Physically speaking, Donatello was doing a lot better these days. Thanks to Michelangelo, he'd put on a decent amount of weight and was therefore looking far less frail. His back and leg problems were a constant and ongoing hindrance, but the others had begun helping with low-impact workouts. Raphael was assisting with building up strength and muscle mass, and Leo was coaching him on flexibility. Donnie didn't entertain any dreams of returning to his previous ninja lifestyle, and he had no specific goal in mind. However, he was beginning to foster a small seed of hope that he wouldn't feel so crippled forever. His improvements were gradual, but they were worth celebrating.

If Donnie wanted to keep on this upward trajectory, it was inevitable that he would need back surgery. The ingrown portions of his shell stabbed him with every movement. It caused him much more pain than he wanted to let on and made even simple tasks seem daunting. He had given a list of needed surgical supplies to April during their last meeting, and he had been planning for as many contingencies as he could. Soon, he intended to ask Leo to unlock the lab, so that he could start preparing a surgical area and piecing together the instruments and equipment that would be required.

Even though a plan was falling into place, he wasn't ready to make the leap of requesting surgery yet. At first, he had the excuse of not being strong enough to survive it. But now that he was getting better, he couldn't deny that the true problem was simply that he was frightened. He was scared about being knocked-out and helpless, and he was completely terrified of being cut open.

The research that he was doing wasn't helping matters. Looking at pictures of dissected turtle shells was sickening. Writing procedures for dealing with potential complications was daunting and unpleasant. The fact that he felt the need to do it all on his own was only making matters worse. It was inevitable that he would have a meltdown at some point. His brothers watched him like a hawk, but he insisted on doing certain things alone, due to his desire to keep moving towards independence. To that end, he had urged Raphael to stop standing guard by his doorway at night. Now that patrols were becoming routine, a good-night's sleep was important for Raph. He needed to be at the top of his game. Donnie didn't want to keep him up late and then feel responsible for his brother getting hurt.

But being alone was still difficult for Donnie, especially at night. Insomnia and nightmares were becoming commonplace. As much as it sucked, he kept his problems to himself. He'd been through far worse, after all.

After a day of listening to the clash of weapons as his brothers practiced, and then a night of researching common orthopedic problems when they left him behind during patrol, Donnie finally managed to fall into a light slumber. Unfortunately, it was disturbed by physical discomfort and continuous nightmares. Eventually, his relentless tossing and turning resulted in cracking his bad leg against the wall, and a wave of agony shocked him awake. Between the nightmares, the sudden awakening, the pain in his leg and the ever-present feeling of being watched, his troubled mind was completely convinced that he was back in his cell, and he instinctively lunged for the door. He was surprised that there were no chains binding him, but he knew that he had to act right away instead of questioning it.

Gasping for breath as he fought to stave off the onset of a panic attack, Donnie frantically stumbled into the hall and headed towards the nearest potential escape route that he saw - which happened to be the door to Mikey's bedroom. At this point, he was beginning to realize that he was at home, but a large part of his mind was still trapped in the nightmare. He couldn't stand to be alone anymore anyway. Donnie tumbled into Michelangelo's bed, thrust himself beneath his brother's covers and curled up shaking at Mikey's feet.

Michelangelo awoke from what had been a peaceful slumber to the ruckus in his room and was wracked with confusion. His door was open, and his blanket had been pulled down past his shoulders. Most mysterious of all, there was a quivering mass at the back of the bed. As soon as he was fully conscious he realized that it had to be Donnie. What other possibility was there? Mikey slowly moved the blankets away, careful not to startle his brother. Panting and shaking, poor Donnie gazed at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Hey, it's okay," Mikey soothed as he gently reached for his brother's shoulder, "You're safe."

Donnie squeezed his eyes shut and calmed his breathing enough to speak between gasps. "I know…. I'm sorry, Mikey…. I just got really…. freaked out…. and ended up... in here…. I didn't mean to…. wake you."

Mikey tried to suppress a chuckle. If this situation wasn't so sad, it would have been cute. "It's okay, Donnie. You're always welcome here." Mikey urged Donnie up towards the front of the bed so that he wasn't awkwardly balled up at his feet. Before Donnie could completely lay down, Mikey grabbed him and pulled him into a tight hug. Donnie hadn't been expecting that, and suddenly found himself sobbing on Mikey's shoulder.

Mikey rocked his distressed brother back and forth, while whispering the most soothing words that he could think of. Eventually, Donnie quieted and pulled away, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "Is it okay if I stay here tonight?" he cried.

Michelangelo smiled. "You know it is. Let me go get your pillow and blanket. Just sit tight."

Mikey returned and got Donnie settled before sitting next to him and rubbing the undamaged portion of his back. "Was it a nightmare?" he asked gently.

"Kind of," Donnie murmured into the pillow. "I think it was more like a flashback, really."

The two remained quiet for a while, Mikey continuing to rub Donnie's shell while he recovered from his panic attack. "Can I tell you something?" Donnie finally whispered.

"Of course, you can. You can tell me anything."

Donnie shuddered beneath Mikey's hand, but he began to speak softly. "Where they kept me, my cell - it was kind of like a glass cage. I was all alone, but there were always people watching me from the outside. When I ate, when I slept, when I was tortured, when I was sick or hurt or distressed, there were always people watching with these cold, unsympathetic eyes. Even though I felt so utterly alone, I still had nowhere to hide... no privacy."

Donnie stopped to compose himself and focus upon Mikey's soothing. "I think that's why I can't be alone for long anymore. Whenever I am, I feel those eyes on me again. It's like I can't get away from them. I only feel better when you guys are here, like you can protect me somehow."

Mikey laid down next to Donnie and put his arm over his brother's shell. "We can protect you. I know that it doesn't feel that way right now, but you are safe here."

Donnie turned his tear-soaked face to his brother. "I know, but it's like my heart and my brain won't get on the same page. The logical part of me knows that I'm safe now, but the emotional part of me doesn't accept it. It's like I'm being pulled apart."

"It'll get better, Don. I promise you. It's just going to take time."

"Yeah. I keep telling myself that. Seems like these anxiety attacks are just going to be something that I have to deal with in the meantime."

"You don't have to do it alone though. We're all here for you, to help you through. No one's an expert, but we're doing our best. We all love you so much, Donnie."

Donnie wiped away a few of the tears that had begun running down his face again. "You've grown up, Mikey."

"It's about time somebody noticed," Mikey said with a grin.

When Michelangelo was a child, he had often been frightened by Leonardo and Raphael's arguments and jostling for position. It was usually Donatello that he went to with his problems. Donnie was such a kind and gentle soul, and he always took time to listen to Mikey's troubles and reassure him or help however he could. Even as they grew older and the world changed around them, Donnie had been a constant - someone that he could lean on and trust, someone that he could confide in without fear of judgement. Mikey had assumed that the others felt the same way. He was certain that Raph always went to Donnie with his problems as well. He had sure as heck never came to Leo or Mikey.

After Donnie disappeared, Michelangelo had tried to fill the void as best he could. Everyone was so upset all the time, and so desperate for information. The arguments and hurt feelings seemed like they would never end. Unfortunately, the person who was best at calming everyone down was the very person that was no longer there. Mikey tried to be more like Donnie had been; more mature and empathetic, kinder and more understanding. His family had been so wrapped up in their own problems and their own desperate search that they hadn't noticed how Mikey had grown. Even when he reached out to them and tried to comfort them, they just dismissed it. It felt good that someone finally noticed how he had changed. As much as Donnie's current suffering broke Mikey's heart, it also felt pretty good to be the one who was there to comfort him when he really needed it.

"I love you too, you know," Donnie said. He sounded like he was getting sleepy at last. "I love all of you guys so much."

"We know." Michelangelo smiled as a thought came to him. "Hey, Donnie," he whispered.

"Hmmm?" came the groggy response.

"Tell me some facts about New Jersey,"

Donnie grinned blearily, thinking back to that scene in the dumpster, just before everything went so wrong. "Well," he yawned, "Thomas Edison's lab was there. It's called Menlo Park. And, all the properties on the monopoly board are named after streets in Atlantic City."

"Really?"

"Yup." Donnie yawned again and snuggled closer to Mikey.

"I always thought they were just randomly chosen names," Mikey pondered.

"No," Donnie breathed. He said it so softly that Mikey wouldn't have heard it if Donnie wasn't practically glued to his side.

"It's a pretty great state, isn't it, Donnie?"

"Yeah... beaches…. diners…... museums." The pauses between words grew longer and longer.

"We should go someday. A bro-trip. Just you and me."

"Yeah," Donnie smiled, opening his eyes just a sliver, pleased to catch a glimpse of his brother's honest face. "Let's go." Donatello fell asleep right after the words left his lips, warm and cozy against Michelangelo's side. The rest of the night, his dreams were filled with bluffs and boardwalks and meadows that seemed to stretch on forever. The nightmares he had suffered faded far into the distance, until they were forgotten entirely. It was the best he had slept in weeks.

I know this is rather reminiscent of the chapter with Raphael a few weeks ago, but I'm a sucker for turtle slumber parties, and I wanted a chapter for each of Donnie's brothers. As always, thank you for reading!