I've had this one in bits and pieces for a few months now, and I finally found how to sew it together.

A large thank you to those who are still following this story. I can't reply to all of you (because FF doesn't allow me to reply to "guest" comments) but I appreciate all your words of encouragement and excitement. Especially after such long lapses between chapters.

"This is a bad idea."

Leo handed Don his shell-cell to force eye contact. "It's not that big a deal."

"It is too, and you know it. I've never done anything like this before. I've never had to lead the whole team into a big mission like this!"

"You've led plenty of missions over the years."

"Well this one's different."

"How so? It's no more difficult than any other—"

"Because you're not going to be there!" Don turned away from his brother, solidly placing his shell between his solemn face and Leo's wide eyes. "Anytime I've 'led' a mission, it's been in the middle of one you already started, and you were right there the whole time, ready to take over if anything went wrong. Which it did. Almost every time."

"Donnie…"

"Look, I appreciate your faith in me, but I'm just not ready for this. I know my strengths, and I'm not meant to be the one calling the shots. It should be—"

"Who? Who should it be if not you? Raph?"

"Well why not? He's done it without you before. And he can be pretty intuitive, when he keeps a cool head long enough to actually think."

"It's not that I don't trust him to lead, Don, it's that…" A rough sigh blew from Leo's nose. "He's been… angry, lately. Distant. More so than usual. I don't know what's clouding his head, but I doubt forcing more responsibility on his shoulders will help."

"And you think having me order him around is going to make anything better?"

"I think…" He paused a moment, likely trying to find the right words. "I think, for this mission, you're the best choice. If I could be out there with you, I would, but…" Don turned enough to see his brother glare down at the bandages around his torso. "My doctor tells me it's too soon to be moving around. Apparently a bullet to the chest requires rest in order to heal. Go figure."

"Great. The first time you actually listen to my advice, and it ends up biting me in the shell." That got a small chuckle from the elder, which actually managed to relax Don's shoulders ever-so-slightly. "I just… what if I mess it up? What if something goes wrong? What if… what if I get someone hurt?"

He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Leo, an unfaltering and trusting smile splitting his lips. "Then you'll fix it. Like you always do."

Don breathed in deep. He hated every bit of this, but he was running out of arguments to throw at his brother. He smiled shakily. "Are we sure there's no one else? What about Sensei? Or Leatherhead? He's a brilliant guy, probably great with strategy."

"Mikey offered to take over if you refused."

Don groaned. "Fine, fine. I'm going. But one of these days I'm going to call your bluff and actually let Mikey lead a mission."

"I'll get the fall-out bunker ready."

Don snorted a laugh and turned to head off to his lab and prepare for the duty ahead of him.

"Donnie."

"I know, I know! I'll pack extra snacks for Mikey." But when Leo didn't return his humour, Don turned. "What?"

"I wanted… I wanted to say… Thank you. For saving my life."

He watched Leo glance at the bandages with distain once more, and realized how hard this must be for him… having to stay home with such an important mission to attend to. Knowing Leo, he'd probably pace the lair the whole night till they got back. Don smiled at the thought. "Just don't make me do it again, okay? It wasn't…" He sighed once more, not wanting to think about the terror of four nights ago. But the trauma forced itself before his eyes like a macabre puppet show:

The bullet had hit Leo so close to the heart, it was a miracle he'd managed to live through it in the first place, let alone the operation. And that was as close to open-heart surgery as Don ever wanted to get. His hands hadn't stopped shaking till just this morning.

He'd thought for sure Leo was going to die.

He'd sat by his brother's bedside for hours before he woke up, trying to imagine how they would cope in a world without Leo.

The thought of it was too much. He'd cried. Held Leo's hand and wept like a frightened child. It had taken several minutes for him to calm down enough to realize he wasn't alone: Mikey had hugged him across his shoulder, Raph had clamped an arm around his shell, and Sensei kneeled by his side, gently reminding him to breathe when his sobs made him forget.

It had been so close. Far too close.

Don's hands started trembling again. He shook his head to rid himself of the memories. The fear. Suddenly unable to stop himself, he turned on his heels, marched back to his brother, and grabbed him into a tight, unrelenting, hug. "I'm glad you're okay."

It took a moment, but Leo leaned into it, returning the embrace with an emphatic sigh. "Me too, Don."

Me too.

The echo of his brother's voice began to fade, drawing Don's brows together in a tight knit as he tried to understand. His eyes fluttered slowly open, blinking in the darkness as he found his bearings. He was on the floor… in the med bay? He must have fallen asleep. First time in days. Someone had placed a pillow under his head and covered him in a blanket. "Leo?" The name lit a fire in his chest that his tired mind wasn't able to make sense of.

What a dream… the worst nightmare Don had experienced since he was a kid. He'd been startled by night visions of his brothers dying before, but never like this. Never this intense. Almost real.

Sitting up slowly, Don felt his head spinning already. And his eyes stung. A lot. "Leo?" He called, glancing around the room. If he slept here because he was sick, Leo was sure to be close by. He hovered like a nurse-maid when they got sick. "Leo, can you get the lights?" Again. There it was again. The hollow ache in his chest when he said his brother's name. Why? What could…

What if it wasn't a—

"He's been shot."

No…

"Where else could we take him? There aren't any parks secluded enough that we could bury him around here."

Oh please, god, no…

"We stay hidden, and we stay safe. And I don't care how pissed off you are, I'm not losing another brother to your temper!"

It was real. Leo was…

"Why didn't you just listen for once!? Why didn't you follow orders!? If you hadn't left, he might still be—"

And Raph…

"You owe us for getting our brother killed!"

Guilt boiled in Don's stomach like a volcano waiting to erupt. He'd really said those things. Felt them. Meant them. How could he… to his own brother? Raph was in as much pain as the rest of them, Don should be more understanding of that. And yet… despite all the logic, he still couldn't dissolve the anger bubbling under his skin. He couldn't forgive Raph. He wanted to—he didn't want to blame his brother in the first place—but the anger…

He felt like he was going to hurl.

Remembering his weeping session before passing out, Don understood why his eyes were sore and his head throbbed. He hadn't cried like that since he was eighteen years old and they all thought they'd lost Mikey to a dimensional tear after a mission with Renet. He was returned two weeks later, but those fourteen days had been pure hell.

Like this was now.

Another chill ran up his spine as Don shook the memory out. He was tired of memories. Time to get back in the here and now. The present.

The present where Leo was dead. Where Don was lost. Where Raph was closing himself off from his family because Don was pushing him away.

He breathed deeply. He should apologize. To Raph and to Mikey. He should make this right. He was still angry—seething—but it wasn't fair to his brothers. It wasn't their fault. The Dragons killed Leo, not Raph. Why Don was having such a hard time convincing himself of that, he couldn't say, but he would repeat it until he believed it.

Standing on shaky legs, Don headed for the door and immediately regretted it. The light from the living room was too aggressive for hiss sensitive head at the moment, and a dull throbbing began pounding at the back of his skull.

"Morning Sleeping Beauty."

The voice was far too chipper for Don's mood right now, but he was still happy to hear it. He turned to Mikey—a slight smile adorning his face, which hadn't been there in a long time—and attempted a wave. "How long was I out?"

"A full twenty-four hours, dude, and I still don't think it was enough."

Don tried to digest that without getting flustered. A whole day? He'd been out a whole day? Last time he slept that long was after being mutated by Bishop's virus. Leo had been adamant that he stay in bed.

"I should have made you rest when you were sick. I'm not making that mistake again."

He shook the voice from his head, offering a small smile to the worried look on Mikey's face. "Where's Sensei?" Mikey only pointed towards the dojo. Don gulped, still unwilling to even look in that direction. "Meditating?"

The younger nodded. "He sat outside your door for a few hours, then moved to Raph's. Been in the dojo since morning." He shrugged hesitantly. "His face when we got home… I think we really freaked him out. We shouldn't have left without telling him."

Don sighed, feeling his guilt volcano rumble "Yeah."

"…Or you." Mikey's eyes suddenly found the floor as he rubbed his arm. "I'm really sorry, Don. We shouldn't have—we didn't mean to—it was just…" He paused, glancing up at his brother with remorse plastered all over his face. "I'm sorry."

Don watched his brother as he bore his shame on his sleeve, his guilt boiling hotter and hotter. He wanted to tell Mikey it wasn't his fault. He wanted to say his own apology. He wanted to make the guilt disappear from both their shoulders. But the words just wouldn't come. "Mikey…"

"You were right to be angry. …Leo would've—"

The minute their deceased brother's name left Mikey's lips, Don's arms shot around his shell, pulling him into a deep hug that even he hadn't expected. None of the words that flooded his mind to say actually made it out of his mouth. Not the explanation that he wasn't angry but terrified, not the apology for shouting when he shouldn't have, nor the adoration he felt at seeing his brother squaring his shoulders and trying to do what he could to help his family as it fell apart. None of it. The only utterance that left his lips slipped out as he clung tight to his baby brother and held on for dear life. "You're here. You're alive. That's all that matters to me."

Mikey didn't miss a beat. The moment he heard Don's words—felt the desperation in them—he returned the hug with fervour.

Neither turtle noticed as their embrace lasted several minutes, bringing much needed comfort to both. With one final squeeze, Don released his brother, taking a moment to breath back the emotions sweeping through. No time for tears. Not now.

"I… I need to talk to Raph."

"Your brother has yet to come out of his room." Both turtles turned to see Splinter enter the room, an unusual heaviness to his steps. He walked up to Donatello with a gentle smile and a comforting touch to his shoulder. "How are you feeling, my son?"

"Better." Don's head was still throbbing and his eyes were more sore than the time he'd spent two full days in front of his computer with no sleep, but he felt… lighter. Less clouded. "Thank you, Sensei. I'm sorry I—"

But Splinter raised his hand and stopped the apology before it was voiced. "Anger is a necessary part of grief, my son. I am overjoyed you have found your way through it." He cupped Donatello's chin in his paw. "It is good to see the light in your eyes again."

Don smiled, content to share this moment of peace with his father and brother, until guilt raised it's voice once more. "I only got through it because I took it out on all of you. …Raph especially." He pulled his eyes from the floor, not allowing his own self-pity to surface again. "Where is he?"

The other two shared a worried stare.

"He's still in his room." Mikey sighed worriedly. "Hasn't moved from there since last night."

Don's eyes followed to his brother's bedroom door, but his feet remained planted where they were. What was he going to do? What could he say? He'd practically accused Raph of murdering their brother… there was no walking back from that. His mind was reeling, fighting for any idea that he didn't immediately deem as trivial and ill-advised, when his father's calm voice broke his train of thought.

"Your brother is suffering as much as any of us. He needs to know he is not alone."

"I know… but how do I—"

"Be open with him, my son. Tell him what you are feeling."

Don sighed. Somehow he didn't think explaining how his anger stemmed from the gaping maw of grief continuously attempting to suffocate him at every turn, and that he didn't actually mean what he said—he didn't. He couldn't—would make his brother feel any better. But then, what else was there for him to say? He sucked in a thick, protracted, and hesitant breath, waiting for some sort of divine intervention to help him in that moment. None came.

"Ok." He conceded, forcing his feet to move towards the stairs. Mikey and Splinter waited below, watching as Don walked to the door, offering their support with kind smiles anytime he glanced back with hesitancy.

Don stood in front of the door for a good long minute, staring at the aged metal. He noted many scrapes and scars near the door handle, clearly left by being shut too forcefully. Raph and his temper… It drove Leo crazy when Raph slammed the—

Don sighed deeply.

"Raph?" His voice croaked out as he rapped on the door lightly. "Raph, it's Don." Not that his brother wouldn't recognize his voice, but he felt the need to say it. "…We need to talk." He waited, listening patiently for any sign of movement on the other side. Nothing. Clearing the doubt from his voice, Don tried again, stronger in conviction. "Raph, open up. I know I'm the last person you want to see right now, but I—" Fear of his brother's wrath suddenly halted his words, but Don was quick to push past. "Please… Please let me in." Still no sign of movement. Not even a grunt of disapproval. "Raph?" He rapped on the door harder. Perhaps more force was needed. "You know I can pick the lock if I have to. Open the door." But it remained closed, with nothing but silence behind it.

Something was wrong. It came out of nowhere and as suddenly as a gust of wind, but the dread pumping through Don's veins and sending a chill down his shell wasn't a figment of his imagination. And he didn't dare ignore it.

"Raph?" He rattled the doorknob, noting that it wasn't locked, but merely stuck. He jiggled to and fro, trying to release it from whatever held it.

"Dude," Mikey came up the stairs, suddenly worried. "He could be asleep! You don't want to wake the beast if he's—"

"He's not asleep. We have to get in. Help me—" The door jarred suddenly, opening and taking Don with it as it screeched into the room. The tall turtle righted himself, blinking in the darkness and waiting for his eyes to adjust as Mikey and Splinter joined him. "Raph?"

But once again, the room remained completely silent. Still.

Alarm bells shrieked in Don's head. This was wrong. This was all wrong. "I don't see him."

"I don't see anything." Mikey whined, searching for the light on the wall. He found it quickly and flicked it on, but the sight that greeted him was anything but comforting. "Whoa…" Weights lay strewn about the floor like bodies, the bed and hammock both looked as though they hadn't been touched in months, and cracks and holes littered the walls, most in the shape of Raph's fist. Several stained with blood. "Bro…"

"Raphael." Splinter's hair was beginning to stand on end, even more so when he found vomit in the waste bin. Too long… he'd waited too long!

Don felt something under his feet and stopped to take a look; a photo. A picture of their family that April had taken last Christmas. But there was a sai shaped hole drilled through one face. Raph's face.

And just like that, the light bulb flicked on. Something so obvious that Don couldn't believe it took him this long to understand. So obvious… if he'd only bothered to pay attention.

Self-loathing. The room was dripping with it.

"Maybe's hiding out in the garage? Slipped out to work on his bike or something?" Mikey offered meekly, unable to take his eyes off the blood on the walls.

But Don knew for a fact Raph hadn't gone near his bike since Leo... Heart racing in his chest—with guilt, with fear, with the sudden panic that Raph wasn't where he should be—Don scoured the room with his eyes, searching for any sign of his brother. But it was what he didn't see that caught his attention. "…I don't think he's hiding."

Raph's sai. His sai weren't in the room. The weapons that never left his side weren't in the room.

Don's heart dropped to his stomach.

"Raph's gone."

…I still have troubles writing for Donatello. And yes, that was a flashback inside a flashback. I may have gone overboard with the memory inserts...

Comments, critiques, corrections, always welcome.

End of Line.

-TRAaP