There were flickers, scenes that became clear one moment and then unfocused the next. So very similar to a dream where in the moment you could recollect everything about it, but as time passes the details of it all escapes. Maybe it was a dream. Sure.

That was all April could connect it to as she came to the conscious world in small intervals. The first time she almost woke up, April felt like a burrito, wound up and still. It wouldn't be the first time she rolled herself in her sheets throughout the night. At least she was warm. The second time she almost came to with a flutter of her eyelids was when the distance noises from the outside world pitched through the walls of her apartment. God, didn't people have other things to do than honk their horns at every jaywalker? The third time was the strangest. There was a narrator, and oddly enough he sounded like Donatello.

You're asleep. Keep sleeping, keep sleeping, don't wake up.

"Ok, I won't," she vaguely remembers herself thinking—or answering, one of those.

Good, ok, now dream about . . . dinner. It's pizza, an extra, extra-large with asiago cheese, provolone, mozzarella, basil, uncured pepperoni, oh, and mushrooms. You like mushrooms right?

Brows furrowed and lips twitched. "Mmm, not feeling pizza tonight, mom."

How do I even remotely sound like your mother? I-I mean, no pizza? How does ice cream sound? Neapolitan? I've never seen you pass on the sweets.

Despite the faint recollection that her stomach was trying to signal its churning state, April smiled, shifting. "Yep, and that's never gonna to change."

Hhhah, I can't believe this is working. Good, stay asleep and eat your ice cream. Oh, and don't forget about your math homework. It's due!

April sighed, groaning in frustration as she pushed her head further into her pillow to drown out all the sounds around her. She dozed off a little while after that. The fourth time April woke up it was because of the sunlight beaming through her poorly concealing blinds. That time she stayed awake.

"Mnnnuh." Moving was a challenge. All April wanted to do was stay nestled in her sheets. But she knew her parents would be in any moment complaining that she needs to get ready for school.

School . . .

"Ah! My homework!" April's rising startle had her tumbling out of bed into her mess of a room. "Ooh, ow."

Seating herself upright, April's heavy eyes and throbbing head took in the state of her room. It looked as if a hurricane came through. There were cartons of milk thrown a-strew, empty boxes of Oreos, disks of DVDs and their empty cases—the movie genres seemed to lean toward Sci-Fi—there was even half eaten pizza near her computer. Her stomach rolled at the sight. No wonder she was dreaming about eating pizza. Honestly, she was surprised her parents let her have so much junk food in her room.

Oh, that's right. They're on vacation in Tahiti.

Inhaling a breath, April realized how hard her lungs took it. With another moan she moved her fingers to rub at her throbbing skull. It absolutely let her know it wasn't going away anytime soon. And on top of that monstrosity she was sore all over. Like she had an all-night pass to a trampoline park.

"Ow." April forced herself to stand up. Her sheets slipped from her making her regret leaving them behind when the components of the AC unit pushed cool air against her bare skin. On top of her aches, the trailing goosebumps made the senior shiver.

Winding arms around herself, April noticed she had passed out in nothing but her underwear. Shoot, she was even still wearing her watch and ankle bracelet. Her prom dress was crumpled on the other side of the bed, forgotten in the rest of her mess.

Fixing a fallen bra strap into its proper place, April trudged through the junk in her room to clear a spot for her to sit down at her computer to relax upright. With a sigh, she logged onto her system to scroll through the news, just to put anything on to help her morning. Thank God she didn't have school because as the day unfolded and her body woke up to the pains she was coming to know very well, she would definitely label this as a "sick day."

Her pulsing head took relief in the mindless articles passing across the screen until a short news clip reeled in about the evening before. It was in concerns to a school fire, the name of which passed below the news anchor on the headline. Suddenly, April could smell the faint scent of smoke, the source of which coming from the dress beside her bed.

There was no relief for her aching head when she remembered the fire and who started it.

Pulling out her phone with grit teeth, April's waking fingers began tapping away. "Donnie . . ."

. . .

All three turtles suspiciously ended up at the entrance of Donatello's room at exactly the same time that morning. They glared at one another, silently trying to determine if their brothers' reason for approaching the room was similar or not to their own.

"Whatchu need Donnie for?" Raphael asked with narrowing eyes.

"No reason," Leonardo replied in his own narrowed gaze. "Just need to ask him something.

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

"How about yourself, Raph?" Leonardo turned the questioning. "You're here too. Obviously you want to ask him something too."

"So what if I do," Raphael shot back. "That's between me and Donnie."

"And so is mine," Leonardo said.

"I just want to know if he really was at Jumping Jehoshaphat's last night!"

Both Raphael and Leonardo turned toward their youngest brother and eyed his outburst. Michelangelo's eyes were wide and his mind obviously strained with unbearable curiosity. Suddenly, the two were hunkered close to him, voices low just in case their too-smart brother was able to hear their conversation through his door.

"You saw him at Jumping Jehoshaphat's?" Leonardo questioned, throwing an arm around Michelangelo to reel him in closer.

"On top of that, what were you doing at Jumping Jehoshaphat's?" Raphael asked secondly.

"For the 60 Meter Dive Challenge, of course," Michelangelo retorted with fists on his hips. "I was there after closing trying to catch my epic moment on camera when I noticed I wasn't alone. There I was at the top of the diving board ready to jump after taking a few seconds to prepare myself, or minutes—hours—but the point is when I was about to jump I saw Donnie."

"So Donnie was at Jumping Jehoshaphat's." Leonardo concluded from his brother's story.

Michelangelo nodded fervently. "From my vantage point I saw him! He was all over the place doing the sickest of bounces! It was like he was possessed or something. AND the strangest part of it all was that he wasn't alone."

"Who was with him?" Raphael asked.

"April!" Michelangelo exclaimed. "At least I think it was her. It was a little hard to tell from where I was. She had so much makeup on and her hair was done up differently, and I've never really seen her in a dress or heels before, so maybe it wasn't her. Let's just say it was. But she was there beside him, taking part in the craziest parkour stunts and it was ALL caught on my phone!"

"No way," Leonardo and Raphael leaned away, their faces disbelieving for some strange reason. "Let's see it then."

That's when their youngest brother gapped. "Well, you see. I don't have it."

"What, your phone?" Raphael asked with a raised brow.

Michelangelo nodded, eyes moving away. "I propped it in the opening loophole on the scaling wall. Donnie happened to bounce through it and noticed it. That was when he took it and said, 'This is Michel's phone. I will keep it on my person so I can return it to him.' Or something like that."

"Losing the one device with all the self-proclaimed evidence; how convenient," Raphael said while he crossed his arms.

"It's true, I swear!" Michelangelo bade, tugging on his elder brothers.

"And just when did this happen?"

"Around 10!" Michelangelo swore. "Or 11, maybe it was 12."

"Your times seems to be contradicting themselves, brother." Leonardo's eyes were narrowed with no pity to pull him to believe his youngest brother.

"I didn't have my phone!" Michelangelo complained and excused away his lack of grasp for time.

"If that were true then why didn't you come home and tell us? You didn't get back until 5 in the morning," Raphael mentioned.

"It took me a little while to get down from the diving board, alright!"

The older two shared looks before shrugging him off.

"Do you believe him, Leo?" Raph looked toward Blue.

"Can't say that I do, Red," Leonardo replied.

"What?" Michelangelo seemed outraged, especially by that pitch in his voice. "Why?!"

"Because around your claimed time I saw dear Donatello," Leonardo said with a growing smile.

"You too?" Raphael's face fell in confusion. "Where?"

"The pizza pit at Bro's Pizza."

"You went to Bro's Pizza without us?" Suddenly both Michelangelo and Raphael smeared with devastation. Leonardo though only rolled his eyes.

"First off, Raph was MIA, and I wasn't going to wait four hours just for Mikey to get his scared shell down from Jumping Jehoshaphat's sixty meter diving board. It was a solo night to a place where even rockette rodents are looked on as typical. I fit right in, and it was BOGO day."

"So where does Donnie come into all of this?" Raphael asked.

"I'm getting there," Leonardo said with a purse of his lips. "So there I was: four pizzas down—"

"Slices?" Michelangelo inquired.

Once more Leonardo's animated expressions died to looks of offense. "Really, Mikey? What do you take me for? No, four pies. As I waited for the fifth and sixth sometime around 10 the girls changed songs. This one was a real crowd pleaser. I swear I could feel the whole joint shake from the energy. It was enough to pull me away from five and six, and I about jumped in to the surf that bad baby, however I was beat to it. Those screaming fans had another turtle in their hands and completely forgot about me."

"Donnie?"

"Yeah, it was," Leonardo said with a nod. "And can you believe the crowd even surfed him onto stage to sing? It was cringe worthy, really, but I think after all the pizza and pop in everyone's system they really became tone deaf."

"How long was he there for?" Raphael asked.

"I want to say for two songs, it might have been three actually. That wasn't the focus point of my night really."

"Oh yeah, and what exactly was?" Michelangelo crossed his arms this time. His upset pout still present.

"When I went back to my booth both five and six were gone. It was devastating!"

Raphael and Michelangelo made sure to show their brother no pity for his heartbreak in their stoic features.

"Donnie steal your pizza?" Raphael asked. "Nothing new."

"But it wasn't Donnie!" Leonardo swore. "Because he sang for one more song before disappearing like my pizza!"

"Did you follow him then?"

"No."

Raphael rose a curious brow now. "Why not?"

"Because I had better things to do."

"Like?"

"Like wait for seven and eight," Leonardo said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Honestly, it should have been.

"Okay, okay, so Mikey saw Donnie—and possibly April—at Jumping Jehoshaphat's around 10 or 11ish, and Leo saw D at Bro's Pizza around the same time." Raphael paused, assessing it all. "Honestly, I'm going to have to disagree with both my brothers."

"What?!" Leonardo and Michelangelo were crowding him now, brows furrowed and teeth grit.

"You calling me a liar?" Michelangelo pressed.

"I can't make up that tragedy!" Leonardo recoiled.

"I'm sorry, guys, but I just can't believe you when I saw Donnie around the same time," Raphael revealed.

"What? Where?"

"No wonder I couldn't find you in the lair."

"I was out . . . taking Buddy on a walk."

There was a quiet from both Michelangelo and Leonardo before their faces shifted at the exact same time.

"You were out walking Buddy?" Leonardo gave Michelangelo a look and he returned it with a nod. "He's not a dog, Raph."

Raphael straightened, holding his stance. "I know that! But he's been cooped up in here for so long I thought some fresh city air would do him good."

"Please tell me you didn't take him to a dog park," Leonardo chimed in.

"I didn't!" Raphael bit back. "I took him to central park."

Both Michelangelo and Leonardo slapped their faces, hiding their rolling eyes.

"Anyways, there me and Buddy were, it was late, the midnight joggers that passed didn't think anything about us. It was Buddy's idea to play catch, he really liked the game and I think he got a lot of pent up energy out. But then one time when I tossed the Frisbee he didn't come back."

"Wait, Buddy's missing?" Michelangelo's wide eyes filled with worry.

"No, he's here, but he was for a little while last night," Raphael further explained. "I got worried and went looking for him. That was when I heard Buddy's distressed cries. I rush over and find him next to Webster with his arms bending back and legs folding in by two culprits! While the nearby lantern definitely needs someone to change the bulb, I could still make out Donnie. He was laughing, you guys, laughing as he bent and folded Buddy into a . . . a . . . a paper plane!"

"Did he fly though?" Leonardo asked.

"Of course he did! D's accomplice pushed him off! It was too dark to see who it was, but it was someone!"

"That's neat. I didn't know Buddy could fly," Michelangelo commented.

"Neat? NEAT?" Raphael huffed. "In the end I was the one playing fetch. I never saw Donnie again after that. He just vanished into the night. And it took me forever to bend Buddy back too!"

"And that was around . . .?"

"10," Raphael stated. "Well, it could have been 11, or 12. I was out playing with Buddy for a while."

"So that's why you don't believe us?" Leonardo asked. "At least I have evidence unlike Mikey here."

"What evidence?!" Michelangelo squeaked.

"My missing pies," Leonardo explained as-a-matter-of-factly.

"How is that any better than MY lost phone?!"

"Alright enough!" Raphael shouted. "How about we all settle this by asking Donnie, hm?" He gathered both his brothers into his arms. "That's why we're all here right?"

Michelangelo and Leonardo nodded. "Right."

All three turned and then proceeded to open their purple clad brother's room door.

"Donnie?" When they approached they noticed a form seated at the computer desk. It was hunched over, vials in its hands. At the call it jerked and whatever it had been mixing sloshed out.

"You okay, D?" Leonardo moved closer and noticed the monitors. There were various videos in one corner, and in the other there were tabs filled with searches. He noticed a majority of them had to do with "remedies for hangovers."

The figure—Donatello sat there a moment before he put the vials down. Turning slowly in his chair, he then proceeded to stare at his brothers with straight lips and goggle concealed eyes.

"Donnie?" Michelangelo asked once more.

Finally, the fourth brother moved the goggles from his eyes, sliding them up his head. Out of obstruction, the three could see his bloodshot corneas, tagged along were the weary dark circles underneath them.

"Looks like you had a rough night—could it be because you were at the pizza pit?" Leonardo pushed in.

"No he wasn't!" Michelangelo defended. "You were at Jumping Jehoshaphat's last night, weren't you? AND you took my phone, admit it!"

When Donatello pushed his face into his hands and rubbed his knuckles along his eyes, as the eldest, Raphael took it upon himself to jump to his defense.

"Guys, guys! Enough!" He stood between Donatello and the other two. "Can't you see our brother isn't feeling well? We can be better than this, right?" Turning he leaned down and placed a comforting hand on his ailing brother. "It's alright, D, I got you. All I ask of you is to explain why you folded Buddy up into a paper plane."

"Hey! That's not fair!" Michelangelo complained.

"Yeah!" Leonardo seconded. "You can't coerce him to agree with you! That's my thing!"

"Will all of you just be quiet for like three minutes?!" Donatello's bout quieted them, and as time ticked by with the three watching their brother rub his face, a glance down at his beeping wrist pad had him saying, "I can't believe you actually listened. Mmnuh, I needed that."

"You gotta come clean, Donnie. Where were you last night?" Raphael questioned once more.

Leaning back, Donatello looked up at the ceiling with a weariness that the three weren't used to seeing. After a sigh, he spoke. "To answer your previous questions, yes, yes, and yes. In regards to last night, there's a high probability I was there and everywhere else too."

"There and everywhere else? What are you talking about?" Leonardo questioned. "And what even is this?" He held up one of the vials, sniffing the liquid inside before gagging.

Donatello quickly snatched it away. "That is Tanker54's home concoction for a hangover reliever. I have yet to see if it works."

"Hangover concoction? Just what were you up to last night?" Raphael pressed, giving his brother a poke just as the purple banded turtle tried to digest the liquid.

"Dude, are you wasted?" Leonardo was giggling as he slung an arm over Donatello, giving him a few pats. "Isn't that like illegal? You're sixteen."

"That is correct, Nardo," Donatello replied, his stinging eyes looking on in frustration as his brother's ministrations made him spill his concoction all over his computer desk. Great, so it was back to square one—again. "However, I'll have you know it was unintentional on my end, but the results were something else entirely."

"What kind of results?" Michelangelo leaned in close as well.

Once more Donatello swerved in his chair. Despite his strained face he cracked a smile and patted his palms together. "I had a date with destiny herself, boys, and through hacked traffic and security cameras I have it well documented." He pressed a button on his wrist device and across his monitors came everything the three had claimed their brother had done.

"Woohoow. Okay, now the question is: do you remember doing any of that?" Leonardo was all smiles and amazement at what he was seeing as well as remembering.

"Absolutely not," Donatello answered with arms crossed. "Except for a few things which shall remain confidential for plot convenience."

"Is that April?" Michelangelo pointed out to the figure on screen darting off with two pizzas in hand.

"So SHE stole five and six!" Leonardo gasped, grabbing his plastron. "The betrayal hurts."

"Oh, yeah, she was there. After I burnt down her school I guess she tagged along in it all." Donatello shrugged even as his brother's faces dropped.

"What do you mean you burned her school down?" Michelangelo questioned.

"That would explain why I was smelling smoke on mine and Buddy's evening walk," Raphael muttered to himself.

"At least tell us the things you remember," Leonardo begged.

Donatello only shook his head with a straight face. "No can do, Leo. Not until the shame wears off."

Leonardo sighed. As did Michelangelo and Raphael.

Suddenly, Donatello's phone went off. Holding up a finger, he motioned for a cease fire as he pulled out his cell and looked at the pager. "Excuse me for a minute, Mikey's calling." Pressing 'answer' he put the phone up to his ear. "Yes, Michel?"

While Donatello's phone wasn't on speaker, the person on the other end was loud enough to be heard from clear across the lair.

'Donatello! Get over here right now and clean up the mess you left! Mom and dad are coming back tomorrow and I'm not going to be stuck with having to do it by myself! And you better use that big head of yours to find a cure for this killer hangover because I'm not dealing with it!'

The screeches made Donatello's face scrunch and then confused eyes looked at the caller ID before he looked over at his youngest brother. Michelangelo just stood there amongst his giggling brothers, arms crossed.

"Found my phone," he muttered.

Leonardo let out a laugh after April abruptly hung up her one-sided conversational demand. He leaned over and patted his brother's shell. "So, was destiny's name April?" He laughed again. "Hee, better you than any of us. I wouldn't keep her waiting, D."

Even amongst the harassment on both ends, and the throbbing tearing his brain to shreds, Donatello still felt his face heat the moment he covered it with his despairing hands. What a night he had.