Epilogue


Donatello stretched his arms out. After this movie night, he felt strangely relaxed. Maybe staying out late was less stressing than fighting aliens or tipping the scales of a centuries-year-old war, who knew?

He felt better than ever. He had benefited from the Utroms' medicine and honestly, he deemed himself ready to get out again.

Too bad his father had different ideas, and this ridiculous notion that trying to double-cross dangerous enemies on his own was strictly forbidden.

Even if it worked.

So Donatello's last outing had been to watch the Utroms judge Kraang Prime guilty of enslaving another species, disrupting the peace of the galaxy, killing fellow Utroms and a few more, and condemn her to permanent exile. Since then, he was grounded.

He had tried to tell his brothers that they shouldn't stay in their new lair with him all the time, but for some reason they felt edgy doing so. It was exactly as if they feared he would disappear if they lost visual contact with him.

At least said new lair kept him busy. It was another subway station, bigger than the old lair. Donatello had put surveillance cameras almost everywhere around it - his family had vetoed the cameras in the lair itself, and especially in the bathroom - and he finally felt safe.

It was even closer to April's place than the old one.

Donatello's expression grew somber as he thought about April. He had been relieved to learn that she already knew about her mother, but it still pained him to see her grief.

It turned out that Kraang Subprime had lied about one thing: April's mother hadn't helped the Utroms for three months, but for almost a year. She had kept a diary that was now one of April's most prized possessions.

Donatello was glad she knew more about her past, even if she hadn't been pleased with the fact he had kept his intentions a secret. Blushing, he remembered what she had told her when he had admitted that he was investigating the Kraang ship in her basement to find out the truth.

"You're coming first, Donnie. The living always come first."

He guessed she was right. And Donatello was most certainly grateful that they were all alive, even though they had lost a lot in the destruction of their old lair.

Although they had managed to save more from the wreckage than he would have thought, including a sprout from the old dojo tree. It would take centuries before it grew to be a big, powerful tree, but it was alive, too.

Donatello watched the pile of bodies tangled on the couch around him - at least two of them faking sleep - and decided that he could sleep a little more.

It was well-deserved.


The End