The lightest of sniffs made Splinter open his eyes. He wasn't really asleep, but Michelangelo had been so quiet, he assumed his young one was. When his eyes landed on the turtle now, he easily detected nearly silent tears.

"Michelangelo," he called softly.

Instead of responding, the youth curled up into a ball, as though he could obscure what was obvious.

Splinter felt a touch of impatience rising, but also regretted not discerning his distress sooner. When he stopped clinging to me, I assumed it was because Michelangelo felt better. Now, it almost seems to be the opposite.

The rat shifted slowly, carefully through the vent in which they still took refuge, and lightly grasped his son's shoulder. "It is all right, Michelangelo. Or it is going to be, I promise you."

The turtle sniffed harder, then used his arm to muffle the cry which came up with it. Splinter tried to draw the youth toward him, but Michelangelo refused to be moved until he applied more force, which presented another noise risk.

The rat took a deep breath to muster compassion and settled down behind his son.

"It is going to be all right," he repeated.

"It's not," the orange-masked turtle stated quietly between gasps. "I shouldn't...have...called them."

"My son. It is not what I would have done, but I understand your actions. I know you meant no harm. We will avoid these police, and find a way to escape. Things are not as bad as you believe them to be."

The youth looked up finally. "What if something happens to them?"

"The police?"

"The guys," Michelangelo exclaimed under his breath. "We're in trouble, and they're not. Only now they're probably gonna be too, all because of me!"

Splinter rested both hands firmly on the turtle's arms. "I do not know what will happen, musuko. But we are not entirely helpless. And your brothers are neither foolish nor weak. I do not want them to face such dangers, but it does not mean they are incapable of doing so."

"It doesn't make any sense," the young one murmured.

"What does not?"

"Being more scared now than before! I was all alone the other night, and it wasn't near this bad."

"You were taking your first steps toward freedom, plus protecting me," Splinter pointed out. "In this case, you are backed into a tiny hiding spot by an enemy who is not actually an enemy. But we still cannot afford to be seen by them."

"I don't think it should feel like this," Michelangelo grumbled. "You know what I mean, Otosan. You're not scared of anything."

The rat shook his head. "On the contrary, my son. I am afraid of several things, but I cannot let them control me. There is always something more important than the fear."

Michelangelo lifted his head again. "Like what?"

"You and your brothers. Preserving all of our lives. I have done many things I was afraid to try, only because I wanted us to survive, musuko."

"But how'd you know we'd live, Master?"

"I never did for sure. But the alternative of doing nothing, or ignoring a decision I did not want to make was not the answer."

"Then...was I right to make that phone call to the TV station, or wrong?"

The rat wasn't certain how to reply, because he didn't know the answer himself. After a couple of silent beats, he realized Michelangelo wouldn't relax without some assurance.

"I think you did the best you could in the middle of a great trial, my son. The danger the weapons and drugs inside this warehouse present is a significant one."

"Yeah, but telling on those Crypts was just an excuse to get the TV people to pass on my message. I was being selfish the whole time."

"Wanting to help me was not selfish, Michelangelo."

"I guess not. But if something happens to my brothers, I don't know what I'll do."

"It does no good to imagine such things."

"I know, Otosan, but I can't help this."

"Yes you can, Michelangelo. I will not tell you not to be afraid. However, you need not dwell on the absolute worst that could happen. I am guilty of fearing what may become of them too. But we both need to have a little faith in your brothers to take care of each other and themselves."

"You don't think they're fighting?" Michelangelo's voice sounded even smaller.

"I believe there are more important things to your older brothers than squabbling with one another." Hopefully, this situation will make that much clearer to them both.

The youth hesitated a moment longer from speaking. "I wish I wouldn't have called it in. The cops showing up makes it a lot harder for us, and I don't want the guys to be in trouble either."

Splinter wasn't sure what to tell him, because he agreed. He didn't want his sons within ten miles of where they were currently holed up. It is probably time to simply redirect Michelangelo. "It seems to me that you could make some use of the experience, musuko. Perhaps as inspiration for your writing?"

The turtle made a face. "More fun to imagine someone getting out of trouble than to be the one in it."

"Yes, but if you can channel what you are currently feeling into a character of your creation, it may be a healthy outlet for you. It is something to consider when we get back."

"You still think we'll make it home?"

The rat nodded firmly. "Yes, we will. And your brothers are going to be fine. You shall see."

"What if they're already on their way here? Donny can figure it out, Sensei. You know he's smart like that."

"If they are on their way here...Then I suppose, we will see them sooner than later."

"It doesn't sound so bad when you say it like that."

"It does not have to be bad, Michelangelo. When we are one, our hearts and lives in unison, we will always be stronger."

"It doesn't feel like we're in...unison. Are we ever gonna be a real team?"

"What about you and Donatello, my son? The two of you could be described as opposites, and yet, what effect does that have on your relationship?"

"I don't think it matters," Michelangelo admitted. "Being different from him has never sucked. Even when it seems like we're from separate planets, we just fit. Except that Don never believes anything he does is good enough, no matter how many times I tell him."

"You each have your own strengths. What you find within Donatello is balance."

"Right. But we're not all that way together."

"Michelangelo, you love your brothers," Splinter stated obviously. "Every single one of them."

"Yes, Otosan."

"And you would do anything to protect them. They are no different."

The turtle hung his head with another sniff. "That's why I'm so scared."

At least he didn't fight Splinter from gathering him in that time.

"I just wanna know they're okay, and to tell them that we are too."

"Musuko, you believe in them, and in me. Trust me when I say we will make it home."

"I'm sorry," the youth said hoarsely. "It's like having the same annoying song in my head, going non-stop."

"Are you under the impression that a song is stronger than you or me, Michelangelo?"

The nine-year-old's brow furrowed in confusion, and Splinter lightly tapped the back of his head.

"Keizoku wa chikara nari. What does it mean, my son?"

"Uh..." The youth visibly stretched for the translation. "I got the reference to 'power', Master, but not how you get there."

"It means that merely continuing is power or strength, Michelangelo. It is found by not giving up. Perseverance demonstrates the real endurance inside you. I am not ready to give up. Are you?"

The turtle shook his head slowly. "No. But I think some more chocolate might make it easier."

Splinter was relieved to hear a note of hopefulness enter Michelangelo's tone. "If it improves your spirit, I am not going to deny you, my son."

Michelangelo pulled his tattered bag into his lap. "I don't eat a whole bar at once. Well, I did eat three of 'em yesterday, but I saved way more than that."

The rat had the urge to groan. "While I appreciate your...boost in energy, you are not used to eating this much sugar, Michelangelo. Though I will not prevent you now, it is not going to become commonplace."

"Oh, I know, Sensei. Do you wanna have some?"

Splinter's nose wrinkled at the thought. "I fear it would be too rich for me. I was not raised on such things, and neither were you," he finished reproachfully.

"But it's really good, and it didn't hurt me at all. You sure you don't want to try any?"

The rat shook his head. "Perhaps another time, my son. I would be more satisfied with having a little to drink."

Michelangelo withdrew a bottle he'd refilled with water from the sink, then tore the wrapper from another snack bar. "I really think you'd like it, Otosan. Haven't you tried chocolate once in your life?"

Splinter sipped some water and gave the turtle a withering look. "I have not yet, Michelangelo, but I am quite certain no sugar-laden bar is going to tempt me badly."

"Don't knock it, Sensei. You could love this stuff."

"I will find out at some other point, my son, and you would do well to limit yourself too. I do not need you bouncing off any walls."

Michelangelo snorted and covered his mouth. "When we get home, you gotta have some with me and the guys. Just one piece."

"Yes, musuko. When we get home," he emphasized, only to shut him up.

"That's a deal, Otosan."


The blue-masked turtle was ready to jump out of his skin. He'd been alternating between excitement and fear for several hours, while striving to appear outwardly calm. That became harder to achieve when they were within blocks of Reid's warehouse again.

The nerves don't make sense, because we know Mikey and Sensei aren't here now. I guess it's just the fact that so much is riding on getting information out of this place. We could hop a ferry like Raph wants to, but it wouldn't be the best choice for getting where we need to go.

He groaned softly under his breath. We're about to be crazy exposed. The idea of playing everything by ear scares me. We need some kind of plan, and hopefully Reid's will help us get one.

Leo shot a glance at his purple-masked brother, attempting to read his state of mind. Donny didn't seem afraid exactly, but the manner in which he couldn't stand still was unusual.

He heard a grunt from Raphael's direction and turned his head toward him. There was nothing strange about the way the red-masked turtle paced like a caged lion.

"Are ya sure about not going in with your blinder things?" Raph challenged.

Don shook his head. "I was able to make a few more with the raid on the Gold Falcon's dumpster last night, but I still don't have as many as I'd like. There's no telling what we'll need for where we're going."

"Yeah, but letting somebody see us here could mean we won't make it that far, Genius," the bigger turtle retorted.

Donatello made eye contact with Leonardo, and the request for backup was clear.

"Our supplies are limited," Leo agreed. "We just have to act like ninjas. Stick to the shadows and avoid people."

The teen flipped up the hood of a worn, over-sized sweatshirt. "And stay undercover."

"Because no one will be able to tell what we are under this crap," Raph complained, pulling at the bill of his hat.

"I don't like this anymore than you," Leonardo reminded him. "But it's what we have to work with. Donny says he can do it, so...We need to try."

"Then what are we standing around here for? Let's go."

Raphael kicked off the next leap without them, making Leo sigh.

I'm sure it's his way of telling me I'm not the boss of him. Since we can't afford an argument at the moment, there isn't much I can say or do about it.

Donatello, however, was clearly waiting for him to make the first move.

"We've got this," he told his younger brother. "We'd better follow him before Raph decides he doesn't need us at all."


Leonardo was surprised by how much faster his heart was beating than their last trip into the warehouse. They were automatically moving more carefully since cameras were in play, and searching out the darkest areas to take advantage of.

They were simultaneously quieter than before too, not even bothering to speak for the first ten minutes of being inside. The brothers carefully traversed the second level they'd emerged upon, looking for a suitable terminal for Donny to "hack", as he'd described it.

Leo winced at the idea of wasting precious time. Don doesn't even know if he can do it. He's only talked in theories. I don't know. Maybe we shouldn't be here.

He'd put up with the ten-year-old leading their silent progress so far, because Donatello was the one who knew what he was looking for. The passing minutes were making it harder to keep his own mouth shut.

Leo was so caught up in questioning their current position, he missed the purple-masked turtle sudden stop, and almost ran into him. "Use your brake-lights," he hissed impatiently.

Donny's head was cocked, like he was listening to something else.

"Bro?" Raph spoke up, only for Donatello to motion for him to be quiet.

Then the younger turtle nodded around the corner he'd hesitated beside. Leonardo took a couple steps forward to have a look for himself, and caught his breath when he saw brighter lights and the head of a camera poised near an open door.

In the silence which followed, the teen heard the quiet strains of a radio station, and cursed himself for not catching obvious signs of life from further off. I was too distracted, but that ends now. Focus. I'm still not sure if we should be here. There must be somewhere more private to use a computer.

Leo shook his head at Don and backed away from the corner.

Donatello's eye ridges rose while he followed. "There's a good chance that everything we need is down there," he whispered.

"There's also a good chance of being recorded and or caught in the process," Leonardo replied shortly.

Donny sent another glance to the blind corner. "Footage should be grainy at best, and we're disguised. We could take out the nearest light too, but it would be nice not to destroy more than necessary."

"There's someone in there, Don. It's too risky—"

The squeal of a door made Leo cut off with a soft curse and duck against the wall. He berated himself for swearing again, and was glad Splinter hadn't heard it. The radio suddenly sounded a little louder, and then got quiet.

"I'm getting tired of your false alarms, Ray," a voice echoed down the hall. "I swear, you're just looking for something to happen."

The lack of a discernible reply made Leonardo strain harder to listen. His eyes widened when Donny chanced glancing around the only cover they currently possessed. The teen was a second away from yanking his brother backwards by his mask tails, when Don retreated to a more discreet position behind a trash can.

"Guy is wearing a vest. He looks like he's with Security," Donatello told him.

"And?" Leo softly demanded. "We need to move on."

"I don't care how bored you are!" the stranger continued. "I'm not investigating any more of your fake leads. Come to me when you've got some hard proof."

"We need a diversion," the purple-masked turtle suggested. "That man needs something to chase."

Raphael nudged the teen's side with a wolfish grin. "Sounds like fun."

Leonardo shook his head. "No. No way, Raph. There's no time for playing – we need to find a different computer-"

"We already got one, Fearless." Raphael sounded even more condescending than normal. "And I've got this. Gimme ten minutes to get back outside, and I'll attract some attention."

"No, Raph, you're not doing it!" Leo's voice almost rose too far.

"Yeah, I am," he retorted, looking at Donatello. "How much time you need on that computer?"

"I don't actually know," he admitted.

"Can you make do with thirty minutes? I'll meet you guys back on the roof. Then if we gotta do something else, we can take the next step."

"Raph, I don't want you to go-" Leonardo tried to interject.

"Got it, Leo. I don't care. Stick with the genius and watch his shell. Give me the ten minutes, and then come meet me in another thirty."

Leo was frustrated to the point of almost yelling after him when he bounded off. He couldn't do anything to stop Raphael without making more noise than it was currently safe to do so. He watched minutes slowly tick by on his watch, feeling like time had unnaturally slowed. Donatello hadn't said a word since their brother left, but the teen could tell he was struggling to remain crouched, unmoving.

Leonardo was in such a tense state that when a nearby door collided with the wall, he jumped along with Donny. At the sound of oncoming footsteps he saw Don duck further behind the trash can, but the blue-masked turtle looked around wildly for a better hiding spot.

A bathroom door a few paces behind them would have to suffice. Snagging Donatello by the arm he yanked his brother from the ground and dragged him into the men's restroom with him. With Don safely contained, Leo pressed his ear to the crack at the bottom of the door to listen as someone ran by.

"...No, don't call the cops yet! I'm supposed to make contact with Fink..."

Leonardo waited for the footsteps to retreat, and then inched open the door. "I think it's clear." His voice shook unintentionally.

Donny sprang off the floor. "Leo, we probably don't have much time!"

Running directly toward a camera still scared the crap out of the teen, but Leo wasn't going to mention it again. Instead he kept his head down and face obscured, while rapidly approaching the empty office.

Don was directly on his heels, and brushed past him to get to the desk. Leo stood back with folded arms while his brother tested the mouse.

"Windows*? Oh, this'll be a cinch. Leo, watch the door."

"What are you gonna do?" Leonardo was puzzled when Donatello immediately ducked under the desk.

"I'm forcing a hard reboot."

"And...then you'll find what you want? Why do you have to turn it off?"

"Leo, the desktop is locked. Now there are ways around something like this, but I think the fastest option to get the info we need would be to create another administrator. Then I ought to be able to access all the shared files in the network as well as history."

"Rebooting the computer will create another administrator?"

"No," he answered crossly, straightening up to sit at the desk. The screen was still in the process of loading when Donny typed something with a flourish, and the picture went dark.

Alarmed, Leo grabbed his shoulder. "Don, what did you do?"

"I'm starting in safe mode so I can kick in the appropriate Windows command prompts."

"And that will create a new administrator?" Leo pretended to understand what he was actually trying to accomplish.

"Using the command prompts will get me around other...obstacles. Leo, please. Watch the door and the time. I'm gonna be digging as fast as I can, so I can't afford to be distracted by anything else."

Leonardo took a shaky breath. "Got you, bro. I'll keep an eye out." And hope and pray that you and Raph both know what the shell you're doing.


*I don't own Windows. That's all Microsoft.