Colebrook Reservoir, CT

July 8
11:21 AM

Oyuki sat on the sand and watched Michelangelo. The turtle stood on the shore ten feet away from her, a fishing pole in his hand. He had found the pole buried in the mud - it had probably been lost over the side of a boat at some point when the water was high. The reel was rusted out, so he had un-spooled all the fishing line and tied it to the end, creating a makeshift reed pole. They'd also come across some hooks and various lures wedged between rocks - other obvious casualties of the water's high point. Mike and Oyuki had been having fun looking around for various bugs to use for bait, and now Mikey was having even more fun - fishing for the first time in his life.

Oyuki had been shocked when he told her what had happened to Mike while she had been gone. She didn't know what to say in response, so she just made her presence speak for itself. She was there for him - that wouldn't change. It didn't matter what he had done, he was still Mikey - still her best friend.

But she hadn't told him everything. The baby remained a secret that she was no longer prepared to reveal, not in the light of Mike's own shocking confession. She didn't know how he would react to the news, so she took her time and waited for the perfect moment. So far that moment had not come.

But for now they were happy - more happy than she could have imagined. Since they had made it across from the bridge it had become a long, calming camping trip. Neither one of them were in a rush to return to the hurly-burly life that the city held for them, and there was no real reason to do so, anyway. They had brought food, though the reserves had dwindled somewhat and Mike had let Oyuki in on the secret of certain edible plants that he had read about. Soon, with any luck, they would also have fish to eat.

"I got one!" Mike yelled, scrambling up the bank with a small, pathetic-looking fish dangling from the line.

The fish sprang to life and flipped off the rusted hook. It flopped down the sand to the reservoir, making a desperate break for freedom. Mike dropped the pole and scrambled after the over-active fish, lunging forward and unable to stop himself from splashing down in the water. Oyuki laughed out loud when Mike broke the surface and shrugged.

"Well..." he said sheepishly. "I had it."

"The mighty hunter," Oyuki joked as she stood. She wobbled a bit and nearly tipped over. Ugh... symptom number seventy-two: vertigo, she thought.

Mike trudged out of the water and sloshed up the hill. "Uh... would you believe me if I told you I meant to do that?"

"Not a chance in hell."

"I thought as much."

He hugged her suddenly, getting her wet with the water that dripped readily off him. She shoved him away and he slipped, rolling down the hill. He stood meekly, covered from head to foot with sand and dry leaves.

"Serves you right!" she said, smiling as she trotted to his side.

His lips curled into a childish grin and he stepped forward. She tried to back away, knowing completely what he was up to. He bounded forward, grabbing her by the waist and flinging her into the water then jumping in after. She shot to the surface and splashed him in the face.

He laughed and wrapped his arms around her. "There! Now we're both wet!"

Oyuki leaned into his embrace and smiled. Though he had given up the secret of his feelings for her she had not yet reciprocated. Somehow she wasn't even sure how she felt - it was a pleasurable sting in her chest, a shortness of breath that came and went... she hadn't felt that way with Hideki. With Mikey felt stronger, more real.

Or maybe, she thought, it was just the hormones.

Whatever it was, it felt right. She looked up into his eyes and put her hand on his cheek. Without thinking, she drew him into a kiss. The action was an awkward one, as different as the two were. Their features did not quite fit, but it didn't matter. It was so right.

Mike felt his breath catch in his throat. He closed his eyes and held her tightly to him, touching her wet hair and running his fingers down the curve of her back. He had already told her that he loved her… how he wished that she would tell him that she loved him too.

Oyuki put her hand on Michaelangelo's shoulder and pulled out of the kiss. She blushed and tried to turn away, but stopped herself. She looked back into his face and opened her mouth to speak, finding no words to fit the moment.

Mike took hold of her hand and brought her near to him again, pressing her body against his and drawing her into another kiss.

-----------------------------------------------------

New York

July 14
9:13 PM

"I hope Oyuki's okay," April said. "She hasn't even been to see a doctor yet. If anything happens…"

April and Splinter were sitting at the table in the women's apartment, as they did most evenings, going over the details of the documentary's editing. It was tedious and difficult without Oyuki's help; after all, she was the one who was most accustomed to the equipment.

Splinter put a hand on April's shoulder and tried to impart some of his silent strength to the woman. He didn't need to speak, she knew how he felt about the disappearance of his son and Oyuki.

"I am sure that Michaelangelo will be able to care for her," the ninja said. "He is young, but has lived much."

April lowered her eyes. "I know," she said. "But it hardly seems like Mikey is able to care for himself lately. How is he going to take care of a pregnant girl out in the middle of God-knows-where?"

"Have trust, April."

"I trust them," she told him, lowering her eyes. "I just hope they to know when to come home."

The rat's ears twitched and he looked up. "Perhaps we should continue this conversation at another time," he said, motioning towards the door with his head.

A moment later the door swung open and three trench-coated turtles strode in solemnly. Donatello flopped himself down onto the couch, Raph made his way to the refrigerator, and Leonardo joined April and Splinter at the table. He didn't mention that there was no sign of Mike and Oyuki - he didn't need to.

Each night the turtles went out looking for the two, and each night they came back with no good news to report, the trail having long since grown cold. Each patrol seemed to grow shorter, and each report of no news came as that much less of a surprise. This night was no exception.

"How's it going?" Leo asked, pointing to the pile of post-filming notes on the table top.

"Slowly," April said, flipping a page. "I didn't realize we missed so much stuff while we were there."

"I shall have to do some voice-overs for many portions of the film," Splinter said.

"So, uh... how was your evening?" April asked, sure that she didn't want to know.

Leo slid out of his trench coat and shrugged. "Okay. Not much going on out there."

They all fell silent. It was that way most of the time now. All of their attitudes had changed, shifted almost entirely. Without Mike's presence it was as if they had all slid a little into the hollow space he had left behind, and so dislocated themselves from what they had always been.

Raph was no longer the angriest among them, it almost seemed as if he had been tamed by Mike's ordeal and he took longer to rile these days. His only real trigger anymore was Don, whose anger had intensified as Raph's had decreased. The two had made obvious their enmity towards one another and Leonardo was scarcely able to bring them together for sparring sessions without worrying that one was actually going to try and kill the other.

Don spoke fewer and fewer kind words as the days wore on. His change had been the greatest and there was little that anyone could say that would ease his conscience. More than once he had damned himself verbally for not coming to the right conclusions at the right time before Michaelangelo had gone too far. He was beginning to doubt his own judgment, his own intelligence.

It was often the case that Don and Raph would not speak to one another at all but through Leonardo, who had become a switchboard, struggling to keep the lines of communication open. But those lines often broke down, as they had this night. All evening Raphael had been wearing Don down with snippy comments and rough jokes. Raph called it joking, Don thought it merely insulting.

The two turtles glared at one another across the room for a few moments, then Donatello stood and walked towards the apartment door without a word. The others watched him leave, wondering but not asking where he was off to. He wouldn't have told him anyway. That was just the kind of person he had become.

Don took the stairs three at a time and burst out of the building, onto the street. He kept on walking for several blocks, not really trying to figure out where his feet were taking him. He stopped at a street lamp and leaned against the pole, burying his hands in the pockets of his coat and letting out a breath.

"What do you want, Raph?"

Raphael slid out of the shadows and strode up to his brother, leaning against the other side of the pole.

"Nice night."

Don started walking away and Raphael paced him.

"Did you want something?" Don asked without slowing.

"I'd like to talk to you, if that's okay."

"Fine," he stopped and faced his brother. "Talk."

Raph was taken aback, now that he had his brother's attention he didn't know what to do with it. "I, uh... I mean in general."

"Well, once you figure out what you want to say I'll think about listening," Don snapped and turned away.

Raphael grabbed him by the arm and spun him around. "What the hell is your problem?"

"My problem is that I can't seem to do anything fucking right lately!" Don said. His eyes widened and he looked down, he hadn't intended on saying that out loud. And certainly not to Raphael.

Raphael. Every time Donatello heard his voice or saw his face it made him want to scream. To punch something. And whenever Raph touched him it made Don's skin crawl.

"Let me go," Donatello gritted his teeth and glared at his brother.

"No," Raphael said, tightening his grip. "I don't think so."

His anger came to a head and Donatello swung into a kick. Raph released his brother's arm and blocked the attack with relative ease. Don fell to the ground, kicking up again from that position and contacting Raphael's jaw, then launched himself to his feet and flipped over the other's back, landing behind him and spinning out to kick him in the shell.

Raphael slid into a full split and Don's foot cleared the top of his head, then Raph rolled forward and bounded up, throwing a kick of his own at Don's plastron. It connected and Donatello fell back, the air knocked out of him. He recovered in seconds and grabbed Raph's fist as it came near. Don twisted, flipping Raph over into a wall. He hit the bricks upside-down and fell onto his head.

Raph rolled to his knees and shook the fuzz out of his mind then stood and pointed at Don. "Bukkoroshite yaru," he yelled and dove forward.

Donatello jumped over him, mashing his foot into Raphael's neck and then tumbling away, grabbing him by the ankle and twisting. Raph fell, rolled, and came up with his knee, hitting Don in the face. Don bared his teeth and blood drizzled from the corner of his mouth. He tightened his fist and stepped forward.

As the next punch was thrown, a car squealed around a nearby corner. The turtles looked up as one, and each flipped out of the way, to opposite sides of the street. The car veered and aimed at Raphael, who jumped away. The car spun out, hitting him in the legs with the rear bumper and the ninja flew back into a telephone pole, striking it with his head. Raphael's eyes rolled back and he crumpled face-down onto the concrete.