A/N: Wow, I'm doing a LOT of updating aren't I? XD For this chapter, I decided to do something a little different, but I won't spoil it; I'll just let you read it XD

I OWN NOTHING! STILL NOT...oh forget it, you guys get the joke.

Enjoy!

*crawls into a corner and sobs about how I'll never be as stupid rich as Eric Sach's even though he was probably the most unneeded character in the whole tmnt franchise :(*

Chapter 6

From where he sat in the center of his cell, his legs folded beneath him and his back turned from the electrified bars that contained him within the small space, the old rat could hear nothing but the continuous whirring of the Kraang's robotic bodies as they marched down the hallways, their weapons in hand and their soulless eyes trained only on whatever lay ahead of them. They paid no heed to the mutant rodent they had taken captive.

At least, for the time being, that is. There was no telling what the creatures had planned for him when the time was right.

However, Splinter chose not to dwell too much on that. Instead, he chose to close his eyes, lay his hands on his lap, and meditate. Aside from the fact that it was all he could really do since there was no way he could escape the cell by himself at the moment (though not for lack of trying), it was also a means to appease his spirit, to ease the fears that desperately attempted to burst through the seams of his composure.

A day had already passed since the accident that had brought him and his sons to this other world. A day since they had become separated, with no means of contacting one another. A day since he had been captured by the Kraang and tossed into this wretched cell…but not a second passed when Splinter didn't think about his children, wondering where they were, if they were safe, or even if they had found a way to return to their home world.

If they did, then that was fine by him. He cared not what happened to him. The Kraang could torture him, or kill him, but as long as his children were alive and safe from their clutches, that was all that mattered to him.

He was more than willing to make the sacrifice the four boys that had made his life worth living…

The faint sounds of laser fire echoing from deep inside the facility interrupted his thoughts. His brows furrowing, his eyes still closed, he tilted his head slightly to the side; he could also hear the panicked robotic voices of the Kraang, shouting out orders in their jumbled English only to be cut off merely seconds later, and the sounds of metal limbs being sliced off before clattering to the ground.

Those were the sounds of battle. And the only ones Splinter knew could possibly stand up to the forces of the Kraang were…

It couldn't be…

The robotic whirring suddenly became louder, and Splinter finally opened his eyes and turned around to find two Kraang droids standing outside his cell, their glowing eyes glaring at him through the electric bars. Not intimidated in the slightest, Splinter narrowed his eyes and glared right back at them, fighting the animalistic urge to snarl and hiss at them.

"The one known as Splinter will do that which is known as come with Kraang," one of them said, the other moving towards the control panel beside the cell to open it. "The time which is known as the time to set that which is known as the trap that is the trap for the ones called 'the turtles' is the time that is now."

Splinter blinked hard, and was unable to restrain the soft gasp that escaped his lips as his eyes widened. So it was true. His sons were here, battling against the army of Kraang, to save him and retrieve the portal that would take them all home.

And now the Kraang were ready to carry out their plan to capture them as well, using him.

Growling, Splinter narrowed his eyes once more as the bars fell away, allowing the Kraang to enter the cell as they loomed over him. He would rather they killed him now than let them lay a hand on any of his children again –

"Get away from him!"

In the mere blink of an eye, the pair of Kraang had been impaled through their chests by a long metal staff, their metallic bodies falling to the ground before the alien creatures scampered away, screeching in fright all the while. Despite himself, Splinter released a sigh of relief, smiling as he stood up and turned to finally face his –

He froze, his eyes going wide as he stared at the turtle standing before him.

The creature – the boy – was the same height, if not an inch taller, than Splinter. His plastron was left almost bare, apart from the straps of the suspenders attached to his long pants. There were even boots on his feet, leaving Splinter questioning how they could even fit a turtle his size. And attached to his left arm, his leg, the belt around his waist and the back of his shell, there were multiple gadgets that the old rat couldn't properly decipher, as well as goggles on his head, and large glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

Splinter blinked hard. He looked nothing like his child, or any of his children in fact. And yet the purple mask he wore behind those giant pair of glasses was unmistakable…

Of course. This was another dimension, a world very, if not entirely, different from his own. So that meant this turtle was this world's version of…

"…Donatello?"

After a breathless moment, 'Donatello' nodded at him with a smile, twirling his staff in his hand before sheathing it behind his shell among the other gadgets attached to him. "Yep, that's me," he said with a shy little shrug as he cleared his throat. "I take it you're Master Splinter, right? Unless you're not, I mean…well, the analytical possibilities of finding another mutant rat hybrid in this facility are minimal, but at this rate I wouldn't even be surprised seeing that –"

Holding up a hand to silence the turtle before he could continue his prattling, Splinter found himself smiling at the boy. He looked nothing like his Donatello…and yet, everything, from the purple mask to the way he smiled (despite the lack of the gap between his teeth) to the way he carried himself with an air of confidence yet slight inelegance, was exactly the same. Even the outrageous amount of gadgets seemed fitting.

And he had to admit, the glasses were actually a nice touch.

"Do not fear, Donatello. I am Splinter," he said, dropping his hand back to his side.

"Oh thank goodness!" Donatello sighed, dramatically throwing his head back in a manner that made Splinter chuckle. "You have no idea how long it took for us to find you, I mean this place is like freaking Maze Runner except we're being chased by aliens instead of an angry gorilla or something." Then, after letting out another breath and shaking his head to banish whatever thoughts had manifested, Donatello turned back to Splinter. "Anyway, we've gotta get you outta here, like, right now," he said. "I don't mean to rush you, but we really don't have much time left."

Nodding, his expression hardening with resolve, Splinter followed Donatello as he beckoned him out of the cell and into the open hallways, both of them looking left and right in case there were any Kraang approaching. Once they were sure the coast was clear, Donatello turned to the right and hurried down the hall, with the ninja master in tow.

"The other six of us are on the bottom floor distracting the Kraang," the purple clad turtle explained in a low voice as they rushed down the darkened passage. "They sent me and my Michelangelo up here to look for you and we had to split up. We agreed to rendezvous at the stairs in ten minutes if we came up with nothing, but I haven't heard from him on my communicator yet and –"

"Wait…you said that there were six of you. Are my sons here as well?!" Splinter interjected with wide eyes, his heart sinking into his stomach with dread. This warehouse was crawling with Kraang droids, more than Splinter had ever seen in one place at one time since the second invasion. If his sons were here, there was no guarantee they would be able to get out again with so many aliens flooding in to attack…

Donatello stared at Splinter warily, swallowing thickly, and looking very much like he'd done something wrong as they approached a corner. "…um…yes, that's right, they're here too. But we had to! Me and my brothers couldn't possibly handle the Kraang on our own, and plus –"

As they rounded the corner, they skidded to a stop, coming face to face with several Kraang droids, all of which held their guns and aimed them directly at the pair.

"Eeep!" Donatello squeaked in terror.

Instinctively, Splinter stepped in front of the turtle, his eyes narrowed darkly as a snarl hissed through his fangs. It didn't matter if he wasn't exactly his child; he would protect him with his life, as he would readily do for all of his children, regardless of what world or time period they were from.

"Stop the ones known as Splinter and Donatello. You have been once again captured by Kraang and will be that which is known as destroyed," the droid at the front of the pack declared. "Resistance is futile. The time that is now will be the time of that which is known as –"

"Ugh, will you guys just SHUT UP?!"

A flash of green and orange flew across Splinter's vision, and within moments, the large turtle had knocked down every single droid in his path, not one of them escaping the wrath of his whirling nunchaku – or his terrible puns.

Once the dust had cleared, Splinter's eyes widened for the third time that day at the sight of the turtle standing before him, smiling down smugly at the fallen droids surrounding him in the hallway. Just like the Donatello standing beside him, this turtle was large, though he was a few inches shorter than his older purple clad brother, and was much stockier. He too wore pants and boots, as well as an old hoodie tied around his waist, and had a bead necklace and a pair of sunglasses dangling from around his neck. On the back of his shell, with straps holding it in place, there was a machine that Splinter assumed was some kind of skateboard, and heaven forbid it was rocket-powered. And above all, the boy wore an orange bandana that was unmistakable…

Splinter blinked. Hard. This boy couldn't be Michelangelo, could he? He was built like Raphael.

"Whew! Great timing, Mikey," Donatello sighed with relief, carefully weaving his way through the robot bodies strewn about the floor as he approached his younger brother. "I never thought I'd be so glad to see your ugly mug, little brother."

Grinning from ear to ear, the orange clad turtle clapped a hand on Donatello's shoulder. "No worries, brah. That's how I roll," he said. "Besides, I know how much you hate guns, 'specially the laser ones."

Donatello sent him a flat look in response. "You have to rub it in, don't you?" he deadpanned. Mikey giggled at that, shrugging innocently.

At the exchange, Splinter only smiled and shook his head. That was Michelangelo alright, from his odd speech pattern to the playful banter with his older brothers. Chuckling, he mused how on earth he could have ever doubted him simply because he was larger and far more muscular than his own freckled child.

Suddenly, Michelangelo whipped his head around to stare at Splinter, as if he'd only just noticed his presence. Marching over, nudging Donatello out of the way with his elbow and ignoring his squeak of indignant protest, the orange clad reptile looked the giant rat up and down with wide, curious blue eyes.

"So…you're Mini-Mikey's Master Splinter?" he asked in awe.

Still smiling at the boy's antics, Splinter nodded. "Yes. And you must be this world's version of Michelangelo."

Michelangelo blinked. "Dude. You're really tall."

Splinter chuckled again. "I am."

"And you've got brown fur. And you don't have black eyes. And you look kinda young for an old –"

"Mikey," Donatello interjected impatiently before his brother's observations could go any further. "In case you forgot, there's still a battle going on downstairs, and unless you want us to get captured again, we'd better haul shell!"

Rounding on his older brother, Michelangelo offered him a serious nod of his head, before turning back to Splinter. "You ready to book it, Master Splinter?"

Though the situation was dire, and there was no more time to waste if he were ever to see his children again, Splinter still couldn't fight the small, tolerant smile as he nodded once. "Yes, Michelangelo," he said, already hurrying past him as the three of them took off in a sprint down the hallway leading to the staircase. "Let us, as you say, 'book it'."

The startled laughter that burst from both boys brought warmth to Splinter's heart for the first time in days.

A/N: I really wanted to explore how I think 2012 Splinter would react to 2014 turtles XD so I hope I did alright! See you guys in the next chapter, which may or may or may not be the last!