It was hard. It was possibly the most difficult recovery Don had ever gone through. But, he reflected, at least he wasn't in pain.

He also knew that he wasn't yet dealing with all the psychological baggage of what had happened to him. That would come later.

Learn how to walk first, he told himself, all through the long night. Have an emotional breakdown later.

He couldn't get a straight answer on who had or had not gone to bed, but various friends and family members took turns keeping him company while he fought to be able to move this new body. He didn't talk to them, except to assure them that yes, he was still there, and please let him figure out basic motor skills in peace.

Angel and Alopex were with him when, around dawn - not that it made any difference inside the lab - he was finally able to turn his head.

"God," he said, as his optical sensors automatically analyzed the new scene for him. "I feel like the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz. I never thought I would be so relieved to look at something different."

"You're a rock star, Don," Angel told him. "I'd say high-five, but, you know, let's take a rain check on that."

"Maybe hold the rain check too," Don said. "I'm stuck."

It took ten minutes for him to turn his head back the other way, but after that things began to come together. It wasn't quite like Angel had described, and he couldn't exactly say what it was like, but an enigmatic sense of how to make it work was falling into place.

By noon he was walking, slowly and unsteadily, but he could circle the room to the extent that the connecting cable allowed. Angel and Alopex had given way to Honeycutt and Splinter, and they watched Don wordlessly as he moved towards and away from the table that held his former body, craning his neck up at it.

"Am I… alive?" he asked finally. "Up there?"

"Technically, yes," Honeycutt replied. "But you would not be if we stopped life support."

Don looked at the floor, then at the table again. "I want to see myself."

Honeycutt found a stepstool, and helped Don climb it. The Turtle looked silently at his abandoned form, his neck swivelling back and forth with soft mechanical whirrings.

"Try to keep the machines going?" he asked, after a long moment. "I'm - I'm not ready to close that door yet."

"We will do all that we can," Honeycutt promised.

Don nodded. "Sensei… please help me put my mask on?"

Splinter moved around the table, and gently slid Donatello's mask from his brow, taking care not to disturb the sleep-like expression on his face. With slow, telegraphed movements, he tied the purple fabric over his son's new eyes, adjusting it until his vision was unobscured.

"All right." Don reached out, clumsily, and Splinter took his hand with quiet understanding. "I'm ready to be disconnected now."

"Certainly." Honeycutt moved to take hold of the cable, where it was attached to the helmet. "Please tell us at once if anything does not feel right."

"It would be easier to tell you if something did feel right," Don muttered, trying to cover his trepidation with a joke.

Honeycutt unplugged the cord.

And Don felt - nothing. No difference from a moment ago. He nodded at the professor's questioning look, and Honeycutt came to loosen the other end of the cable from the back of his head.

"All right," Don said again. He surveyed his body one more time, then turned away. "Let's go see the guys."

When Don emerged from the cooling unit, the room outside was empty, save for Harold typing away at a computer. The scientist glanced over his shoulder at the sound of the door opening, then did a double-take at who had come out.

"Donatello!" He leapt up from his chair to greet the Turtle. "All systems go, I see."

"More or less," Don replied, moving stiffly away from the door.

"Excellent, excellent." Harold looked down, studying Don's new form. "You know, when I designed this robot based on your capabilities, I had no idea you would someday be controlling its functions from the inside. Tell me, are you able to activate Speeder Mode? Or fire the lasers?"

Don stared at him.

"Mm, yes." Harold stroked his beard as he reconsidered his own words. "On second thought, maybe we should disable the lasers for now." He reached for the screwdriver in his pocket.

"Don't touch me," Don snapped. "Haven't you done enough already?"

"My son," Splinter said gently, from just behind him. "Perhaps it would be wise, until you have better control over this body."

Don sighed, a forced and artificial sound. "All right." He definitely didn't want to accidentally shoot his brothers. As Harold approached him, though, another important thought came to his mind. "Wait, isn't Metalhead's control panel -"

The next sound that came out of the robot's voice synthesizer was a scream, tinny and mechanical but filled with very real fear.

Immediately, Harold slammed the hatch of the metal shell. "Don, what's the -"

"Donatello." Splinter spoke over Harold's question in a commanding tone. "Are you hurt?"

"I - No." Don tried to regain his composure, but the impossibility of doing breathing exercises was suffocating and only made things worse. "I don't think this body can feel pain. But right now it's occupied by a mind that categorizes that as something that should never happen."

Splinter placed a comforting hand on Donatello's forearm, and the sensation of pressure calmed him a little. "Are you able to try again?"

"Y-yes." Don turned his head to look at Harold. "But do it quickly."

Harold nodded, and in a handful of seconds he had opened the panel, tweaked a few controls, and closed everything up again. "That should do it."

"Okay." Don worked his arms, making sure he could still control them. "Where are my brothers?"

"They wanted to let off some steam," Harold said, slipping the screwdriver back into the pocket of his lab coat. "I sent them to the testing room; there's nothing there now that they can destroy."

Don looked towards the hallway, calculating. "I'm not up to walking that far. Master Splinter -"

"I will be right back," Splinter said, and vanished along the metal passage.

There was nothing at all ninja-like about the way Raph, Leo, and Mike came thundering up the hall. Don raised a hand in greeting as they skidded to a halt.

"Hey, guys."

"Donnie!" Mike cheered, flinging up his own hands. Then he stopped, arms hanging in the air, not seeming sure what to do next. "Can I - give you a hug? Would that be weird?"

"No," Don said. "That would be just right."

In a moment his brothers were kneeling on the floor around him, embracing him tightly.

"What else can we do for you?" Leo asked, when their need to be all together again was, for the time being, satisfied. "What do you need now?"

"Tell me you stopped the Technodrome," Don said. "Tell me this was all worth it."

"We - Yes," Leo replied. "Burnow Island was terraformed, but nothing beyond that. Fugitoid shut everything down."

"And destroyed it?" Don pressed.

"No," Leo admitted. "I mean - it's still standing. You'd have to ask him how fried the circuits are."

Don made a mental note to do exactly that, and moved on. "Krang?"

"Sent to Dimension X."

"Shredder?"

"We don't know."

"You don't know?"

Leo looked at his knees, then forced himself to face his brother as he delivered the news. "Don, it was chaos. I know this isn't how you wanted it to end, but for now, can we just be glad we're all alive?" He held Don's faintly-glowing gaze for a moment longer, before he had to look away. "Um…"

For a minute Don didn't move. Then he rested a hand on Leo's arm. "It's okay. We'll get them next time. Just wait until I learn how to fire the lasers."

"They put your brain in a robot with freaking lasers?" Raph asked.

"Dude," Mike said, sitting up on his knees, "that is so cool."

It was cool, Don reflected, as he clumsily joined in the exchange of fist bumps. There were going to be setbacks, to be sure, and challenges, and frustrations. But there were also going to be some very interesting opportunities.

After a few more long days of recovery, before they went home - thank goodness for the teleporter - Don sought out Harold.

"Does Metalhead have any secret functions that I really should know about?" he asked first.

Harold thought for a moment. "Well, you've got the Anti-Gravity Gauntlet. And there's Terminator Mode. I rather like that one. Ah, and -"

"I didn't ask for a list of features, Harold."

"Oh, fine." Harold pouted a little. "I don't think there are any capabilities you haven't seen."

"Then would you mind re-enabling everything?" Don turned a little, offering his shell to the scientist. "I'm not ready to use the weapons yet, but... I'd feel better knowing I could."

"Of course." Harold made the necessary adjustments quickly, remembering the earlier incident.

"I haven't eaten or slept since I transferred," Don said, while Harold was occupied with the circuits, "and even for me that's unusual. Am I right in thinking that all I need now is to plug myself into an outlet once in a while?"

"What else do you expect a robot to be powered by?" Harold answered. "No, don't tell me. Who knows what kinds of things your strange friends use as power sources." He stood up, and Don turned back around to face him. "You'd better get going, I suppose."

"Yeah." Don started towards where his family was waiting, then stopped and turned back once more. "By the way," he said. "Thanks for saving my life, Harold. I didn't know you cared that much about me."

"Care about you?" Harold waved a hand dismissively. "Don't be obstruse, Donatello."

Don let the word go unchallenged, just this once.