CHAPTER TWENTY

PERFECTION OF PURPOSE

Raphael wasn't asleep when the phone rang, but he pretended to be. He listened hard from his place on the couch, but he couldn't hear. A moment later, he felt a warm hand press to his arm. He tensed and looked up. Spirit was leaning over the back of the couch. "I have good news, and I have bad news," she announced.

He glared at her. "What?" he demanded.

She shifted her weight. "Well, that was Dr. Rossini on the phone. He had a family emergency and needed to make sure I was coming in because otherwise there would be no one there with the subject since Catherine and Paul are both in the Capitol talking to the board this morning."

"And that means what to me?" Raphael demanded.

"It means that we'll have the lab all to ourselves and I can do the testing this morning instead of waiting until tonight like I'd thought I would have to."

"So that's good?" he guessed.

"Yes, that's very good."

"So what's the bad news?"

She sighed as she perched on the arm of the couch. "The baby died last night."

Raphael's eyes slid closed as the words sunk in. "How?" he whispered.

"We don't know yet. We'll perform an autopsy tomorrow and find out. Rossini wouldn't talk over the phone about his condition before he died because of the nature of the information. This whole project is highly classified, you know."

"Yeah, I guessed that," he shot back angrily. He forced his emotions aside and looked up at her. "What about Donny?"

"Donny?"

"My brother."

"Oh," she realized. "He was fine at last check."

Raphael breathed a sigh of relief.

"How exactly did you plan to get him away from the building?" she asked.

He glared at her. "That supposed to mean I'm on my own getting him out?"

She shrugged. "I'll make sure he's stabalized and show you how to get him out of the building. After that, he's your problem."

"Well, I hitchhiked last time," he growled.

She shook her head. "He's not human," she informed him non-chalantly. "Frankly, he's in a lot better condition than you ever were when they were working with you. We're not trying to change him. The only reason I agreed to this was because frankly, we really don't need him anymore. But we could use you."

She stood up and turned away. "Oh, and by the way," she mumbled. "I suggest you make arrangements to get him and yourself out of town because I'm going to tell them you pulled a gun on me. I'm not losing my entire future over this, Raphael."

"I don't care what you tell them," Raphael answered. He stood to his feet. "But I'm getting him out of there first," he informed. "Then you can do whatever the hell you want to me."

She shrugged. "That was how I figured we'd do it."

"Then get dressed," he ordered. "I want to leave now."

***

Donatello was alive. Raphael could tell by the monitors beeping steadily. He was hooked up to a dozen different machines, but he was alive. Raphael swallowed hard and watched as Spirit removed the IV and pulled off the sensors. She shut off the monitors and pulled a blanket over the still figure. Raphael still could not speak.

"He's stable," Spirit assured him as she did something underneath the bed/table. "Just unconscious. He should wake up in an hour or so and feel fine."

"He'd better," Raphael threatened, finding his voice. Still, it was much weaker than he'd hoped it would be.

Spirit only laughed as she folded the blanket over the creature's head and pushed the door open. "I've made arrangements to have him moved to a different lab," she informed. "That's how we're getting him out of here. You're going to attack me as we're driving."

"You did that on your own?" he asked suspiciously.

She glared at him. "Hey, do you want my help or not? Don't question me; let's just do this."

They wheeled him to the elevators, down to the main floor, and out a side door where a white van was ready and waiting. "Thank you, Allen," Spirit smiled as a tall black man opened the back doors of the vehicle. The legs folded underneath the cot, and it slid in easily. The man handed her the keys and she turned them over to Raphael.

"You can drive," she informed. "I'm not entirely sure where we're going."

He snatched the keys and walked around to the driver's side. She slipped in beside him and remained silent as they drove through the city. They pulled into an alley and she opened the door. "No," he snapped.

She raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, no?"

"I mean you're staying here." He opened the door and slid to the ground.

She eyed him suspiciously. "How do I know you'll be back?" she asked.

"Because I said I would be," he answered coldly.

"But how do I know?"

"Where am I gonna go, Spirit?" he demanded. "He ain't in any condition to be on the run."

She considered that for a moment. "Okay," she finally agreed. "You have five minutes."

"I'll be back in ten," he informed her. "I can't get there in five."

He left her in the van and opened the back of it. "Donny? You awake?"

Donatello didn't move. That was fine. He didn't really expect him to. He'd been through this once before.

Walking through the dark tunnels gave him a strange sense of deja vu. Yes, he had done this before. He'd walked this exact path, carrying his brother. He'd laid him in this exact spot, and then he'd left. Raphael stood still for a moment and weighed his options. If he had to face Leonardo, he knew he would never leave. Leo wouldn't let him. And he had to go with her. Aside from him having given his word, she was parked dangerously close to the lair. It wouldn't take much for them to find this place. In a week, Donatello might be feeling strong enough to leave. Raphael knew they'd leave as soon as Don was able. They'd run and be safe, as long as no one disturbed them while Donny was recovering.

He could tell Leo what had happened. At that point his brother would probably kill Spirit and think that was the end of it. Maybe it would be. But he couldn't take that risk. He had to buy time. And if they had him, they would be sated. It would give Donny time, and that was what was most important. He didn't go through all this to have his brother not make it for any reason.

He knelt next to the still figure and placed a hand on his shoulder. Maybe he'd be back. Maybe he wouldn't. He didn't really know. He knew one thing: he was placing his life in Spirit's hands. And that gave him very little comfort. Still, it would be worth it as long as his brother survived. His whole life he'd hated the fact that he couldn't take Mike's place. But now, he had the chance to step in for Don. And he was going to do it no matter what.

Donatello stirred and Raphael backed away. He had to get away from here. He knew Leo would look for him if he thought he might be nearby, so he didn't signal this time. He took one last look at Donatello, then turned and walked into the darkness.

***

Leonardo looked up as the front door swung open. He glanced up and was on his feet in a fraction of a second. "Donny!"

Donatello leaned against the wall for support, gripping it tightly. Mica flew out of her room as Leo vaulted over the back of the couch. "Oh my god!" she cried, racing to him.

Leo reached him first and quickly slipped underneath his arm, supporting his weight. Donatello swooned, unsteady on his feet. It had taken him nearly ten minutes to walk down the tunnel to the front door. He was dizzy and weak, though quickly regaining consciousness. He remembered who he was first, then where he had been. But he couldn't remember how he'd gotten where he was. He didn't care. He could feel everything inside of him sigh with relief as he realized that he was home. That he was safe.

Mica hugged him and he let go of the wall, knowing Leo would support him if he fell. He slipped his arm around her waist. "Hi Mica," he whispered. "Did you miss me?"

Tears streamed from her eyes as she held him, almost afraid to let go. She was afraid that this was a dream, and that he would be gone when she awoke. She couldn't remember how many of these dreams she'd had in the past few weeks. But he was real. She could feel the warmth from his body and hear his labored breathing in her hair. She pulled away and wiped her eyes, looking him over carefully. "Are you okay?"

He nodded slightly, closing his eyes. "I think so."

Leonardo led him carefully over to the couch and he breathed deep as he sat down, leaning his head back. "You wanna lay down?" Leo suggested.

"No," Don answered quietly. He'd been laying down for far too long.

"How did you get here?" Mica asked. She watched as he took a few shallow breaths, but didn't answer. Fear flooded through her. "Donny?" She could hear her own voice shake.

He opened his eyes just barely. "I'm okay..." he breathed. "I feel... okay... Don't worry... I'm just... so tired..."

Leo rested a hand on his shoulder. "You want me to help you to bed?"

Donatello breathed out, but could not answer. He felt himself slipping away into a dark sea of exhaustion. The last thing he felt was a blanket being wrapped around him...

***

Raphael watched as she inserted the IV into the back of his hand. He said nothing. She was talking, but he wasn't paying close enough attention to make sense of her words. He watched the fluid seep down the tube to his arm and she injected something into a small casing near his hand.

He closed his eyes and breathed deep, leaning his head back against the chair. He didn't really know what she was doing to him. At this point, he didn't really care.

His mind wandered as he felt the toxins race through his veins. He'd always wondered about federal execution, and what it would feel like. There were two different ideas: one being that the person would feel panic and pain as his heart stopped, and the other that he would just slip away. Raphael didn't really care which was true. Pain had never scared him, nor had death. He wasn't about to hide from either.

He felt a mask cover his mouth and nose and breathed in drugging air that made him choke and gag. She was killing him. That thought hit him suddenly, but strangely enough, it didn't startle him. For some reason, he didn't really even care.

He breathed deep, accepting whatever toxins she was giving him. His entire life, he'd been searching for something. A completeness to his life. When he was young, he'd thought that normalicy would complete him. To be human, to live a life above ground. He'd never been happy. And once he had that, somehow, it still wasn't enough. It was only then that he'd realized what had happened. He'd gone everywhere he wanted to go and done everything he wanted to do, but he still hadn't found that missing piece to the puzzle. And he never would find it, he knew. Because it was gone. It had died in a lab just like this one, fifteen years ago.

Regrets? Oh, he had plenty of those. Too many to go over in the last few minutes that he could still think. He'd never been in want of a good dose of guilt. It had always been readily available for him. He sighed. There were so many things he wanted to do over, but he knew he never could.

A man will spend his entire life striving to fulfil his destiny. The words came back to him clearly. Only in his last few moments will he be complete and perfect. For death itself could be the ultimate purpose of a man's life.

He'd heard Splinter say that once. It had always bothered him, to think there were people in the world who were living just to die. To think that he might be one of them. But his brother's death had changed his entire perspective on death. He would've gladly given his life long ago if it could've saved Michaelangelo. But it couldn't. Maybe in those last few minutes, as his brother died, he fulfilled some ultimate destiny that Raphael couldn't fathom. Fate had not allowed him to take his brother's place, because his life was not yet perfected. In the eyes of God, he still had purpose.

Donatello.

It struck him to think that the last painful fifteen years of his life were lived for this purpose: to give himself in exchange for his brother. It was strangely ironic. He had wanted for so long to find his own worth. Now he understood. As he slipped away, he breathed a sigh of contentment.

He was perfected.

***

Donatello opened his eyes slowly and looked around. Where was he? He was home. In the living room. He sat up slowly. His muscles ached, but they obeyed. "Donny?"

He turned and saw Mica walk into the room. "Hey," he greeted. His voice was dry and scratchy. The words burned.

"How do you feel?" she asked, sitting on the edge of the couch. She pressed a hand to his forehead and he allowed it.

"I'm okay, I think," he rasped. "My throat hurts and I'm sore but... I think I'm alright."

"Can I get you anything?"

"Yeah," he whispered. "Tea. And Leo."

She smiled. "Okay. Just rest here. I'll be right back."

Don lay back down as she disappeared. He closed his eyes and tried to organize his thoughts. For the first time in he didn't know how long, he could think clearly. He knew one thing: if he'd ever in his life considered the idea that it might be fun to be high or drunk, those thoughts were gone now.

Leonardo appeared before the tea did. Donny could feel himself being watched and he welcomed the familiar spirit to his side. Leo knelt in front of the couch, knowing he'd been seen. "You okay?" he asked.

"I think so."

"Pain?"

"No. Not really."

"We're stocked on painkillers, should you need them."

Donatello smiled faintly. "I'm okay," he assured his brother.

Mica appeared behind the couch and touched Donny's arm. He looked up, then rose as she offered him the tea. "Arigato gozaimasu," he thanked her.

She bowed politely. That was one Japanese phrase she knew. "Do itashimashite."

She saw Leonardo smile faintly and knew she'd mispronounced something, but he didn't correct her and she didn't ask. Donatello sipped the tea slowly, feeling it burn and at the same time soothe as it ran down his throat. "Donny?" Leo asked. He looked up and met his brother's concerned look. "Where's Raph?"

Donatello chose to ignore that question for the time being. For one thing, he had no answer to it. For another, it brought up a point that was at this time much more crucial. "There's something you need to know," he informed quietly. "About how this all happened."

"What?" Mica asked.

Donny hesitated for a moment, trying to think of the best way to word this. "The man I went to see..." he began. "The man I was talking to when they arrested me..."

"He was Japanese," Leo continued when Don did not. "We saw the security tapes."

"You know him," Donatello whispered. "But I'm not sure you remember him." He took a few breaths as Leo and Mica waited. "His name was Danno Kin."

Leo shook his head. He didn't recognize the name. "Why did you go to meet him?" Mica asked.

Donatello leaned back against the couch. "Because I had to know for sure."

"Know what?"

Don sighed. "You know, blame means so little when you look at the big picture. And yet it's big enough to destroy relationships, even close ones."

Mica and Leonardo glanced at each other, then back at Donatello. "I had to know how they found out. About us." He looked up and met Leo's stare. "I had to know what Mike died for. I had to know who told them."

He closed his eyes and looked away. "We've thought for so long that it was Raph," he continued. "But I had to know for sure. And I never thought I could until I heard from Kin." There was a long pause and he looked up again. "It wasn't Raph, Leo," he finally managed. "It was Yukio."

Leonardo's eyes widened. He hadn't heard that name in well over a decade, but he recognized it immediately. It flooded his mind with memories that he had forgotten.

"You need to control your freak brother! And tell him to keep his goddamn hands off my sister before he ends up killing her!"

Yukio and Raphael were instantly at each other's throats. "I hear you say 'freak' one more time and I'm gonna fucking take your head off!" Raphael threatened.

"Just try it," Yukio shot back.

Raphael's eyes blazed in anger. "Look, asshole, I don't care who you are or where you learned whatever the hell it is you learned. I may be a mutant, but I'm still Hamato Yoshi's student. First generation. Trained by the man himself, in a manner of speaking, not his students." He flicked his wrists, twirling the sais. Yukio did not move. "Wanna try me?" Raph asked in a low growl. "For real this time. Let's go. Fight to the death. You game?"

Leonardo felt as if the air had suddenly been squeezed from his lungs. He'd never even considered the idea that Yukio was responsible. Fight to the death. The words rang in his ears. Oh, god... He had engaged in that fight. What was worse, he'd won. He had won the biggest battle that they had ever fought. And he'd taken Michaelangelo's life.

Leo was too shocked to speak. Why hadn't he seen that? Why had he just assumed that once he left, Yukio did not live for very long? He'd certainly never thought that he lived long enough to sell them to the scientists. But they never knew that he was dead. Leonardo suddenly felt sick to his stomach as he considered a whole new set of emotions that he'd never even considered before.

"Her brother?" Mica whispered. Leo looked up at her. How did she know that? "My mother's? Who hated you? Raph said that he was dead."

"We didn't know that he wasn't," Don mumbled. "But then, we never knew that he was, either. Danno Kin was one of the two ninjas who were trying to kill him."

"Yukio is not here."

The twin figures spun around, both instinctively reaching for their weapons. Leonardo watched them from a safe distance, he brothers on either side a few steps back. "Who are you?" the ninja demanded.

"My name is Leonardo," he answered, stepping forward. He was uneasy, half-expecting a fight but not wanting to engage in one. "We don't wish to fight you."

The ninja studied him for a minute, then slid his katana back into its sheath. He bowed slightly. "Watashi no namae wa Nikko Ken'ichi desu," he greeted.

Leonardo stepped into the light filtering between the trees and inspected the intruder. "Yukio has left," he informed after a moment of silence. "If you wish to find him, you will have to do it alone."

"By the time they found him, he had a following," Donatello informed. "During a battle, he killed Ken'ichi. Kin fled back to Japan, to find help. And Yukio took that opportunity to go to the scientists."

Leonardo stared in shock. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. Why had he not thought of that before? Sudden guilt washed over him as he considered Raphael. For so many years, he'd hated him. For so long, he had blamed him for things that he'd had nothing to do with. He'd been as much a victim as Michaelangelo was.

His eyes were suddenly opened to a whole new dimension of reality. Raphael had loved his brother more than anything, and Leo suddenly knew that. That fact alone stole the breath from his lungs, and made his blood run cold. Raphael would have given anything to take his place. Suddenly, he realized how intense that pain was. All this time, Raphael had lived with the never-ending guilt, with feelings that consumed him with every step he took. It wasn't fair that he had lived and Mike had died. It wasn't fair that he was breathing, and his best friend was gone.

Leonardo felt that guilt, so much stronger than his own had ever been, wash over him in a slow and steady wave. Every passing second intensified the tight feeling in his chest, burning his eyes with hot, saline tears. And suddenly he knew why Raphael had left, what he was running from. It had never been his family, or his life, or his responsibilities. He was running from Raphael. Running to a new identity that he tried so hard to lose himself in. Trying desperately to get away from himself. He couldn't face who he was, knowing that for whatever reason, fate had chosen to keep him alive and to kill his best friend. So he ran, from himself, from everything he knew and everything he was, as a matter of self-preservation, of escaping immeasurable pain. Leo knew instinctively that if he had stayed, he probably would have committed suicide. The guilt was so strong, the depression so intense... And with Raphael's fierce emotions, it would've consumed him. Leo felt unable to breathe as he considered that.

"Where's...?" He stopped as he choked on his own voice. He was too shocked to speak. Burning tears stung the backs of his eyes as he realized everything at once, and tried to figure out how the pieces fit. "Raphael."

Donatello sighed deeply and closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly. "I don't know."

Leo stood and eyed the front door. He wanted to go find him. Everything inside of him wanted to go find him. But he knew from experience that he never would. How many hours of his life had he spent searching, for each one of his brothers? Why? Why them and not him? Why had he lived? Why had he never even seen these scientists, never felt their needles or the effects of their drugs? Why couldn't he take his brothers' places? Why couldn't he have saved Michaelangelo? Why couldn't he save Raphael? He suddenly felt the exact same pain that he knew Raphael had experienced, and he begged an answer from heaven. Why?

His heart beat so fast he felt like it could burst. He walked into his room and closed the door, then leaned against it as he slid to the floor, hearing his shell scrape the wood. Why? Why was he chosen to survive and to stand back watching as the world came tumbling down? Why was he so helpless? His own dispair combined with the feelings that had stirred inside of him as he'd realized Raphael's hidden pain, and he felt swept away.

He struggled to breathe and squeezed his eyes closed. He could feel hot tears burn his cheeks and he instinctively doubled over with his forehead to the floor, begging forgiveness from God and everyone else. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair!

He sobbed openly, not caring if anyone heard him. Agony tore at his emotions and he shook as it registered as an almost physical pain. The tears ran from his eyes and onto the rug. He was broken, overwhelmed. He cried until the tears wouldn't come anymore, and the excruciating pain became a dull ache in his soul. He knew, as he offered one last mournful sob, that that pain would never go away. It would be with him to the day he took his final breath.

He spread out on the floor, lying spread-eagle on his stomach. He wasn't sure he could move. His eyes hurt, his body felt numb, almost dead. He gasped in a breath and felt the tears start again, quietly now. Every last ounce of strength had been spent in his repentance. He lay still, waiting for something. Perhaps it was death, or some hope for life. Whatever he was waiting for, he knew he couldn't get up until he felt it. His body, his soul, felt so dead. And he realized just how dead he had been, all these years.

Leonardo...

The voice was almost audible. In this place where he felt and thought nothing, there was no barrier to break through. No consciousness separated him from the pure state of darkness, where he was open and vulnerable to the few people who knew how to reach his soul. He didn't fight it. He couldn't fight it if he'd wanted to, and he knew that. What?

He knew the voice. He knew the spirit. He was too weak and tired to feel any relief or think of any of the questions he wanted to ask. There were so many things he wanted to say, but none of them found words. They were all lost in the confused blur of thoughts. I want you to know something.

He sighed deeply as he felt tears trickle to the floor. The voice was so weak, the spirit so fragile. From a million miles away, Leonardo could tell he was dying. It didn't surprise him, but it broke his heart all over again. What's that?

There was a long pause and for a moment, Leo thought he had lost the link. But he could still feel his brother's presence nearby, as comforting as if he'd been standing right next to him. Kneeling, perhaps, with his hand on his shoulder. A part of him was afraid to be so exposed in Raphael's presence. But a larger part of him knew that he was safe, and that the distant spirit would only bring comfort to him. For that reason, he clung to it. He brought it nearer to his own soul, and submitted everything he was and everything he had to this feeling. The defensive walls dropped, and he lay with his heart wide open in his brother's presence, trusting him completely. I never meant to walk out on you, Leo.

The words swept through him, like a warmth through his veins. And at the same time, he felt so very cold. I know that now.

I don't know why I left, but I didn't mean to hurt you.

Leo took a deep breath in and released a quiet sob as he exhaled. It's okay. I know why you left.

Don't be angry anymore, okay? Mica really needs you to be her friend, to stop being the enemy. I know you can do it.

I'm glad one of us does.

There was another long pause. Leo swallowed, and fought for coherent thought. He didn't want to lose this connection. There were things he had to say. He had to find words. He knew he couldn't live with himself if he didn't. Raphael?

Yeah?

His eyes slid closed again and felt his body shudder. The thoughts faded, and left him alone in the darkness again, with only his brother's presence to guide him. He was so afraid of this, of all that he was feeling, and all that he was realizing. That thought alone sprang to his weakened mind, and he felt tears flow again as he admitted it. I don't know as I ever would've told you this before but... I'm scared.

He felt an inexplicable calm wash over him, as if Raphael had somehow placed his hand on his soul in the way that a mother would comfort her child with a hand on their shoulder. He choked back the tears, and wished nothing more than to see the face of this spirit. But it wasn't his face anymore. It was someone else. Someone human. This spirit was all that was left of his brother.

Don't be afraid, Leo, Raphael whispered. So patient. So unlike him. What would have happened, fifteen years ago, if Leonardo had admitted to being afraid? But then, fifteen years ago, Leo never would have admitted it. He probably wouldn't have even now if not for the fact that he knew Raphael could see directly into his soul. There was no defense left. Everything had been broken away, and Leo made no attempt to shield himself.

Everything we had is gone, he realized. It's been gone for a long time but... I guess I hid all of that behind my anger and never really... realized it.

Not everything.

Not everything?

No.

What's left?

There was a long silence. Leo?

Yeah?

I love you.

His heart broke. He began to sob again, hiding his face in his arm. He hadn't cried like this in years. He had never felt pain and grief this intense. When are you coming home, Raphael? he cried, not fighting the tears. He got no response for a long time and he felt hopelessness wash over him. Are you leaving again? Could you at least say good-bye?

That's what I'm doing.

With what little strength he had, he panicked as his fears were confirmed. No!

Leo, don't, Raphael whispered calmly. It's okay. I'm ready.

Leonardo struggled to take in a breath. Come home, Raph, he pleaded. Please come home. Do whatever you have to do.

An almost audible sigh echoed in the silence of the blackness. He felt it whisp over him, and heard the voice return. I can feel it in my veins, Leo. And I really don't have the strength to fight it.

Leo felt pain stab through him. No!

I miss Mike. And Splinter. I wanna go home, Leo.

Raph, please!

Leo?

Leonardo was too broken to reply. He could feel the warmth surrounding him begin to fade away and he clung to it desperately. Don't leave, Raph... Please don't let go. We'll get you out of there! I swear it!

Tell Mica I'm sorry...

No! You tell her yourself!

And I meant what I said, Leo... His muscles tensed, his heart wretching in his chest. The resolve of his brother's words burned. I love you.

He could almost feel Raphael's final breath against his face. It reached deep into his soul and stayed there, and the warmth died quickly. Leo turned onto his back and screamed at the ceiling, lost in a pain more intense than anything he'd ever known before. His spirit frantically tried to retrieve the life that was already long gone. The warmth and comfort was gone, and a feeling of loneliness had replaced it. He'd never felt so cold in all his life. His body shook as he turned on his side and instinctively curled into a ball. There were still so many things he needed to say. Things he had put off for far too long.

Why?

Why hadn't he said those things in the fifteen years that he could've tracked his brother down, just as Mica had done? Why hadn't he ever even thought to forgive Raphael in the weeks that he had been here? Why had he waited so long? Why had he allowed him to go, to sacrifice himself? Why hadn't he seen what was happening? There were so many things that he wanted to do differently.

He lay on the floor and let the few tears that remained escape. It was silent, and cold. He felt frozen and exhausted as he closed his eyes. For a long time, he heard only his staggered breathing. Then, a knock at the door. He closed his eyes against it, but felt the light flood the room, chasing away the icy shadows as Donatello stepped inside.

Leo forced himself to sit up, but couldn't make it to his feet. He didn't need to. Donny knelt in front of him, the door still open, and they stared at each other. There were no words. He could feel his brother prod at the emotion, and recoil as he realized the intensity, that it was more than he could take. Leo held his pride for just a moment, then collapsed into his brother.

And together they mourned...

***

"Hey Leo?"

He turned on his stomach and rested his head on his arms, trying to get more comfortable. He'd been in bed for over an hour and he still couldn't sleep. Guess Raphael couldn't either. The voice coming from the other bunk, below Michaelangelo, was more than welcome. "Hmm?"

"You think we'll ever, like, split up?"

He opened his eyes and looked over the side of the bed at his brother. He could just barely see him in the faint light coming from the candle. Master Splinter always let the candle burn out on its own. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean like when we grow up," Raph mumbled. "When we get older, like sixteen or something."

Leonardo smiled. "Sixteen's not that old."

"Well, you know what I mean," Raph shrugged, slipping his arms underneath his head.

Leo considered that for a moment. "I dunno," he finally answered. "I don't think so."

Raphael was quiet. "So you think we'll grow up and get old and die here? All together?"

"I wanna stay together."

The unexpected voice startled them both. Leo leaned down over the edge of the bed and looked down at Donatello. "Forever?" Leo questioned.

"Forever's a long time," Raphael mumbled.

Donny turned to his other side to face the open room. "Why would we ever split up?"

Raphael shrugged. "I dunno. Just... because?"

"You mean like if we ran away or something?" Mike interjected. Leo lay back as he realized that all three of his brothers were awake, just like him.

"No, stupid, I mean when we grow up," Raph answered.

"Be nice," Leo warned. "Sensei doesn't like 'stupid'."

Raphael smiled, but didn't answer. "I don't think I ever wanna leave," Donatello considered. "I mean, we've only got each other, right?"

"That's what Sensei says," Michaelangelo confirmed.

"Yeah, but... there's a whole lot out there, you know?" Raphael considered. "I mean..."

He cut off as the door opened. Master Splinter poked his head in. "Why do I hear voices in here?" he asked. "It is late. You should all be sleeping."

"Sorry, Sensei," Leo answered. "We were just talking. We'll go to sleep."

Splinter eyed them for a moment as they all turned away from each other, then closed the door. A tiny gust of chilled air swept through the room and extinguished the candle.