The next morning Michelangelo awoke to find Donatello gone. Much to his surprise, he located him in the kitchen. "What are you doing?" Mikey asked.

Don peered over his shoulder, then refocused his attention on the stovetop. "What's it look like? I'm cooking."

"You sure you're okay to be up and about?" Michelangelo fretted, coming up to his brother's side.

Donatello narrowed his eyes. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Michelangelo knew better than to mess with that look. "Just thought you would be taking it easy." Mikey looked around. "Where's Casey?"

"Sent him home," Don reported. "You seemed pretty adamant about sticking around, and I'm sure he's been missing spending quality time with April."

Mikey crossed his arms. "I am adamant about sticking around. And I'm adamant about cooking too. Why don't you just sit down and let me handle that?"

"Jeez, Mikey. It's not like I'm crippled or anything," Don huffed. "A little exercise is good for me. Besides, I wanted to do something to thank you for staying here last night."

"Your cooking is no reward, Don," Michelangelo pointed out.

Don chuckled. "Maybe so, but it's the thought that counts, right?"

"True, but right now you deserve to just kick back and relax. We all treated you terribly, and I'm trying to make it up to you, so just let me pamper you for a bit."

Donatello smiled over his shoulder. "Thanks, but you don't need to do that."

"Yes, I do. Now go sit down before I pick you up and carry you to the sofa," Michelangelo insisted.

"Well, I guess we don't need you getting a bad back too," Don said as he put down his spatula.

"That's right. Step away from the stove," Mikey ordered as he picked up where his brother left off.

Don waddled off to the sofa and sank into the cushions. Michelangelo didn't miss how Don needed to grab the arm and backrest on the way down, or the groan of relief as the weight shifted from his feet. "You're up early. Did you sleep alright?" Mikey checked.

Don picked up a small electronic device and began unscrewing the casing. "Better than I have in a long time."

"What's that?" Mikey asked.

"Baby monitor," Don explained. "April got it for free because it's broken, but I'm sure that I can fix it."

"Do you even need one?" Michelangelo wondered. "This place is pretty small."

Don shrugged. "Might come in handy."

Michelangelo finished cooking, then brought Donatello a plate. Don placed it on his belly and began to eat. Mikey found it amusing, but he didn't dare voice it, for fear of upsetting the genius.

"Do you want to talk about everything that went down?" Don asked between mouthfuls. "I know we did a lot of apologizing last night, but saying I'm sorry probably isn't enough in this case."

"No," Michelangelo agreed, "probably not."

"I can start if you want," Don offered. "I've had all morning to think about how to say what I want to say."

"Okay," Michelangelo agreed. "The turtle in purple has the floor."

Donatello had rehearsed enough that he knew he would be able to control his emotions, but he still didn't make eye contact while he gave his speech.

"Well, I know that I couldn't have been any fun to live with. I know that I've been cranky and emotional and that you guys haven't agreed with a lot of the decisions that I've made. But from where I stood, I was trying, Mikey. Really trying. I tried to stay out of everyone's way, but to still take everyone's feelings and desires into consideration. I tried to still do things for you guys, to keep the Lair and the vehicles repaired, to support you on patrols when needed, to train with you, and to pull my share of the load, even though I was stressed beyond imagination and I've felt like crap for months now. I know I'm not perfect. I know that I must have been annoying and selfish at times, but still… I just don't know what I did that was so bad that you guys would freeze me out like this."

Don leaned back. "I just never saw it coming, Mikey. This is hardly the tightest spot that I've been in. When I was abducted by the Triceraton, you guys stormed the ship to save me. When I was double-mutated into a monster you moved heaven and earth to find a way to heal me. I didn't even have control over my body and mind back then, but you guys still stuck by me. It's always been the four of us against the world until now. Why is it that this time was so different? What did I do to make you guys hate me so much? I just don't… I don't understand."

"No one hates you." Mikey sighed. "Look, I'm not going to pretend to know everything that goes on inside of anyone else's head except my own. I can only speak for myself, okay?"

"Yeah," Don acknowledged, "please do."

"I'm not going to tell you that I agree with the way things were handled, because I don't. And, we already said our 'I'm sorries' and 'I love yous,' so all of that goes without saying, right? I don't want you to get offended by any of this, but I do want you to understand how I see things." Michelangelo waited for Don to nod before he continued.

"You're right about a lot of what you said, Donatello. You worked really hard to keep everyone happy, to keep all of the proverbial balls in the air. Raph didn't make it a secret that he was worried about your health, and you seemed determined to prove that you were okay. Leo made it obvious that he was scared for you, and you made it a point to prove that you could do everything - be your own doctor, prevent the invasion, still be a valuable member of the team. And, you did it all well, just like you always do. But, it was starting to seem like cracks were forming. Your health was beginning to decline, stress was affecting you more. There was nothing that any of us could do to help you, and if anything we were only making things worse for you. But, it was like you insisted on pretending that everything was still okay, even though it was obvious that it wasn't."

Mikey paused before continuing. "When we had that big fight after Hun's crew almost found the Lair, you said that you stayed on earth for us - for family. I don't think that Leo really meant to throw you out permanently. I think he really just wanted you to go somewhere safe for the night. But after you left, the guys and I talked, and… I guess that we thought that if you had some time away from us, to really sit down and think, without all the realities of daily life around the Lair, that maybe you'd change your mind. We thought that if you were all alone, with nothing to focus on but your health and the babies, you would see what the rest of us were seeing - that it was getting to be too much for you. We don't want you to die because you stayed here on earth because of us, Donatello."

"So you thought that by cutting me off, you could make me change my mind about staying here on earth?" Don attempted to clarify.

"Kind of," Mikey answered. "You said you were staying for family. So, if the family didn't come into play anymore, maybe your decision would be different." Mikey looked at his hands. "Or, that's the gist of it anyway. It was more Leo and Raph's idea than mine. Like I said, I didn't really agree, and I'm not even sure that I explained it properly."

"I guess that I can see the reasoning," Don conceded. "Although it's a bit of a stretch. But Mikey, you were the one turtle that fought for me to stay here. Why didn't you tell me all this?"

"Like you said, I always tried to take your side. Even before Bishop got a hold of you, it was you and me trying to keep the family together after Dad died. Leo was so depressed and burdened with his new role. Raph was so mad and hot-tempered, even though it was just the way that he was mourning. It was always you and me putting out the fires together. When you chose to stay at Area 51 and leave me alone with all of that, it really hurt me."

"I couldn't have left even if I wanted to," Donatello reasoned. "You know that."

"I do," Michelangelo conceded, "But none of us knew that at the time. Besides, we're talking about emotions, not logic. You left me behind with that mess, and I was hurt, but I tried my best to forgive you and move on. I kept taking your side. I took your side in everything - every decision that you made about the babies, and our future lives. I took your side every single time because I wanted to keep the peace. They're mostly your kids, and I wanted the major decisions to be yours. You got so much support from me, Donatello. Even when Leo and Raph would corner me and try to get me to change my mind, I always, always, took your side."

Michelangelo bit his lip. The next part was hard to say. "Then, on the night you left, I saw you looking to me for support again, like I could save you or something. I knew that I should stand up for you, but in that moment, it felt like it wasn't you and me trying to keep the peace together anymore. It felt like it was only me, that I was all alone, and you were all alone, and Leo and Raph were maybe united for once. I just didn't know what to do. I just thought, maybe that I needed time to think, to stop trying to force people to get along and to think for myself instead. Because, if I kept automatically taking your side, and you did die, then that would be all on me, wouldn't it? And you wouldn't be here at all anymore, and I really would be alone against them. Only now, they'd hate me, because it would've been my fault that you were gone."

"Oh, Mikey," Don said. "I never meant to put you in that position. I never meant to make you feel so alone."

"I only meant to think for a day or two. I expected you to come back, and I was going to tell you that I'd keep supporting you, that I was on your side and that I'd keep fighting for you. But then, you moved out. You told Leo and not me." Michelangelo paused for a minute. The hurt that was showing on his normally cheerful face broke Donatello's heart.

"Earlier, you asked me what you did that was so wrong that we would freeze you out and abandon you," Michelangelo continued. "I guess that I have the same question for you. Why did you freeze me out? The phone works both ways, Donatello. Why didn't you call me? I was always here for you, but after you left, it was like you dropped off the face of the earth. You have this whole apartment to yourself, but you didn't even invite me over."

"I thought." Don swallowed hard, but couldn't hide how choked up he was. "I thought that you guys disowned me. I didn't think that you wanted to hear from me. I only called Leo because he was the leader, but I never meant…" Don wiped away a tear. "I never meant to hurt you. You're right that you were my biggest advocate in the family. I guess that I never properly thanked you for that."

Even though it was so hard to move, Donatello put in the effort to get up from his chair and give Michelangelo a strong hug. "I'm sorry that I hurt you. I was too focused on myself and the babies and this whole thing with the Triceraton to see what I was doing to you. I was being a self- centered jerk, Mikey. I hope that you can forgive me."

Michelangelo put on his customary happy face. "Ah, water under the bridge. Name a baby after me and we'll call it even."

Donatello laughed. "I can't do that, you know. Much as I might like too. It wouldn't be fair to Leo and Raph."

"Who cares about those guys? It's me and you against the world right?"

"I guess that is right," Don realized. "But please remember that my decisions are my own. I had a similar discussion with April the other day. As much as I have needed and appreciated your support, I don't want anyone to beat themselves up or feel responsible for decisions that I've made."

"I won't," Michelangelo promised. "And from now on, I'll try to be honest with you if I think that you aren't making the right ones."

"Thanks," Don replied.

"So, do you forgive me too?" Michelangelo asked. "I know that I really hurt you, but all that we can do is move forward, right?"

"Right," Don said. "How about I don't name a baby after you, and we call it even?"

"Deal," Mikey agreed. He stuck his hand out and the two shook on it.

That night, Don and Mikey hung around and watched TV, but as far as Mikey was concerned, the only place that Don belonged was in bed. The poor guy looked exhausted. It was still early, but given that Don apparently only slept in short spurts these days, that didn't matter. He looked like he desperately needed to lie down. He kept arching his back and grimacing, then squirming around on the sofa. There were bags under his eyes, and it was pretty obvious that he wasn't comfortable at all.

"Do you want to turn in, Don?" Michelangelo suggested.

Don looked rather offended. "Are you trying to get rid of me?"

Michelangelo couldn't tell if his brother was being serious or not. Don had been pretty clingy ever since that morning's heart-to-heart. "No, but you definitely don't have to stay up just to keep an eye on me. It's not like I'm going to sneak off or anything," Mikey promised. "Just go get some rest. We both know you need it."

Donatello rubbed his eyes. He readjusted his position yet again but found no relief. "Okay," Don finally conceded. He attempted to get up, but he couldn't quite make it to his feet. He was about to try again but then changed his mind. Don rested a hand on his stomach and looked meaningfully at his brother. "Um, where do you want to sleep tonight Mikey?"

Michelangelo turned to Donatello. "I hadn't really thought about it. The couch should be fine, though."

"If you're planning to stay awhile, it might get uncomfortable," Donatello replied. "If you want to stay in the bed again, it would be okay."

Michelangelo shrugged. "That's alright, Donnie. I know you need your space right now."

Donatello's gaze drifted downwards. "Well, yeah. It's just that… it's getting harder for me to get up on my own, and sometimes I wake up in the night and need to get up quickly, if you catch my drift."

Michelangelo chortled. "You know, for a minute there, I thought you were trying to convince me to sleep in there with you, but then you basically threatened to wet the bed. What sort of response are you hoping for here, Donnie?"

Donatello laughed hard, then clutched the broken rib he hadn't yet told Michelangelo about. "I swear, I haven't wet the bed yet, and I don't intend to. It just might be better for both of us if you were to bunk in there with me. The bed is plenty big enough. We could use separate blankets, even go head-to-toe if you prefer."

"Your feet smell. Besides, being head-to-toe won't make any difference if you wet the bed," Michelangelo teased.

Donatello laughed harder, and the pain in his rib forced him to end with a whimper. "Stop making me laugh. Seriously, I promise not to wet the bed."

Michelangelo smiled at Don. One night in Don's room had been plenty. Don snored, which was ironic because he used to be the quietest sleeper amongst the turtles. He also took up a ton of space right now. He moved restlessly and whimpered in his sleep and drooled.

He also clearly wanted Mikey beside him, but he was afraid to come right out and say it. Mikey knew Don well enough to see right through the act.

"Okay. Sleeping in there with you sounds pretty good, I guess," Michelangelo decided.

Donatello rewarded Michelangelo with a bright smile. Mikey returned it, and then went back to watching TV.

But Donatello didn't move.

"Were you waiting for me to go with you?" Mikey eventually asked. "Because it's super early."

"It's just that I've got this cracked rib," Don began.

"Donnie!" Michelangelo cringed in sympathy.

"It's okay for now," Donatello claimed. "But it wouldn't take much to completely break it, and that would be dangerous for the babies and I. I could really use some help getting up and down, just to be on the safe side." Donnie rubbed his side and tried his best to look as pathetic as possible.

"Hey. I see what you're doing here. I'm supposed to be the master of the puppy dog eyes," Michelangelo huffed.

"You can come back out here after if you want. Just please help me get settled in bed first," Donatello shamelessly pled.

There was really no question that Michelangelo would do it. He was here to help after all, not just chill on the sofa and eat Donnie's food. Mikey made an obviously fake exasperated noise as he rose from the couch. He offered Don a hand in getting up. "Come on. Let's turn in for the night, roomie. Pretty sure all the cool kids are going to bed at 7 PM these days, anyway."