IV. Expendable

The castle's temple was familiar and very much like the old lair—a dark room of cold stone, accented with wood and Japanese furnishings, lit gently by candles— yet the temple felt nothing like home. There was no warmth here. No comfort. No laughter. After what Michelangelo had just said, there was nothing but empty, stinging coldness.

"Hey, guys … I'm not going back."

Donatello felt sick.

As he watched April and Mike argue, Don tried to fight down his rising sense of uneasiness. Part of his discomfort stemmed from the idea of going back without one of his brothers. But another part … and, if he was honest with himself, perhaps even the greater part … came from the fact that it wasn't just any brother. No, it was Michelangelo. Michelangelo, his comedy partner. Michelangelo, his comrade during the Great Raph and Leo Wars. Michelangelo, his best friend.

Don sensed Raphael step up from behind, and he turned eagerly towards his red-masked brother. Allowing himself a small grin, Don reached out to lay a hand on Raph's shoulder. The contact helped, a little. It was grounding. Reassuring. Don's grin widened. Raphael was strong and tenacious and fiercely loyal. Raphael would put a stop to this whole "not going back" business.

Then Raph went and ruined it all. Breaking away and approaching Leonardo, he began in a slow, thoughtful voice, "I been thinkin' the same thing, Leo. People appreciate us here. We don't have to live like moles."

Don's discomfort kicked up a notch.

In desperation he turned to his eldest brother. His calm, clear-thinking, responsible brother. "Hey, no way. We're all going back." When Leo said nothing, Don swallowed nervously and tried again. "Tell 'em, Leo."

"Actually …"

Eyes moving warily from brother to brother, Donatello frowned. Uncool. This was very uncool. Michelangelo was glaring defiantly at April, while Raphael stood stiff and stony-faced. Leo, for his part, looked utterly, thoroughly conflicted.

April's expression betrayed no confusion whatsoever, however. Her entire presence smoldered with barely-contained frustration. "Hey, guys, not to sound selfish or anything—but what the heck, why not?" she snapped out. "I do not want to stay here!"

Don shook his head. He was no dummy. Mikey was set on staying, and his other two brothers were almost convinced. He didn't think April's protests would be enough to change their minds. Somebody had to turn the tide, and it seemed that somebody was going to have to be him.

So in a loud, clear voice, Don complained, "Do you think I could possibly live without a single microchip?"

He was lying. Lying through his teeth.

Do you think we could possibly live without Sensei? Or without April. Or heck, even Casey or Keno. But that still wasn't quite it, either. Not quite.

Do you think I could possibly live without Sensei? Yes. Yes, that was closer to the truth. Sometimes, however, a lie was a necessary evil. At least, that's what he told himself.

But his ploy didn't work. Glancing quickly around the room, Don saw that indecision remained, plain as day, in his brothers' faces. His stomach sank like a stone. There was something scary, something wrong, going on here, but he couldn't place his finger on what exactly it was.

Then—as if to prove that no matter how bad a situation was, it could always get worse—the time scepter activated. Great, thought Don, gritting his teeth. Just great. Discussion time was over. They had to move, and they had move quick.

April, meanwhile, was firmly shaking her head while making a last-ditch plea for reasonableness: "You can not split up. You're brothers."

And suddenly Donatello understood what was wrong. He was the only one who wanted to go back to New York, and that meant … his brothers didn't care. They didn't care if he was there. They didn't care if they were separated. They didn't … they didn't—

His breath caught in his throat. Expendable, a fuzzy, panicked part of his brain distantly recognized. I'm expendable.

Expendable. Just like Sensei, apparently, and Casey and April. The word rang in his ears like a gunshot, seeped into his blood like a poison. It was a terrible word. It was a terrible truth. Closing his eyes, Don concentrated on breathing slowly through his nostrils. Gradually, grudgingly, his heart rate returned to something resembling normal.

He opened his eyes in time to see Mitsu and Yoshi enter. Looking over at Michelangelo, Don drew in a sharp breath at the expression on his brother's face. Mikey's eyes had lit up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. His eyes lit up because of … because of that woman. As Mike cheerfully nattered on about staying, Don did his best to tune out the conversation. There wasn't anything he wanted to hear. He also tried to the sudden jealousy that bubbled up from within and threatened to eat him alive.

But soon Don was distracted from his jealousy by the time scepter. It was accelerating. The time switch would happen any moment now. Uh-oh. Loudly and a bit nervously, Don called out, "It's picking up speed." But, unsurprisingly, his words went unheeded. Mike was still caught up in Mitsu, and Raph was hugging Yoshi as though he'd never let go. Don sighed and traded a helpless look with April.

"I've been thinking." Leo's voice. That got everyone's attention. "We have to go back."

Don turned to his brother, curious. Curious and, almost despite himself, tentatively hopeful.

"It's our destiny," Leonardo continued in that calm, logical tone that did not brook disagreement. "If we stay here, we interfere with their lives. And that would be selfish."

It did not escape Donatello's notice that his brother said not a word about missing Don. But he was nothing if not a pragmatist, and he'd take what he could get. If the "selfish" angle worked, Don would not look a gift horse in the mouth.

And sure enough, Mike and Raph were nodding along, albeit reluctantly. Then, with a heavy sigh, Raphael went and knelt down in front of Yoshi, speaking to the boy softly. Don turned his back to them to allow for some privacy.

As Raph said his good-byes, Leonardo turned away too, and silently Don held out the time scepter towards his brother. Leo wrapped his large fingers around it, grasping tightly. Don nodded to April next. She gave a brief nod in reply then crossed the room to take hold of the scepter as well.

Three down. Two to go. Don watched the scepter's whirling, crackling light with worried eyes.

A second later Raph materialized at his side and, to Don's great surprise and relief, grabbed on to the scepter without further protest. Four down, one to go. Glancing over his shoulder, Donatello saw that Mikey was still talking to that woman.

"Come on, Mikey!"

All around them the scepter's wind and energy raged, screaming to be released. It took nearly all of Don's strength to keep his hands firmly around the scepter.

"I'm coming!"

As Mikey finally broke away from Mitsu, finally began running towards them, Donatello held his breath. It was going to be close. Too close. April, still holding on to the time scepter, stepped towards Mike and stretched out her hand. The crackling energy reached fever pitch, blinding, deafening, so much so that Don could feel his teeth rattling in his skull. At the last possible moment, Mikey lunged.

Everything went stark white, and Don involuntarily closed his eyes. Suddenly he felt tingling, beginning in his chest, quickly spreading through his arms and legs, out to the tips of his fingers and toes. Then, almost as soon as it began, the tingling disappeared. Carefully Don opened his eyes.

"Guys!" The relief that flooded Leo's voice was unmistakable. "We made it back to the den!"

Donatello let his grip on the scepter to loosen, allowed his hand fall down to his side. Hesitantly he glanced around the lair, pausing to smile when he spotted Sensei and Casey. After he'd completed his brief scan of the room, he felt his stomach clench and saw his vision go blurry with sudden tears.

Michelangelo hadn't made it. And Mikey? Was not expendable.

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Author's Notes: In the movie, Donny's the only one who never expresses a single interest in staying behind in Japan, so this chapter explores that a bit. Also, the idea that the boys wouldn't even think of Splinter while deciding whether to stay or not? No way. You don't just abandon the old, mutated ninja-rat that raised you like that. Nope.