Disclaimer: Turtles, me no own. Clear enough? Good. Say what you will about cavemen, they know how to get their point across. :D

So here's the second chapter! There's a bit more happening, mainly because this is going to be a kind of busy/full story. Lots of going and such.

…

That sure cleared things up, huh:b

And another random note, I'm changing my mind again; this will be at the new Lair, the water-reservoir/pump-station/whatever-it-is one. I don't want to confuse people, and since no one's really positive about what the new Lair looks like, no one will verbally beat me for where I say things are. Hopefully. XD

And for Chapter 1, I didn't really change anything; all I did was give the chapter a title. And…I think that's everything. If I didn't cover it here, it'll be in the A/N at the bottom. And if it's not there either, it's either not important, or I forgot. Now, on to the story!

Oh, and a note that pretty much everyone knows, but that I'll put in here anyways:

Regular text is the story, talking, etc.

Italic text is thoughts.

Okey dokey? Okey dokey. Go, read, enjoy:D

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

Leo's eyes were shut tightly as he worked his way through yet another kata.

I can't believe I did that.

Strike. Parry. Counterattack.

I could have hurt them. I could have killed them. My brothers!

Block. Back stance. Double strike.

All because of that stupid nightmare—

His subconscious suddenly broke in. 'Not "nightmare", "premonition".'

Leo cursed and sheathed his blades, sitting down on his bed heavily. He'd been shut in his room ever since his brothers had left, working out his frustration and dismay through katas and exercises. But as much as he'd been practicing to calm and collect himself, he'd also been practicing to avoid the thought that the small voice of his subconscious had just presented so bluntly.

Because in the pit of his stomach, he knew that the voice was right.

Shudders ran through his body as images from the dream flashed through his mind, the memories creeping back like a relapse. He clenched his fists, squeezing so hard that the nails threatened to break the skin, but the nightmare returned for an encore. The sickening clarity grabbed his mind for the second time, and once again, everything felt so real…so exact…

So terrifying.

No. NO. Once was enough. I don't need…I don't WANT to SEE that again!

His eyes squeezed shut as he tried to hold the dream back. He cast about with his mind frantically, trying to focus on his family, his brothers. But that just reminded him of the events of the morning, and their questions.

"What's wrong, Leo? Was it a nightmare?"

No, he thought helplessly as the vision swallowed him again. It was real. And that's what's wrong…

And then he was lost, falling into the same sudden darkness that had grabbed him the night before.

-It was nighttime, a cold breeze blowing through the tails of his bandana. Flashes of white light highlighted him and his brothers as they sped across the rooftops, dashing in and out of the beams of moonlight that escaped from the cloudy sky-

-a sense of urgency, of worry. Knowing they had to get to April's place, and fast. Karai was going to-

-a moving tide of black, descending upon them, surrounding them, dozens upon dozens of ninjas appearing like shadows personified-

-words of anger, of hate-

-his brothers, suddenly falling silently to the rooftop, so still, not moving-

-himself falling, unable to move, unable to fight back as Karai came closer and closer-

Then the dream sped up, just like the first time, the images coming so fast that his head ached as he struggled to process it all.

-Alone, all alone-

-fighting Karai, his brothers lost-

-swords flashing in the moonlight-

-blood on the rooftops-

-on his hands-

-on his swords-

-on himself-

-alone-

-more fighting-

-more anger-

-more fear-

-Karai-

-the Shredder-

-swords-

-pain-

-blood-

-DEATH-

And just like the first time, he was awake again, thrown back into himself as the vision closed on an overwhelming, inescapable knowledge of death; one that drove a deep, aching sense of desperate loss deep into his heart.

Leo swore shakily, his hands trembling as he fought to shove the memories back again. It had all felt so real; the entire dream was permeated with a dark sense of warning, but part of him still fought against the truth.

It can't be real…it HAS to be just a nightmare, he thought desperately. After what happened with Master Splinter's dream…we can't go through something like that again. I can't—

"Leo?"

The blue-banded turtle looked up quickly to see his youngest brother peering around the door. He smiled slightly. "Hey. What's up?"

"Nothin' much, just thought I'd see how you're doing."

Leo sighed quietly. "You can come in. I'm not going to attack you, Mikey," he said softly, trying to tamp down the guilt swirling in his stomach. If you could control yourself, your brother wouldn't be scared of you, his mind scolded.

Mikey grinned and walked into the room, plopping down in Leo's chair. "I know that, bro; you're a lot speedier when you're in 'attack mode'," he joked.

The leader smiled, glad for the lightening of the mood. "So, what did you need, Mike?"

The youngest turtle shook his head. "It's not what I need, bro; it's what you need. It's almost one o'clock; you missed breakfast, and lunch is quickly passing you by." Pulling his hands from behind his back, he lobbed something at Leo's face. "Think fast!"

Leo threw a hand up instantly to catch the apple. However, as soon as his fingers closed around it, he hissed and dropped the fruit on his bed.

Mikey's expression grew concerned. "Hey, Leo, are you okay?" he asked, standing and walking over to sit beside his brother.

The blue-banded turtle didn't reply, but slowly opened his fisted hands. Leo's palms were torn and red, blood welling up from where his nails had broken the skin.

"Oooo," Mikey winced, hissing in sympathy. Carefully taking hold of one of Leo's hands, he inspected the wounds. "Dang, bro, how'd ya pull this off?"

Leo tugged his hand back. "It's nothing, Mikey."

"Really? You bleed from 'nothing' too?" Mikey asked. He wiped his forehead in fake relief. "Awesome! I thought I was the only one that happened to!" He leveled a knowing grin at his oldest brother.

"Very funny, Michelangelo."

The younger turtle sighed. "C'mon, Leo, what's wrong? Ya can't say nothing's bothering you, not with your hands looking like that." He looked down, staring at his own hands. "Is it that hard to just talk to us, bro?" he asked softly. "To talk to me?"

"Mikey, no." Leo tried to put a hand on Mikey's shoulder, but remembered in the nick of time and pulled back. He sighed as well. "It's not you guys, it's just…it's complicated."

"Then just give me the uncomplicated version," the orange-banded turtle suggested. "We'll start with the basics; something did happen, right?"

Leo sighed. "Yes."

"Nightmare?"

"…No."

"Suddenly-developed fear of the dark?"

One eye ridge went up. "Um, no."

"Monster under your bed?"

Leo suppressed a grin, amused despite himself. "No."

"Indigestion?"

"No," Leo replied, biting back a chuckle.

"That makes one of us. Burritos for a late-night snack are murder…" Mikey grumbled, rubbing his stomach with a disgruntled expression.

"Mikey…"

"Right, back on topic! Um, covert excuse to attack Raph without getting yelled at or punished?"

Leo couldn't hold back a laugh this time. "Tempting, and a good idea for future use, but no."

"Dang." Mikey shook his head. "I'm out of ideas. You sure it wasn't a nightmare? Or whatever you big, bad, older brother turtles call it?"

The words were out of Leo's mouth before he could stop them. "It wasn't a nightmare, Mikey; it was a premonition."

"What? A premon—oh," Mikey said softly. "You mean…like Sensei had? When we…when we went after the Shredder?"

Leo nodded, staring at his feet. "Yes…" he whispered.

Mikey took another look at his brother's hands. "Was it really that bad?" he asked, gesturing at Leo's bloody palms.

He looked at his hands as well, easily recalling the dream, before he nodded a second time. "Yeah. It was really that bad."

"Oh," Mikey said again. "What…happened?"

The oldest turtle shook his head. "I…I can't say." He raised a hand, stopping Mikey from interrupting. "No, Mikey, I can't. It's not like it was with Master Splinter. I don't trust what I saw, and I'm not willing to risk your lives because of some dream."

"Well, what if we are?" Mikey asked quietly. ""Bro, the last time we listened to a dream, we got rid of the Shredder. For good! He's out in space floating on an asteroid; he's just an out-of-commission alien Popsicle now."

"Mikey, the last time we listened to a dream, we almost didn't survive."

"That doesn't mean that's what'll happen this time," Mikey pointed out. "Look, Leo, I know how ya feel. After the fight with the Shredder…things were bad. Real bad. We all know that. We got our shells kicked, and you went all "Mr. Personality" on us, and we got kicked out of the Lair and had to find a new home." He held Leo's eyes with his own, his whole demeanor uncharacteristically serious. "But we got rid of the Shredder. We beat him, once and for all, and helped save the whole Utrom home world. Don't you think that was worth it?"

Leo fell very still. "Was it worth it?" he echoed softly. The oldest turtle was quiet for several minutes. "…Yes, it was worth it. I wish I could say that right away, without even thinking about it. I know I should be able to, especially considering all the lives that were saved from the Shredder, but with what that victory almost cost…I just can't."

"That's alright, bro," Mikey assured him. "It was tough, especially for you, so it makes sense for that to be a touchy topic for ya."

"For me?" Leo's brow furrowed. "It isn't for you too?"

"No, it is, it's just…" Mikey trailed off and shrugged. "Well, it's over now, isn't it? And we won. So it all came out alright in the end, didn't it? It's like with Superman; he wouldn't be able to save so many people if he didn't risk getting toasted with Kryptonite once in a while."

The blue-banded turtle stared at his youngest brother blankly. "…Right. Yeah, that, um, makes sense…" Sort of…in a Mikey kind of way, Leo thought. He looked at the hopeful expression on Mikey's face and sighed. "I get what you're trying to say, Mikey, but it doesn't change anything in this case."

Mikey sighed, frustrated. "Why not, bro?"

"Look, I don't even know for sure if this dream is one I can trust—"

"But you're pretty sure it's real," Mikey interrupted. "If you weren't, it wouldn't be a big deal to just tell me about it, now would it?"

Leo palmed his face in exasperation. Shell, someone save me from little brothers and their annoyingly accurate logic, he groaned to himself. "Alright, let's suspend reality for a minute here and pretend that this dream," he glared at Mikey as he emphasized the word, "was actually real."

"Hypothetically, of course," Mikey said. His voice was serious, but his eyes twinkled mischievously, and he worked hard to suppress a victorious grin.

"Of course," Leo gritted out. His anger began sparking, his normal control frayed by the strain of his strange dream and his lack of sleep. "Look, even if it was real, there isn't even anything in it about us beating the Foot, alright, Michelangelo? Which means that there's nothing to make it worth—" Leo stopped abruptly, his eyes wide as he realized what he'd just revealed.

Shock replaced the mischief in Mikey's expression. "Your dream was…about the Foot?"

Leo swallowed hard and stared at the floor, his mouth clamed shut. He berated himself silently. How the shell could I do that? I can't believe I just said that! I can't keep them all safe if they know about this…they'll ask too many questions… and what if they try something?

Mikey tried to recapture his brother's focus. "Leo, are you—"

"Thanks for the apple, Mikey," Leo interrupted, cutting his brother off. "I really appreciate it."

The youngest turtle looked at his brother, noting the tension in Leo's body, and sighed internally. Great, now he's totally shutting me out…how the shell does Donnie do this all the time and stay sane? he wondered, grumbling to himself. Realizing that he wasn't going to get anything more out of his older brother, he shook his head and stood. "Look, Leo, this is what I figure: you had the dream, so it's up to you if you tell us or not. But we're a family. What we do concerns all of us. So if you're not telling us because you're scared that we might decide to do the same thing that we did last time…well, not to sound harsh or anything, bro, but that's not really up to you. If it's about the Foot, and us, we deserve to know; and if there's something we can do about them, all five of us have to decide whether we think it's worth it. That's a decision we all have to make." He gently punched Leo's shoulder. "You know where to find me, bro, or any of us. We'll be here if ya need us," he said, walking towards the door. "In the meantime, I'll send Donnie-boy up here to look at your hands."

Leo stared at the floor, thinking over what his brother had said. "Not up to me…" he murmured quietly, sighing. "Maybe not, Mikey…but it is still my concern. I still have to try and prevent this from happening. You're all still my responsibility." He shook his head. "I know it wasn't my fault; I know I did all that I could, but…"

A long, shuddering breath filled the silence of Leo's room.

"I can't let this dream happen. I can't go through that; I can't let you guys go through that."

"I…I can't fail you again."

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

Raph grumbled and flipped another page of the newspaper he was reading. Three break-ins, a muggin', an' a warehouse set on fire; ain't Manhattan a charmin' place? A few more pages flitted by before he gave up and tossed the paper on the table. After he had been taking his frustrations out of the punching bag for nearly an hour, Don had finally convinced him to come out for lunch. He, Don and Mikey had spent the meal nearly in silence. After a while, Mikey had stood and rummaged through the fridge, coming out with an apple. He'd announced that he was going to see if Leo was hungry, and disappeared into their oldest brother's room.

The hotheaded turtle sighed, fidgeting. Mikey's been in there fer a while…dammit, I wanna know what the shell is up with Leo.

Another sigh echoed his own, emerging from behind the sheaf of papers across the table. Don lowered the science section that he was reading and eyed his brother, a well-used look of exasperated patience on his face. "Alright, Raph, what is it?"

Raph scowled and crossed his arms. "What's what?" he retorted.

Don rolled his eyes. "Raph, you've been over there twitching like a seizure. Ever since what happened with Leo, you've been doing a good impression of Mikey on caffeine."

The hothead snorted and stared at the floor. "I'm actin' like Mikey? Great, thanks Don, that makes me feel so much better."

"Raph…"

"Alright, alright, fine. It's Leo, he's—"

"'Pissing you off'?" Don offered. At Raph's surprised look, the brainy turtle rolled his eyes. "Don't look so shocked, Raphael. I've lived with you for 18 years. You're always pissed off because of Leo. So what is it about him specifically that's pissing you off this time?" he asked, his tone that of talking to a five-year-old.

Raph was slightly bewildered by his brother's words. He ain't normally so…blunt. An' I can count on one hand the number of times that Don has said "pissed off". He set the thought aside and snorted, staring over Don's shoulder as he grumbled. "Like ya need ta ask…"

"Well, obviously I do, since like always, you seem to be too stubborn and immature to just talk about it by yourself without someone holding your hand!" Don snapped.

The red-banded turtle sat back, shock clearly written on his face. "Damn, Don," he finally managed to say, his voice full of bemusement, "if I had a nose, you woulda just bit the frickin' thing off!"

"Finally on the receiving end of a bad attitude, hm?" Don's voice was scornful. "Don't worry, it's good for you; it builds character." With that, he threw the paper down on the table and stormed out of the kitchen. Seconds later, the door to Don's lab slammed shut, the resulting noise echoing through the silent Lair.

What…the shell…what that all about? Raph's mind was too shocked by his brother's actions to think of any other question. Footsteps from the stairs interrupted his daze, pulling him back to himself.

"Don, what's rubbing Raph's shell this time?" Mikey's voice floated into the kitchen ahead of him. "We really don't need the whole door-slamming thing right now, bro. Leo's chilled a bit, but his hands are kind of trashed. I told him I'd send you up to…" Mikey stepped into the kitchen and halted, surprised at not seeing the brother he expected, "…bandage them," he finished slowly. He stared at Raph for several moments, clearly puzzled. "You're not Don," he said.

Raph shook his head. "Nope, definitely not. An' right now, neither is he."

"Huh? Don's not Don?" Mikey's face wrinkled in thought as he tried to process the statement. "Okay, not making sense. How is he not Don, and how are you here after slamming your door?"

"'Cause he ain't right now, and I didn't."

Mikey's expression was still blank. "Alright, can I have that one more time? Except this time, slower and, you know, understandable."

The red-banded turtle quickly explained what had happened while Mikey was gone, from Don's comments to his angry exit.

"Dude, I think our brains got scrambled with each other's while we were sleeping," Mikey complained. "Don's acting like you, you're acting like me, I'm acting like Don, and Leo's acting like you."

Raph looked skeptical. "How do ya figure that one?"

"Figure which one?"

"The 'you actin' like Don' one."

"Oh. Well, I was talking to Leo, and he'd messed up his hands and still wasn't feeling like talking, so I told him we'd be around when he did." He placed a hand over his heart. "I like to stay in touch with my sensitive side."

Raph's eye ridges lowered. "Wait a minute…why were Leo's hands messed up?" he asked.

Mikey shifted uncomfortably. "Umm…'cause of earlier."

"His nightmare?" Raph asked.

The orange-banded turtle nodded uneasily.

Raph stared hard at his brother for several moments. "You know somethin', don't'cha?" Despite its phrasing, the question was more of a statement.

"What?" Mikey looked slightly panicked. "Me? Uh, no, I—"

"Mikey…" Raph growled warningly.

The younger turtle held his brother's gaze for a while, then sighed and looked down. "I…I don't think…I don't think I should tell you," he whispered.

"Ex-cuse me? An' why the shell not?" Raph demanded.

"Well, Leo said—and he was, you see..." Mikey sighed. "I just can't tell ya, bro."

"Great," the hothead snarled. "That's just great. Thanks fer yer help, bro." Raph snorted and jerked to his feet.

"Where are you going, Raph?" Mikey asked, concerned.

"I'm gonna go fix Leo's hands," Raph snapped, stalking out of the kitchen and heading for the medical supply cabinet. "Yer bein' just this side of useless, so I'll find out what's goin' on fer myself."

"But Raph, he really doesn't feel like talking—"

"An' I don't feel like bein' short an' green. We don't always get what we want. He's pissin' everyone off, an' I wanna know what's so frickin' important that he thinks he's got the right ta be crabby."

"As opposed to you, who's always crabby, and don't care whether you've got a reason or not," Mikey muttered under his breath.

Raph turned around, raising an eye ridge at his younger brother. "What was that?"

Mikey waved his hands in front of himself quickly. "Oh, nothing, nothing at all."

The hotheaded turtle snorted. "That's what I thought." He grabbed a roll of bandages and some antiseptic, and then he was gone.

As soon as he left, Mikey sighed heavily and sat down. He rubbed his eyes with his hands before face-planting on the table, then muttered into the wood.

"First Leo's cranky, then Don's cranky, and now Raph's still cranky. What the shell did I do to deserve three Raphs?"

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

Splinter walked down the tunnel towards the water plant serenely. His time spent at April's had greatly refreshed him, both because of the more pleasant climate and the quiet time away from his four rowdy sons. He shook his head, thinking about the fight they'd had the day before he'd left; Michelangelo had hidden the television remote and refused to reveal its location, thus allowing him to keep the channel on his station of choice. His three older brothers had quickly grown tired of the shows played on there, and Splinter had had to rescue his youngest from being beaten up by his three other children. When he'd asked why they hadn't just walked over to the TV and changed the channel by hand, he'd only received blank stares. The only explanation they could come up with was provided by Raphael: "it's tha principle of tha matter, Sensei".

The old rat sighed. My sons are my life; they always have been, and they will always continue to be. However, there are times when their actions threaten to reduce that life by many, many years.

Splinter stopped suddenly, realizing that he was heading down the wrong tunnel. While he was lost in thought, his feet had automatically begun taking him back to the old Lair. He sighed, but allowed himself to continue down the familiar path to their last home. Upon entering the tunnel just before the entrance, Splinter sniffed the air thoroughly. Detecting no danger, he proceeded to navigate the rocky ruins carefully. Once inside what used to be the entrance, the old master looked around in sadness.

The entire Y'Lyntian lair was still in a shambles. Debris lay everywhere, parts of the walls and ceiling forming large piles that were scattered about on the floor. However, a small, narrow path of clear footing space wove its way through the Lair, skirting the larger obstacles neatly. The turtles had come by several times after moving to their new home, in order to try and tidy things up a bit. They all knew that they couldn't live there anymore; not only did Karai know of its location, but the Y'Lyntian chamber was also far from structurally sound. But they all had wanted to try and clean up the old Lair nonetheless. Splinter had at first denied his sons' requests, cautioning them that there was still a chance of danger lingering about their old home. However, his sons had pressed the matter. Donatello had performed something he called a "sweep scan", searching for any electronic items that could have been left by the Foot, such as bugs, trackers, or video cameras, but reported the whole area as "clean". Though this helped greatly to alleviate Splinter's fears, he was still reluctant to allow the undertaking. But Leonardo had finally convinced him when he'd pointed out that it was still usable as a temporary shelter, and it was a good place to store extra food, supplies, and weapons, in case they would ever find themselves ejected from their home again.

So the ninja master had finally consented, much to his sons' pleasure. They had set to work immediately, and Splinter soon found that he was glad he had acquiesced. Through their work, they had discovered that they hadn't lost as much as they'd originally thought; many supplies and cherished items were found, even weeks after they'd started. Another benefit, one that made Donatello very pleased, was the scavenged Foot technology. Much of the robots that had attacked them had been left behind, and the brainy turtle was able to do wonders with it. Splinter didn't understand everything his son had gushed about, but apparently Donatello was able to use the parts to craft some defensive machines of his own, as well as identify their "power signature". The old rat wasn't sure why that was pertinent, but his son had assured him it was.

"This way, Sensei, I can set up one of my security programs to perform regular sweeps of the area, with the frequency tuned to that of these robots. That way, if they come again, we'll be able to have some warning."

Even beyond those successes, the restoration had helped all of them emotionally. Splinter knew very well that all of his sons had many emotions to deal with in regards to the destruction of their home. However, Leonardo and Raphael had the most to struggle with; Raphael had to come to terms with his anger for being unable to prevent the loss of their home or protect his family better, and Leonardo had to deal with the horror of coming home to find his home destroyed and his family gone. Several times Splinter had seen them together, sitting side by side in one of the less cluttered areas; they would either talk softly for long periods of time, or merely sit together silently. The time alone seemed to help them to heal, and to repair the bond between them, which had been so strained because of Leonardo's angry behavior and long absence.

Splinter walked further through the Lair, memories of their time spent there flowing through his mind. He sighed, pain throbbing at his heart. Twice. Twice he and his sons had been forced out of their home; twice they had had to deal with the pain of losing a place of their own, one place where they, different as they were, could still feel safe. Even though they had lived in their first Lair longest, there were still precious memories here; however, they, like those of their first home, would now also be tainted with sadness and loss.

The old rat shook his head, firmly chastising himself to dispel his melancholy. He recited to himself an old adage that his Master Yoshi had once told to a young man when the lad returned from seeing his house after it had burned down: 'Old memories are like the graves of loved ones; it is fine to visit them, but not to dwell on the shadows that they cast.' Splinter tamped the sadness down firmly, repeating the saying again. He slowly began to find some comfort, both from the helpful words and the memory of his beloved sensei. My sons and I are fine; we…I…should not allow one bad day to ruin years of pleasant ones. Feeling better, he continued his tour, carefully making his way to the top level of the Lair. He walked past his sons' rooms, glancing inside each doorway.

The rooms looked just as bad as the rest of the Lair. Rockets from Karai's robots had also damaged the roof, seriously wrecking the upper level living quarters. His sons had extended their care even to their old rooms, despite the fact that the chambers were essentially lost causes.

Here was Michelangelo's room, badly damaged. And yet, it looks messy enough to be remarkably like its normal state, Splinter chuckled to himself. Half of the room was totally blocked, and broken furniture had been pulled from the wreckage and stacked neatly in two of the corners. Everything else had been cleared out, and several of Splinter's smaller counterparts seemed to have taken up residence in his youngest son's absence. He shook his head. I dare not mention this to his brothers; I know that he would never be able to outlive it.

The next room over was Raphael's, and it had suffered slightly less damage to its structure and contents than Michelangelo's. One wall seemed to have taken the brunt of the attack, dozens of bricks torn away to give a partial view into Don's room next door. Raphael's hammock hadn't survived, but his punching bag had. Splinter smiled ruefully. And it got an excess of use after the attack on our home. Fortunately, the majority of the rest of his things escaped serious damage.

Donatello's room was the same, minimally damaged but for the large hole in the wall. He'd suffered more possession loss than all of his brothers because of the inventions and experiments he had stored in there. A small chuckle escaped the old ninja as he pictured his son's reactions, both to the site of his room and the discovery of the left-over robot parts; Donatello had been considerably upset at his losses, but much of that depression was banished by the wealth of technology he had gotten his hands on as a result of scavenging the Foot robots.

And the last room on his journey was Leonardo's. Oddly enough, the door had been pulled shut, and it caused Splinter considerable trouble to get it open. Due to the location of the chamber, Leonardo's room had been the most damaged of all his sons'. However, of all of his brothers, he had lost the least, mainly because of how little he had. His room was always neat and tidy, the few possessions he did have carefully stowed away. Part of Splinter was still glad that Leonardo had not been there when Karai attacked their home; given the history and emotional ties his eldest son had with the kunoichi, the rat didn't want to think about how badly it would affect the young turtle had he been there for that betrayal and defeat.

Splinter prepared to leave the room, his gut telling him the afternoon was waning and that he would do well to be getting home before dinner. Otherwise, my sons' dietary habits will most likely continue to deteriorate. Just as he neared the door, though, a small flash of color and a twitch of fabric caught his eye, and he turned quickly. The only thing there, however, was one of Leonardo's bandanas, lying on the floor in the corner. It was partly buried under some rubble, and Splinter surmised that his movement had created a slight breeze that must have ruffled the cloth. Padding softly over to the bandana, he carefully extracted it from the collapsed stone. It was still in decent shape, so Splinter tucked the item into his robe and once again made to leave. However, he was stopped a second time. Right on the threshold of Leonardo's room, he felt a violent surge of emotions come over him; anger, despair, helplessness, fear, hatred, denial, and then finally, a strange peace.

The wave of feelings shocked Splinter into immobility. Even stranger, as soon as he had processed all the different sensations, they were gone as quickly as they came. Splinter stood very still, trying to figure out what had just happened, but he came up with nothing. It was as though I had stepped inside the heart of another…but whom? The ninja master sniffed the air again, searching carefully for even the slightest hint of another person, but he came up with only lingering hints of Leonardo's scent and the awareness of his own. He shook his head and sighed; what had happened? No one outside of his family had been in the Lair since the attack, so who could the emotions belong to? Splinter made another round of the room, and approached the door the same way he did the first time, but whatever had occurred was over now. Another sigh escaped him and he left the room, making his way back down to the first floor and carefully out of the damaged Lair.

Splinter's trip home passed quickly, as his mind was occupied with what had happened in Leonardo's room. He was still puzzling over it when he opened the door to the Lair. The emotions were not mine, he thought, still distracted, but they still felt familiar somehow. Especially the anger, it felt like…

That thought was quickly cut off as soon as he stepped into the Lair. Anger and annoyance crowded into his senses, effectively erasing his past train of thought. Splinter grasped after the lingering notion, but it slipped from his grasp. He made a mental note to think more about it later, and prepared himself to deal with the newest problem at hand.

The newest set of emotions was easy to identify; it came from all four of his sons, in varying degrees of intensity. Oddly enough, he couldn't see any of his sons anywhere. This was especially strange when considering his sons' usual habits. Normally when there was a fight, Michelangelo at least would be seen right away, either to deny being at fault for the problem at hand and beg for protection from his sensei, or to sit on the couch and stay out of the fight completely. But he was nowhere to be seen. And no swearing came from the dojo, either, which was the normal place for Raphael to retire after a fight, if he didn't go topside. Splinter sniffed the air and detected at least one of his sons in the kitchen, and decided to start there. Because of the riotous, conflicting emotions flying around the Lair he couldn't tell which son it was, but knew he would at least get some answers, regardless.

"My son…?" he asked carefully as he stepped into the kitchen.

A green head popped up off of the table at his voice. "Oh, hey, Sensei," Michelangelo said cheerily, lines of exasperation falling from his face. "How ya doing? How was your stay at April's? Are you feeling better?"

Splinter chuckled. Michelangelo's curiosity at least remains intact, he mused to himself. It is good to know some things never change. He walked over and took a seat at the table beside his youngest son, groaning slightly; the long walk and climb through the sewers was making itself known in his joints. Rubbing his knees to relieve some of the discomfort, he smiled at the young turtle. "I was never feeling ill in the first place," he replied, "but yes, I do feel refreshed for the small…vacation I spent at Ms. O'Neil's. As for your other questions, my stay was most pleasant; Ms. O'Neil is always a wonderful companion. And I feel fine, though I would like to know what exactly has thrown our home into such an uproar."

Michelangelo winced slightly, recognizing the subtly-phrased request for information. Splinter could tell that his youngest didn't want to be the one to explain, but could also tell that the turtle knew better than to try and get out of it.

"Um, uproar? Whadda ya mean, Sensei? It seems pretty…uh…down-roary in here to me," Michelangelo said, grinning weakly.

Splinter didn't say a word, only stared at his son. When a few more seconds passed with no response, the ninja master's eyes narrowed just the slightest fraction.

And suddenly, his son was a bit more responsive.

"Okay, fine, maybe something is uproar-ing in here," the rambunctious turtle sighed. He scowled, muttering under his breath. "More like it's Leo who's up and roaring…"

"What was that, Michelangelo?"

"Nothing, Sensei!"

The old rat sighed. "Tell me what has happened, and who is mad at whom."

"Well, something kinda messed with Leo's head, that's the "what happened" part…" Michelangelo sagged, looking tired at the mere thought of explaining. "Do I have to go any further into it than that?"

One raised eyebrow answered his question.

"I mean, I'd love to go into that!" He coughed slightly, and took a deep breath. "Alright, so here's how it goes: Leo's kind of in a funky mood, and Raph wanted to know why, but Leo wouldn't say, so I dragged Raph out of Leo's room, but Leo still wouldn't say, and then Don left, and then we talked, and then Raph came back, and then I left to go talk to Leo, and then we kinda talked, and then I came back—" the young turtle stopped for another deep breath and kept going, "and by then Don had left, and then Raph and I talked, and he got mad, so then he left to go talk to Leo, who probably still doesn't want to talk, and then I stayed here, and I think I kinda might have talked to the table…and then you got back."

Splinter stared at his son. I do believe he was speaking English, but I don't think I understood more than half of anything he said, he thought to himself in disbelief. I also don't think I have ever heard a longer sentence spoken. "…Thank you, my son, for…explaining," Splinter managed to say when he found his voice. "So then, Leonardo is…upset at…" He broke off, his lips moving slightly as he tried again to process the story. "No, you said it was Donatello who…"

Michelangelo took pity on his mentor. "Raph's mad at Leo and me, Don's mad at Raph and possibly Leo, and Leo's…well, I don't think he's mad at anyone other than himself, though he might be a little peeved with Raph."

The rat master's face was a study in relief. "Thank you, Michelangelo. That makes it much easier to understand. But you did not mention yourself, I noticed; are you angry with any of your brothers?"

The question seemed to take the youngest turtle by surprise. "Me? Am I mad?" He tilted his head to the side, seeming to think hard about it. "Huh. Well, let's see…Leo? Nuh-uh. Don? No, he's hard to be mad at. Raph? Hmm…nah, he's just being Raph. Nope, I'm cool, Sensei," the orange-banded turtle replied.

"I am glad to hear it, my son."

"Alrighty. If that's it, I'm headin' upstairs, Sensei."

Splinter pulled back slightly, confused. "What? Why, my son?"

Michelangelo seemed surprised by the question. "Um, 'cause everyone 'cept you and me is ticked off, and I don't want my shell handed to me," he said slowly, as though explaining the situation to someone either very young or very slow.

"But this situation is not of your making, Michelangelo."

The orange-banded turtle grinned. "Bingo, Sensei. For once, it's not my fault, so if I stay totally out of it for the rest of it, I'll get zero blame and beatings. 'Sides, Raph's the only one mad at me right now, and it'd be stupid to tick anyone else off. And I figured it'd be better if you handled this one from now on, since, you know, you're good with this kind of thing and no one's likely to smack you." He sketched a quick bow before jumping up the stairs. "Glad you're back, Master Splinter!"

Michelangelo was up the stairs and safely behind his door before his sensei could get another word out. Splinter groaned quietly. I have just returned home, and already there is a new fight to deal with.

I need a vacation.

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

A/N: Two down—and…a…few more to go. XD Yeah, I've got no idea how long this story's gonna be page-number wise. It's gonna be weird, at least to me, because it's only one incident/event that's happening, like with every story, but there's so much going on; so part of me is like "wow, this'll be over soon", but the other part laughs and goes "riiiight…". Anyways, I hope this chapter was enjoyable. And hey, you got to find out what Leo's dream was, and it's only 2 chapters into the story! How's that for quick delivery:D And to any of you who thought it was a little short to cover something that's bothering Leo so much, fear not! For there will be more dreamage to come! XD I love making up my own words…Besides, it's an ANGST fic…one little part of a chapter is way too little trauma. XD

Oh, and a note to Pi90katana (if you read this): I know the whole premonition sequence thing looks a lot like what you did in "Dead of Night", but no plagiarism was intended! It was after I wrote it that I realized I used the same technique, but it was the only way I could think of to do that part of the story. So if you are offended in any way, I apologize! . (And to any people, you can't get angry at me, because this isn't a review response! This is merely preventative apologetic action:D lol)

As for the characters…whatchoo think? I know I took a pretty different approach on Mikey in this chapter; he's got a lot more serious scenes, and even a trace of maturity peeking through now and then. :D But I personally think it's alright; Mikey does have his serious moments, they're just few and far between sometimes. But if you'll recall the episode "Samurai Tourist", Mikey was really compassionate and understanding of Leo, telling Raph to "lay off the poor guy…it can't be fun always being the responsible one". I was kind of pulling that in here. Mikey's got a lot of empathy, especially for his brothers, so I don't think this was that far-stretched. And yes, we all know that Don was OOC…but you'll see why in the next chapter. :3

And for the style…yeah, it's still pretty much my same style, but I'm doing something a little different. I don't know if you guys noticed, but I'm doing a little bit of overlapping on the event timeline thing. Like, how I started off with the whole Leo/Mikey conversation, and then explained how he got up there later? Remember…? XD Anyways, please let me know what you guys think of that, like if you could follow it easily, because it will probably show up more later on in this story; it's going to be very separated viewpoints at times, but I will do my absolute best to keep the timeline easy to understand. :)

Anyways, I think that's it. A little bit more happened, but I know it wasn't a lot. I'm pretty sure you'll forgive me, though, 'cause this is just the beginning of the story; I need to set the scene first. I can't really just start the story off like "OMG, fight sequence, die!" Lol. Well, I could…but it would totally kill the story. No angst story is complete without lots of morose dialogue, right:D I apologize for the weird author notes, but I've been crazy tired all day. So I'll go now so I can actually get some sleep. Yay sleep! And hopefully the next chapter will be up sooner than 2 weeks…but I can't make any promises. I'll do my best, though. Thanks to everyone who read this, and who reviewed the first chapter, and I'd loved it if you repeated those actions:D Same stuff as always; thanks for reading, please point out any mistakes, etc. Take care everyone, and R&R, please!