Author Note: Gotta apologise for the lateness - the UK is suffering a heatwave and I am a big puddle. Hard to type while melted! So, hope you like this. Last introspective chapter before we start kicking ass again.

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Splinter watched as the four turtles emerged from the barn where Michelangelo had previously been spending most of his time. They looked both determined and dejected. Obviously the training session hadn't gone as well as hoped, but nor did they seem about to give up.

Leonardo made his way back to the farmhouse, deep in thought. He hadn't expected them to be on top form after the period of forced recovery and the length of time since they had done any serious sparring against each other, but it had been worse than he had anticipated. His own movements were sluggish and too much exertion got him out of breath and wincing at the lingering pain from his injuries. Raph had obviously been working out but had not balanced that out with a great deal of ninjitsu and as a result was in good shape but with rusty fighting skills. Donnie also had been neglecting ninjitsu and seemed startled at the amount of concentration needed to do what had always come to him easily before. Only Mikey seemed on good form with his katas, but was still inexperienced with the nunchucks.

They had a hell of a lot of work ahead of them and even then, it might not be enough. Everything they knew of fighting, every move they had been taught, all their weapon skills – they had been bestowed upon them by the Shredder. They would have to pull out something unexpected to defeat him and the art of ninjitsu wasn't something they could exactly look up in a book.

Walking into the house, he saw Splinter at the window, looking out. "Is something wrong?"

Splinter turned his head. "You do not seem happy with how your training session has gone."

"It's just going to take some time," said Leo, sounding more confident than he felt. "This was only our first session."

"And yet, you seem concerned."

"I..." Leo sighed. "I'm trying to work out how we can change our fighting styles without starting all over again. Shredder taught us everything we know and we need to take him by surprise."

"I see," said Splinter, with a slight smile. "It is a shame that you do not know anyone else who practices ninjitsu but does not fight like the Shredder."

Leo almost smiled, but settled for raising an eye ridge instead. "I know what you're suggesting Splinter and I don't think it would work. You might have watched your Sensei practice and maybe you did practice and you're pretty good, but we need more than your self-taught methods. No offense."

"I think we should give him a chance," said a voice from the door.

Leo turned to see Mikey leaning against the door frame and frowned. "Just because he can fight doesn't mean he can teach us anything."

"He's been helping me," said Mikey, almost defensively. "Showing me how to use the chucks properly. He knows what he's talking about. It wouldn't kill us to try."

Leonardo opened his mouth to argue, then thought about it and nodded instead. "Fine. We'll try it out. But if it doesn't work, we'll just have to think of something else."

"But not right now," said Mikey hastily. "We only just finished one session – and I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry," said Raph, entering the kitchen and giving Mikey a playful punch on the arm.

"I'm a growing turtle!" "

Yeah, you're not careful and the only thing growing'll be your gut."

"Oh ha ha. Listen to the funny mutant."

Splinter smiled at the banter between the two as they went over to the cupboards and began rooting for food. Raphael pulled a tinfoil-wrapped parcel out and looked at it doubtfully. Mikey threw open the cupboards at random, perusing the contents hurriedly and leaving them open as he moved to the next. Spying something, he grabbed it and turned to Raph.

"Check it out. Turtle wax!"

Raph groaned and palmed his face. Splinter chuckled, amused, fighting away the momentary twinge of sadness. How many of these moments had he missed over the years? How many jokes, how many brotherly moments, how many memories?

Something else to blame the Shredder for.

But the past was over and could not be changed. His sons were together, safe, alive. He should be treasuring these times, not mourning the ones that had not seen.

Leonardo was watching them too, not quite smiling but seeming humoured by the exchange. Splinter lost his smile. The leader seemed harder than he had done before. He had been tough, stubborn, but never as angry and bitter.

Donatello chose that moment to enter, a book in his hand. "Anything to eat around here?"

"It's Mikey's turn to cook," said Raph promptly.

"Why is it always my turn?" asked Mikey.

"Because Leo there could burn water," smirked Raph. "And Donnie treats it like a chemistry project – the more explosions, the better."

"And Raph thinks nutrition begins and ends with noodles," added Don.

Mikey gave an exaggerated sigh. "It's tough being the only turtle around here who knows how to cook."

"You get enough practice – ya never stop eating," said Raph.

"I'll make something extra-special for you," said Mikey. "Some one pass the arsenic."

"Hey!"

Don grinned. He didn't realise how much he had missed just joining in with teasing his brothers. If only they could get Leo to join in, it would be like old times. The four of them, joking around and laughing...

And the threat of the Shredder, Oruku Saki, still hanging over their heads.

Abruptly, Leo walked out of the kitchen. Don watched him with a thoughtful frown on his face. Mikey glanced after him, rubbing his scars, before turning his attention back to the food. And Raphael momentarily debated going after him before deciding it wasn't the time.

Splinter frowned. None of the turtles seemed inclined to go after Leonardo and he found that somewhat worrying. Although it was possible that Leonardo merely needed time to himself, it seemed to him that the turtle would benefit more from a friendly ear.

Unfortunately, that ear would be unlikely to come from him. His attempts at bonding with Leonardo had been met with disinterest. The turtle was polite and respectful but had made it clear he did not look upon Splinter as a member of his family. Maybe that would change in time, but the more Leonardo cut himself off, the less likely it was that he would consider opening himself up in the future.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"Meditation is an important part of Bushido," Splinter told them. He had chosen to use the barn as the place to impart some of his Sensei's teachings, hoping that the distance from their human allies and the familiarity and associations of the barn would encourage them. He had won Michelangelo over but both Leonardo and Raphael seemed dubious and Donatello was inscrutable.

"Saki already taught us how to meditate," said Leonardo.

"Maybe," said Splinter. "But how often have you done so since leaving the Foot?"

"Um..." Mikey gave his most innocent grin. "Reading comic books is a little like meditating, right?"

Splinter fought back a chuckle. Of all the turtles, Michelangelo had been the one who had most benefited from their stay at the farmhouse. He had cheered up, come out of himself and reminded Splinter of the toddler turtle he had once been. And in spite of his initial reluctance, he had been the one to make Splinter feel at home.

"I'm afraid not. Meditation takes a great amount of focus, focus which I know all of you possess. I have seen you all attain such concentration in other things and believe you would all benefit from applying it to your meditation."

Raph shrugged. "But it's like Leo said, we already know how to meditate."

"But thus far, none of you have achieved the very thing that meditation is to aid. To find outer strength through inner balance."

"Are you sure that's not the other way around?" asked Mikey.

Splinter gave him a stern look and Mikey shut up. "Ninja is not just of the body, but of the mind. This lesson is one of the most important of ninjitsu and yet Oruku Saki has seen it adequate to teach you merely a relaxation technique. You must spend many hours in meditation."

"We usually have candles," said Donnie.

"A true ninja has no need of external aids. The candle is something to focus on, but now you must be able to achieve serenity through your own will."

Don, Raph and Mikey exchanged glances and shrugs before shrugging and closing their eyes.

Leonardo took a moment to hold Splinter's gaze, trying to read the rats intentions but seeing nothing more than the same cool regard mirrored back at him. "Do you really think you can help us?"

"I believe I can teach you to help yourselves. If you are willing to let me."

Leonardo nodded. "I'll do what I have to. To protect this family."

"As shall I," replied Splinter gravely.

Leonardo closed his eyes and the session began. Once he was sure they had all achieved the concentration necessary to block out their surroundings, Splinter regarded the four of them without their knowledge. He recognised Michelangelo's search for happiness for both himself and his family, welcomed this new part of his character. Donatello's determination to make his brothers suffer less than they had to in the best way he knew how. Raphael guiding the pair of them while Leonardo had been unable, taking care of them through his determination to protect them. The three of them had taken the steps needed to become a closer family and although not there yet, had become more close knit since leaving New York.

Of all of them, Leonardo worried him the most. He had hardened since the Shredder's cowardly attack, become colder and less trusting. He too wanted to protect his family, do his best for them – but was doing so at the expense of their affection. He was sacrificing their friendship and brotherhood for their safety and seemed unable to believe that he could both ensure their well being and have their love too.

But the lesson had been learned and Leonardo had always taken advice on board. The Shredder had demonstrated that as soon as emotion took over, the family would fall. Leonardo had let emotion drive him, rescuing Michelangelo and Splinter himself, hiding them, Being unwilling to immediately face the Foot, leaving the sewers alone in the first place – and it had got him, all of them, nearly killed. Or that at least was how Leonardo saw it. The Shredder had provided for them until the moment emotions had become involved. And then things had changed.

The four of them – all four of them – needed to become a unit again. And it wasn't the training that would prove the hardest part of their preparation for the Shredder, but learning to trust one another. The Shredder could not be defeated if they weren't able to build their group spirit. Splinter rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He had some ideas how to counteract their rift. Whether or not it worked was another matter altogether.

&&&&&&&&&&&&

"You require collective focus," said Splinter, a few days after the meditation session. He had been quite pleased at the way things had been going. The turtles had seemed more at ease with each other outside of training sessions, often seeking each other out to spend time together. And they all seemed less likely to isolate themselves. Donatello spent less time browsing the internet or tinkering with gadgets and when he did, he didn't seem to mind people being with him, particularly April who would help him with whatever he was doing, whereas before he would politely but pointedly ask them to leave. Michelangelo had ceased spending all his free time training, seeming to see the work he did with his brothers as adequate and instead could often be found joking around, wandering the woods or completely engrossed in a television show. Raphael seemed to have relaxed about the Foot finding them, still checking the property as soon as he woke and before he slept, but not staying up all night to do so or waking early to be certain. He also spent more and more time with Casey, messing with April's ancient van or wrestling.

All three of them still had their melancholy moments. Donatello would hole himself up sometimes, Michelangelo occasionally went off on his own, Raphael had been known to get up in the night just to make sure the area was secure. But those times were getting less and Splinter was aware that everyone needed time alone, away from their family, just to reflect.

Only Leonardo seemed to be becoming even more isolated, introverted. He trained as if possessed and since Splinter had taught them the true benefits of meditation, had spent most of his free time doing so.

"You must work harder!"

"He's worse than Saki was!" Raph complained when he thought Splinter couldn't hear him.

"No one could be worse than Saki," muttered Mikey.

"I know what he means though," said Donnie ruefully. "We're working as hard as we can! What else can we do?"

"Work harder," replied Leo.

And so they did. In the following weeks, they trained, sparred and meditated at Splinter's direction. That it was Leonardo who was most dedicated to improving although he had been the one most resistant to Splinter attempting their training had not gone unnoticed by anyone. Once he had accepted that Splinter might have something to teach, he had been more than willing to listen. The old rat just hoped it might carry over when he tried to talk to Leonardo about his change in attitude.

Splinter found Leonardo alone one day, several weeks after they had begun training under him. Their marked improvement in ninjitsu had pleased all of them, except the leader it seemed. Leonardo sat in the barn that Michelangelo rarely used to over train anymore, meditating, eyes closed.

"Is there something I can help you with Splinter?"

The rat sat cross-legged opposite the turtle, unsurprised that his presence had been sensed. He had wanted the teen to know he was there after all. "I wish to speak with you regarding your behaviour."

Leonardo opened his eyes. "I don't understand."

Splinter laid his walking stick across his knees. "A long time ago, before the Foot raided our meagre lair and forcibly removed us all from it, I made many observations about all of you. You Leonardo were always the most protective of your family. You insisted on sleeping closest to the exits in order that you might be able to shield them from anything that entered uninvited. When they strayed too close to the exits or the sewer water, it was you who would pull them back and refuse to take no for an answer, even though your brothers were rarely grateful for it. And yet, you were also a part of their unit, playing together, talking together when I could barely understand your childish chatter. In some respects you have remained the same as that child, still protective even when it gains you nothing but disdain. Yet in other ways, you have changed. And not for the better."

"I'm different than I was as a toddler?" Leonardo snorted. "Who isn't?"

"You deliberately misunderstand me. When first we spoke, when I was still imprisoned, you seemed hurt that you had been left out of the secret that your brothers shared. But you worked to regain their trust and you succeeded. And you have repaid them this by not trusting them in return."

"But – but that's not true! I do trust them! With my life!"

"But not their own." Splinter regarded Leonardo gravely. "You choose to carry your burden alone. When your brothers reach out to you, you choose to turn your back. You have no qualms about laying down your own life to save theirs, yet you cannot give them what they need from you the most. This is not entirely your fault, I do understand this. You have been raised to believe that ultimately, no matter how close your family is, you cannot rely upon them wholly, that you must keep your secrets. Your experience is that the Sensei must use intimidation and fear to gain respect and that effective leadership rarely has understanding or kindness. You are not ruthless or cruel by nature and it is for this reason that you choose instead to detach yourself from your brothers. And this may well lead to your downfall should you decide to return to New York and face the Foot." "

I..." Leonardo shook his head. "I don't claim to be perfect."

"But you expect yourself to be. You must accept that you do the best you can and let the other things pass. Or else true happiness and the balance you seek will be always beyond your reach."

Splinter rose and walked from the barn, not sure that he had done any good but hoping that Leonardo would realise his path was not helping his brothers in the slightest. Words were often not enough, but they were all that Splinter had. He just had to hope that they were enough.

Leonardo watched Splinter leave and took a deep breath, trying to calm down. It failed. Instead, he made a fist and hit the floor hard.

Stupid rat... he just doesn't get it!

&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Three months previously...

"Nothing?" Oruku Saki slammed his hand against the table at which he had been observing the traditional Japanese tea ceremony before Stockman had intruded. "You're telling me that in spite of their injuries, in spite of the explosion, that there is NOTHING?"

Stockman swallowed nervously. He had heard all about Saki's legendary ill tempers. "I'm afraid not. There is a large amount of turtle DNA in the area, but nothing to suggest that all the turtles were killed in the antiques store. It comes mostly from blood and although it is too badly damaged to determine if the samples are all from the same turtle, there's simply nothing to indicate that four turtles perished. I suspect at least one did, due to the large quantities..."

"Suspicion," sneered Saki. "I cannot base my strategies upon your suspicion!"

"Uh..." Stockman referred again to his notes. "Also, although there is some human DNA present, it is simply impossible to know if this is from either my erstwhile former assistant and her vigilante friend or merely a collection of samples from the Foot ninjas who were injured or killed in the store."

Saki narrowed his eyes. "I gave you money, a state of the art laboratory, the many things you insisted you needed in order to better serve me. And yet, you are unable to tell me if my enemies are dead or alive?"

Making what might just turn out to be the biggest mistake of his life, Stockman sniffed imperiously and straightened his tie, dismissing Saki's words. "Science can only do so much, once some fool has decided to subject my samples to such intense heat. That I was able to deduce as much as I was is an indication of my superiority in the field. Another scientist would have been able to tell you little more than that blood was present. It is thanks to me that you know your enemies are grievously wounded."

"And an animal that has been wounded is likely to turn vicious and attack through blind rage and pain." Unnoticed, Saki pressed a button located beneath the table, outwardly remaining calm. "The facts remain the same Dr Stockman. You have failed to deliver what I wanted from you."

"The sheer impossibility of the task should be obvious," whined Stockman, not realising that the door behind him had slid open, revealing the massive bulk that was Hun, still bruised and battered from his fight at Second Time Around and dying to take his bad mood out on someone. "And were it not for me, you would have had no idea where to lay your trap. It was I who linked April with Donatello. If anyone is to blame for the trap going awry, it is not me."

A hand fell on his shoulder.

Startled, Stockman turned his head and realised he was in deep shit.

"What? No! Get your hands off me, you OAF!"

"Take him away," said Saki with a dismissive wave of his hand. "And ensure he is punished for this recent failure."

"NO!" Stockman struggled uselessly against the sheer strength of Hun. "No, I did not fail! I gave them to you on a plate! I analysed those samples better than anyone else could have! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!"

Stockman's shrieks were abruptly cut off as the door closed. Saki closed his eyes briefly and thought about the problem that the turtles presented.

They were not all dead. At least one or two of them remained alive, as no doubt did the rat. They would be preparing to strike at him in retribution for the attack at the antiques store.

But when?

They were injured, all of them. He had broken the rats leg himself, had seen the damage done to Raphael. Michelangelo and Donatello had fared better in the fight but had been in need of recuperation themselves. And judging by what he had seen of Leonardo, he doubted their leader would have lasted through the night.

When they did strike, they would be without their leader, blinded by anger over their losses. They would strike without thinking, wanting nothing more than retribution. And they would fail. T

he rat was an unknown quantity. The numbers were an unknown quantity. But his success was assured. They knew nothing more than what he had taught them of fighting and their hearts would be heavy. They had grown up in the skyscraper, but they had no idea of all of its secrets.

Or all of his.

Michelangelo, if he lived, would be the first to die. Saki believed the turtle to be alive. He should have been cowed, afraid of his Sensei as he always had been. Instead he had fought back. Disrespect. Saki's most hated trait in anyone.

Donatello could watch. He suspected the brains of the operation would have lived. It seemed inconceivable, he had trapped them, but if anyone could get them out of such a situation, it would have to be Donatello. The turtle was well able to rely on his brawn – but he preferred to use his brain. That would be his undoing.

There was no way Raphael could have lived, surely. He had been leaking blood all over the floor, barely able to stand. Saki had to give grudging respect to the turtles sheer guts for remaining on his feet as long as he had. And if by some miracle he had survived, he would be the one most likely to lose control when face to face with Saki. To strike in anger was to surrender control of the situation and without control, a ninja was lost.

And Leonardo. Dead. Without their leader, the others would fall. None of the others were capable of taking on the mantle of responsibility, although Raphael had foolishly thought that he would be the one chosen by Saki to do so.

They would recover, one or two or three of them, it hardly mattered. They would attack in weeks or months or years and Saki would take them down easily. He was prepared for them.

And he would let the rat see the family he had fought so hard to protect as infants and as teens be slaughtered before he cut the rodent down too.

&&&&&&&&

"Guys."

The three turtles turned to look at Leonardo as he entered the living room. Prior to that they had been playing Trivial Pursuit with April and Casey. Donnie was winning. Casey was way behind and unhappy about it. Splinter had declined to join them, choosing instead to meditate in front of the fire. Although his posture hadn't changed, they all knew he was paying attention. It was almost a week since Leonardo and Splinter had their little talk and Leo had thought a lot about what Splinter had said. He wasn't sure he could change. Wasn't sure if he even wanted to. But one thing he did know; doing so would be easier with the immediate threat of the Shredder removed from their lives.

"It's time to go back to New York."

Raphael, Donatello and Michelangelo exchanged looks with each other, silently agreeing. As much as they had enjoyed the time away from thinking about their problems, they had always known it was going to come down to returning.

April bit her lip. She had been suffering nightmares since the night the Foot had broken into her home and destroyed it. Being at the farmhouse meant escaping reality and to go back to New York was to deal with that. She had never been one to run from her problems – but this one was so huge, so impossible, so hard to deal with, that she wasn't sure she was ready.

Casey smirked. About time! He had been going crazy stuck out here at the farmhouse, even knowing that they all had to recover. He was looking forward to getting revenge on the pyjama guys that had broke into April's place – the Foot – and to get back to taking the Dragons down. It was after all, his mission in life.

Splinter furrowed his brow. He had not been able to speak to Leonardo alone since their discussion in the barn and did not know how the turtle was dealing with his words. The training sessions of late did not suggest a change but then, although change was the only constant in life, it did not always come overnight. He had his doubts that this was the best time to return home and face their enemy.

But it was not his role to tell them. He knew that his training them had given them more trust in him and allowed him closer to them – but ultimately, they did not hold him in the same regard as they did each other. They did not see him as their father.

"We're with ya bro," said Raphael, breaking the silence.

"All the way," added Donatello.

"One hundred per cent," finished Michelangelo.

Leonardo nodded, still solemn. "Maybe you should think about getting stuff together. There's something I have to take care of before we leave."

"Like what?" asked Mikey.

Leonardo had already turned to leave, but he paused to call back over his shoulder.

"I need some weapons."