Donatello awoke on a bed, rather than a concrete floor as he would have expected. He had a killer headache, but he managed to open an eye and examine his surroundings. He was in a bedroom of sorts, similar to what he assumed a hotel room would be like. The bed was large, with several blankets and pillows. A nightstand with some bottled water placed upon it was beside him. There were no windows, and nothing hung on the walls. He could see a small half-full bookcase and an empty shelving unit on the other side of the room. There was nothing at all electronic in origin. There was no phone. The door was closed.

"Okaaaay," the turtle muttered to himself.

Realizing that he was unrestrained, Donatello stirred and attempted to rise from the bed. A stabbing pain shot through his skull, and his muscles burned, but he managed to sit up. He realized that he was dehydrated, and wondered how long he'd been unconscious. The bottled water on the nightstand was practically irresistible. While he feared that it could be drugged, he also knew that he had to drink it or risk passing out again anyway. He sipped at it cautiously before downing the whole thing.

Feeling a little better now, Don carefully rose from the bed and approached the door. It was unlocked, and he opened it to find that he was in what could be considered a small apartment. From his vantage point, he saw a bathroom, a living room, and a kitchen. He took a few hesitant steps and saw that there was also a completely empty room adjacent to the one that he had emerged from.

As he walked through this strange enclosure, several things became apparent. There were no windows, and the only external door was in the living room. It was locked from the outside. There were no electronics anywhere in this place, in fact, there weren't even electrical outlets. The light was supplied from a centralized spot on the ceiling of each room and could be dampened or intensified manually using wooden blinds. There was nothing made of glass and nothing that could serve as a weapon. While there was a kitchen, it did not include a stove, microwave, or any other way to heat food. There was a small cupboard containing dry goods such as cereal and crackers. There was also an old fashioned non-electric ice box, being used to store some cool beverages.

This place gave Donatello the creeps. Someone clearly intended to keep him here. This someone knew that Don was an expert at repurposing electronics, and therefore couldn't be trusted with them. His bo was gone, although his pads and mask remained. He still wore his belt, but someone had emptied out all of the pockets.

Don returned to the bedroom bookcase to see if he could pick up any clues as to where he was. The books were mostly high level mathematical and engineering texts. There was a decent amount of astrophysics thrown in, as well as a novel or two. There was even a book on neonatal and early childhood development, which seemed quite out of place.

A click sounded from the living room door, and Donatello's head swiveled around. He assumed a crouch, ready to spring up and engage in hand-to-hand combat if necessary. A moment later the door swung open and Donatello straightened back up. "Bishop!"

The high-level government employee and master manipulator smirked. "Good morning, Donatello. How are you feeling?"

Donatello was taken aback. Bishop wasn't generally the type to bother with pleasantries. This apartment also wasn't Bishop's usual style. Usually, he just strapped his specimens to an exam table. It took Don a moment to regain his composure and offer an answer. "I'm feeling confused. What is this place, and why am I here? Did you take my brothers too?"

Bishop folded his hands and tapped his pointer fingers together. "You are in Area 51. I brought you here so that we can have a discussion. I felt no need to include your brothers."

Donatello frowned. "If you simply want to have a discussion with me, then why did you feel the need to involve kidnapping?"

"In case the discussion doesn't go the way I want it to, of course," Bishop answered with an obnoxious grin.

Donatello sighed. Bishop was a tough nut to crack. Years ago, he was simply another villain looking to chase aliens, dissect mutants, and wreak havoc in general. Now his status was more nuanced. While his methods were ethically lacking, he generally had good intentions, when you look at the big picture. Furthermore, Donatello was quite familiar with the Bishop of the future, who was essentially running the planet and actually seemed to be doing a halfway decent job of it. While modern day Bishop might still be considered a threat to the turtles, at some point, Donatello knew that would change. Therefore, he had to handle this very carefully.

"What do you want to talk about, then?" Don asked, trying to keep an open mind. "It must be important."

"Extremely," Bishop agreed. "Donatello, have you ever stopped to consider why it is that you think of me as your enemy?"

Donatello spread his arms to take in the prison/apartment. "Kidnapping and detaining me against my will doesn't help! And you have tried to dissect my family and I. Then there was the faked alien invasion, kidnapping the president, and the whole outbreak virus thing."

"Most of that was just business. The outbreak was an unfortunate accident, and I haven't tried to dissect you in years."

Donatello rolled his eyes and even chuckled a little. "Oh, well that's okay, then. Water under the bridge, right?"

"Right." Bishop nodded, the sarcasm having clearly sailed right over his head. "It's not like I intend to keep you here forever, just until you see my side of the equation."

"What equation?" Don wondered aloud.

"All I've ever done is try to protect this planet and its residents," Bishop replied. "The very name of this organization is 'Earth Protection Force.' You may not agree with some of my methods, but ultimately our goals are the same. Why can't we work together?"

Donatello was struck by the absurdity of this moment. One minute he's repairing cables in the sewer, the next he's here, entertaining this inane conversation with a megalomaniac. Don scrubbed a hand down his face and internalized a sigh. "Isn't that a question for my brothers as well? We're a package deal," he replied.

"Are you, though?" Bishop inquired. "Surely you recognize that you have certain talents that they don't possess. Not only that, but quite frankly, I've always believed that your brothers are barbarians. I'd sooner chew glass than welcome them into this place. You, however, seem to be more civilized. You also have a tremendous amount of potential, and if there's anything that I hate, it's untapped potential."

"You're not exactly endearing yourself to me by calling my brothers barbarians, you know," Don quipped.

Bishop unclenched his hands. "My point is that they've been holding you back. Everyone grows, Donatello, and wouldn't you love to not only grow but to spread your wings and fly? My sources say that lately, things haven't been going well for you four. Maybe now is the time for you to consider a future apart from them?"

"Your sources? Who might they be?" Donatello scoffed. Sure, things were rough at home right now, but Don wouldn't abandon his family - not ever!

"That doesn't matter," Bishop dismissed.

"It does to me," Don persisted.

Bishop crossed his arms and shook his head as if he were speaking to a child. "It shouldn't. Back to our discussion, though. That faked alien invasion that you mentioned earlier - I had a very good reason for doing that. It secured funding that is critical to the EPF, and I've been putting that funding to good use. What if I were to tell you that another alien invasion was imminent? Would you believe me?"

Donatello pushed aside his simmering resentment and thought about that. It's not like the earth had never been invaded before. Then again, To use the same logic, it's not as though Bishop had never lied about an invasion before. "I guess I'd need to see the evidence," Don decided.

"Very good answer," Bishop praised. "And what if that evidence proved that it was true? What would your next move be?"

Donatello considered that. "I don't know. Under this scenario, given that it's you who told me about the invasion, I would hope that you would know how to handle things. My brothers and I would be on alert, though."

"Because you've come in useful during these types of events before, yes?" Bishop urged.

Donatello felt a bit flustered at the compliment. It's not often that anyone recognized the turtles' accomplishments, especially not someone like Bishop. "We've gotten lucky once or twice. Right place, right time."

Bishop raised an eyebrow. "There's no such thing as getting lucky twice. Not on that level. But back to your previous answer, you said that you would hope that I knew how to handle things?"

"Yes," Donatello confirmed.

"Well, Donatello, my job requires a lot of planning ahead. I have to think of every possible scenario, don't I? I mean the fate of the world is at stake."

Donatello gave a brief nod. "Of course. You have a lot of responsibility."

"Yes, I do, and it hasn't escaped my notice just how handy you and your brothers have been when everything is on the line - you in particular," Bishop complimented.

At this point, Donatello just wanted to cut to the chase. "That's why I'm here? You want me to work for you?"

"Yes," Bishop confirmed. "Let's just call it a temporary position for the time being. I've been picking up some deep space transmissions that my team can't quite get a handle on. I'd like your help."

"Uh, okay?" Donatello stammered, unsure what to think. Why would he be any better at this than anyone else? And why wouldn't Bishop just ask him for help, rather than kidnapping him?

Bishop moved towards the door. "If you come with me, I'll show you."

Don looked around. This seemed like a trick, but he was already being held captive. He was at Bishop's mercy, regardless. This room seemed inescapable. Maybe he'd have better luck elsewhere. "I'll go with you on one condition. You need to let me tell my brothers that I'm okay. They'll be worried."

Bishop grinned. "Of course. The last thing I need is for them to storm the gates searching for you."

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