michelangelo handed Raphael two small plastic containers, "Salt and pepper for the fish?"

"You should probably do this not me," Raphael conceded and moved out of the way. "You're a better cook than I am."

Happily Michelangelo took over and began digging through his back pack, looking through for any kind of seasoning that would work well with dinner. Once he was done with that and the fish were cooking, he pulled out a few plastic plates and some plastic forks.

"Raph," Donatello got his attention, blackberry juice now staining the corner of his mouth and fingers. "You never did answer my question. How often do you come out here?"

"That screams of a bad pickup line," Michelangelo giggled. He stopped when he got a look from Leonardo.

Raphael sat on the dirt and leaned up against a log, staring at the fire between him and his brothers. "I don't know," he shrugged his shoulders. "Every time we come to North Hampton I guess." He pulled his knees up to his chest. "Why?"

"Just curious is all," Donatello explained. "What do you do out here."

"Not much," Raphael began drawing circles in the dirt. "Hunt, fish, swim. Stuff like that."

Leonardo got up and walked around the pit and handed the small bucket to Raphael, offering him a few of the berries.

"No thanks," Raphael held his hand up. "I don't really like 'em. I just figured you would."

"Okay guys!" Michelangelo proudly announced holding up four plates with food on them. "Dinner is served!" Michelangelo eyed everyone warily as they began to taste their food, hoping he had done a good job.

"Nicely done Mike," Leonardo managed to get out in between mouthfuls of food.

"Definitely!" Donatello agreed, shoving another bite into this mouth.

"What about you Raph? Does yours taste okay?"

Raphael looked up to see his little brother staring at him, waiting to see if he was enjoying is food. He gave his brother a little smile and swallowed what he was eating. "It is good Mike," he said quietly. "Thanks."

At the end of dinner, the four brothers took their plates down to the river. Raphael grabbed the bucket and a bar of soap so they had something to wash their utensils in. It was getting to be a bit hot so a swim was suggested.

Michelangelo was the first one in. He was also the first one out. "That water's freezing!" he exclaimed shivering and dancing around trying to pat himself down.

"You just gotta get used to it," Raphael answered; his brother's watching as he slowly began to walk into the water. When he was a little over waist deep, he leaned down into it and swam away from shore.

Michelangelo and Donatello looked at Leonardo waiting to see what he would do.

He looked back at his brothers and shrugged his shoulders, "when in Rome," and slowly made his way in as well, followed by the remaining two turtles.

The silence of the woods and the gurgle of the water were soon drowned out by the noises of three brother's playing and hollering as they roughhoused in the water. One in particular, came bobbing up to the surface and looked around, noticing his red clad brother, still sitting in his original spot, on a flat piece of rock, the water level reaching the middle of his neck. Quietly, Donatello swam over to his brother and took a spot on the outcropping of rocks next to Raphael.

Raphael looked over at him for a moment and then turned his attention forward, letting out a sigh. The chill of the water made his breath cloud up as he exhaled. "What?"

"Nothing," Donatello admitted. "Just thought I'd come sit with you for awhile."

"Okay."

The two sat still for some time, Michelangelo wanted to go and join them but Leonardo stopped him, promising to explain later. Having swum around for awhile, the two decided to get out of the water and go get supper started, leaving Donatello and Raphael on the outcropping of rocks.

Donatello noticed that they had been sitting still for so long, his body was no longer bothered by the chilling temperature of the water. The fish had long since become used to the intruders. He laughed as they tried nipping at his feet and swimming in and out of his legs.

Raphael turned and saw what was making his brother laugh and let go of a little grin. "It always tickles the first couple of times."

"Raph?"

Here it comes, he thought. "Yeah?"

"Where did you get that bag?" Donatello kept his eyes forward, watching the river flow towards him.

Raphael was a little surprised by that question. He thought for sure, Donatello would want to pick up their conversation from last night. Deciding it wouldn't hurt anything, Raphael told him. "I got it from a guy a knew. His name was or is Frankie."

"What do you mean?" Donatello turned his head towards his brother.

"I met him in Central Park one night. He was being beat up by some punks so I chased them off and got his stuff back. He was homeless."

"Why?"

Normally Raphael wouldn't have answered a question like that but he figured since he was talking about someone else, it wasn't a threat to him. "He was a Vietnam vet. Didn't adjust well to life in the states after he returned. I guess he saw some pretty bad shit while he was over there, somehow, he just ended up living on the streets." Raphael sunk down a little further into the water, the level now reaching up to just under his lower lip. "I used to go check on him every couple of weeks or when the weather got bad. You know," he looked at Donatello. "Make sure he had food and blankets and stuff."

Donatello nodded indicating he understood and leaned back a little more, feeling the dry skin prickle at the touch of the cold water. "What happened to him?"

"I went one day to check on him, only he wasn't there, just his stuff," he paused, wondering if he was starting to say too much. "And a note," he added. He took a deep breath and decided to finish his story before Donatello could ask another question. "He told me that appreciated the food and all. His daughter had found him and was taking him home. He was going to meet his grandkids," he inhaled and slowly exhaled. "Anyway, he said I could have his stuff since he was finally going home."

"Neat," was all Donatello said.

Raphael stood up on the rock that served as a seat and looked down at his brother. "I'm gonna go swim for a bit. Go check on Leo and Mike. Make sure they haven't burned down the trees, okay?" He started to jump off the rock and dive in but felt Donatello's hand on his lower leg, his eyes showing concern. "I promise not to leave, okay?"

Satisfied with the answer, Donatello let go and headed for shore, giving his brother some time alone. As he got closer to their camp, he could hear Leonardo and Michelangelo.