When Donatello arrived back at the Lair, it was Raphael who first caught sight of him. Raph took his sudden return, and his increased height, in stride. He even greeted him with a compliment.

"You're looking good, bro," he said, ambling towards the door to meet his brother. "And you had time to go to Bloomingdale's." He nodded towards the parcel Don was carrying, with its upscale department store logo. "What's in the bag?"

Wordlessly, Don pulled out a glass jar filled with liquid.

Equally silently, Raph studied the jar and its contents. "Is that… your brain?"

Don nodded.

"You're keeping your own brain in a jar." Raph looked at his nerdy brother with new respect. "That is wicked, Don. Weird as hell. But wicked."

"Thank you, I guess," Don said, and then he made a suspiciously rapid exit towards his room.

He had gotten halfway across the floor before Raph began to put two and two together. "Wait a minute," he called, and a chill ran down his spine when Don didn't. "Donnie, why is your brain not in your body? Where –" He wasn't great at arithmetic, but at about this moment he arrived at an answer of four. "Oh. Don. Shit."

Don strode back to him and put a powerful metal hand over his mouth. "Don't say anything. Okay? I'll tell them later."

Raph found he couldn't break his brother's grip on his beak, but he said everything he needed to with his eyes.

"I promise, I will tell them tonight." Don sought the confirmation he needed in Raph's gaze, then let him go.

Raph was a Turtle of his word, but as his brother backed away, he said softly, "It's sick, Don."

"I know," Don replied. "But just imagine what Mikey would have done with the body parts, if it were him."

He left Raph with that mental image, and disappeared into his room.

True to his word, Don summoned the family together that evening for a talk.

"I have three things to tell you," he began, "and at least two of them you're not going to like."

"Start with the bad news, I suppose," Leo said.

"Okay." Don put his hands on the table, palms towards each other, bookending an empty space. He was getting much better at not acting like a robot. "I… I didn't come straight home from Harold's today. I had some things to take care of there first." He looked around at each of his brothers, at his father. "We turned off the life support machines. I watched myself die. I'm… not going back."

"You should not have done this without telling us, Donatello," Splinter said, after a pause – too gentle to be a reprimand, but the hurt in his voice was unmistakable.

"It wasn't your decision."

"Still, we would have liked to have been there." Splinter looked at his other sons, and they nodded in response.

"There was nothing to see," Don replied, holding his ground despite being outnumbered. "If it hadn't been for the monitors, I wouldn't even have known the difference."

"You mistake my point, Donatello." This time a harsher edge underlined Splinter's words.

Even at this, Don did not back down. "With all due respect, Sensei – you already watched all of us die, once. Why would you want to see that again?"

For a moment their eyes locked. Then Splinter reclined minutely in his seat. He did not speak, but his gaze made it clear that the subject was not closed.

"What's the second bad news?" Mike asked in a small voice.

Don re-centered himself before continuing. "The second bad news is that Honeycutt and I searched the island and couldn't find any trace of the Shredder."

"Meaning what?" Leo asked.

"Meaning he's still alive," Don said. "Unless someone recovered his remains, which Honeycutt and I think is unlikely."

"Any clue where he went?" Raph asked, but it was clear he didn't have high hopes for an affirmative answer.

Don shook his head. "Nothing. For now, we'll have to assume he's alive and well and rebuilding the Foot." He looked again at his father, and this time there was something apologetic in his gaze.

"I… am distressed to hear this," Splinter said, after a moment's careful consideration of his words. "I know the destruction of the Shredder was very important to you, my son. As it is to me."

"We had better be ready to meet him again," Don said. "When he realizes I'm not dead, he's not going to be happy."

"Great," Leo deadpanned, as they all pondered that eventuality. "What's the good news?"

"He didn't say there was good news," Raph pointed out. "He only said there was one thing we might not not like."

"Well," Don said, "how do you feel about a super-weapon being out of commission?"

"Pretty good," Leo replied, "but tell me more."

"The Technodrome has been thoroughly re-programmed," Don said, and there was more than a hint of pride in his voice.

"Re-programmed?" Mike echoed. "That doesn't sound like destroyed. I definitely remember you using the word destroy before you left."

"Honeycutt talked me out of it," Don said. "The Technodrome is… valuable. There's nothing else like it on Earth. Even stripped down for parts, it has immense technological potential."

Leo's expression tightened. "And how many of our enemies are itching to get their hands on it?"

"Probably a lot," Don replied. "But it's on a remote island with an unbreathable atmosphere, so they're going to have a tough time."

"It's not unbreathable to Krang," Leo said.

"Krang is in prison on another planet."

"Stockman has an army of expendable robots."

"Leo." Don put a hand over his brother's, reassuringly. "It's covered, okay? Trust me."

Leo's mouth twitched, but he let it go. "What did you re-program the Technodrome to do, anyway?"

Don sat back, looking very satisfied with himself. "Well… that's another story."