Brandon had lost track of days, but he honestly didn't care. He vaguely recognized that the constant IV was making him drowsier, but he had no desire to fight the effects of the medication. It was better not to be to awake. Sleep is good. Sleep means I don't have to think, I don't need to remember, or feel anything at all.

Brandon had been in and out so many times that he had a difficult time gauging how much time was passing. He'd started to equate the hour of day based on who was sitting with him when he came around. His sisters had been frequent visitors, but he could also recall Greg, the docs and the turtles being present.

Brandon had said very little to anyone, and they barely spoke to him. Nevertheless, the ability to count on someone else to be there made him feel more at ease. He'd made almost no attempt to speak since seeing the blue-masked turtle for the first time.

It had been an absolute shock to "wake up" to Leonardo standing over him. In Brandon's mind, he'd groggily assumed that the turtle was a trick of his imagination, a hallucination to further torment him. Now more confident of what was real, he was content to remain where he was to prevent the further pain that moving induced.

The man was covered by nothing other than a thin sheet that came halfway up his chest. He recalled getting tangled in a regular blanket at some point, and being momentarily transported back to his nightmare with the sensation of being smothered and unable to breathe. The room was warm enough that he didn't require the blanket, and thankfully Luke hadn't forced it back on him.

Throughout his "awake" time when he couldn't sleep Brandon strove to keep his mind clear and avoided asking any questions, although part of him wanted to. The time he'd spent with the Akiudo was a confusing mass of fuzzy images that didn't give him any certainty as to whether or not the events had actually taken place.

He distinctly remembered being taken by the Akiudo, and Daichi's sick pleasure in harming him. The cramped quarters of his prison and the agonizing pain of his broken arm chained behind his back were crystal clear. Other things were more difficult to recall, but Brandon consciously recognized that every fearful reaction that swelled so easily to the surface was related to events from his captivity.

All the parts I really don't want to remember, he thought morosely. The only thing that Brandon readily admitted to himself from the extended water torture was that he hadn't expected to live. He'd accepted death as being inevitable, expected it even. Thus when he'd first seen Leonardo, he'd been stunned to realize that he was not only rescued, but alive.

Despite the warmth the heater provided, the mere thought of the torture made him feel like he was freezing. He trembled as his breath hitched in his chest and tried to block the memories that were dawning on his mind. Remove yourself. Remove yourself, he silently urged.

Brandon turned his head on his pillow as he breathed a little deeper, licking cracked lips that were starved for moisture. Ice chips had recently become his new best friend, but they had yet to completely cure his dry mouth. He glanced toward the "visitor" chair expectantly, and saw Raphael.

The red-masked turtle nodded his head to acknowledge him. "Hey, man."

"Raph…what time is it?"

Raphael sat up straighter, seeming surprised that the man had addressed him directly. "About a quarter after 10pm," he replied.

"What day? I mean…how long have I been here?"

"It's been about three days since you've been underground, Bran. Can I get you some more ice?"

Brandon shook his head, his forehead creasing as he contemplated the things he could remember since waking up. It feels like I'm missing something. I'm know missing a lot of things, so there's no telling what this is about.

As he cast a look around Donatello and Jenna's bedroom, the answer occurred to him in a flash. Wait, that's it. Donny. Everyone else has come, at least…I'm pretty sure they have. I don't remember Don at all.

Brandon propped up on his good arm so that he could see Raphael better. "Raph, where's Donny?"

The turtle hunched further down in his chair, and he seemed suddenly fascinated by the floor.

"Raph, where's Don?" Brandon persisted. "Has he been in here? I don't remember him."

"No, Bran, he hasn't."

"I'm not mad at him," he mumbled. "He doesn't need to avoid me."

"Don's not avoiding you, Brandon," Raphael said, but offered no further explanation.

"Raph, where is he?" The man could feel himself getting exasperated.

"Bran, hold on a second, okay? I need to grab someone, and I'll be right back," the turtle replied.

Brandon thought he was going to retrieve Donatello, so he was mildly disappointed when Luke came back into the room instead.

"Luke? What's the deal?" Brandon craned his neck, but couldn't see Raphael either. "What is this, the case of disappearing turtles? What's going on around here?"

"I've come to talk to you about Donny," Luke answered.

"He needs a go-between? Seriously? Doc, I'm not gonna bite his head off. Things didn't end well with us the other night, and I'd really like to talk to him."

"Brandon, if Donatello was capable of coming to you, he already would have."

"What does that mean? What's wrong?"

"Donny's hurt," Luke said carefully. "He's hurt badly."

The possibility of anyone else being injured hadn't entered Brandon's mind. A lump instantly formed in his throat as he focused intensely on Luke. "How bad, Doc?"

"Bad," Luke said maddeningly.

"I need more than that, Luke. Tell me what's going on."

The doctor sat down in the chair and rubbed a hand across his left temple. "This isn't easy. I knew it would come up eventually, but I didn't want to upset you—"

"Doc," Brandon interrupted sharply. "What's wrong with Donny?"

"He's in a coma."

"How? What happened to him?"

"The same thing that happened to you," Luke said bitterly. "He was ambushed by the Akiudo, the night you were kidnapped."

"Ambushed?" Brandon repeated. "I don't understand. He was home…"

"Don started out there, yes," Luke said patiently. "But then he went to the surface alone, and he was attacked without anyone realizing it."

Brandon sensed a great amount of restraint being exerted on Luke's part. "You're not being specific enough. I don't see how the Akiudo could have found Donny, unless…" The words turned to sand inside his mouth. "Unless…"

"Did you know that you misplaced your phone?" Luke asked, with a finality that indicated he knew what Brandon had realized.

The bronze-haired man nodded weakly. "I was looking for it, right before…" Again, he couldn't finish.

"The guys found your phone in the Den," Luke explained. "Donny made the trip to the surface to return it, and because he wanted to make up with you."

Brandon clenched his eyes shut for a long moment. "How is he, Doc? What did those thugs do to him?"

Luke shook his head. "We don't know how it went down. After the guys got you out and things were finished with Daichi, they took one of the warriors to question him. The man said that the Akiudo were waiting in the apartment when Donny arrived. I don't know how they knew he was coming. They had trouble containing Donatello, and Daichi ended up using a taser on him.

"My guess is that the charge wasn't strong enough to completely overpower him, because Don made an attempt to escape once they were outside the apartment. The warrior said Don utilized a wire as a zip line. Like the idiot that Daichi was, he followed him. Their combined weight was too much for the line, and it snapped. They crashed through a wall of tempered glass into an adjoining apartment building."

Brandon took a soft breath. "I noticed Daichi was hurt, but he was perfectly fine to torment me."

"He got off a lot easier than Donny did," Luke said quietly. "Don came down on a granite island, and obtained a depressed skull fracture."

The words struck Brandon like a punch in the gut, and he couldn't speak before Luke continued.

"The real problem was…like I said, nobody knew about it. Don was on his own for hours before we caught up to him."

Brandon studied Luke's face, finally picking up on his level of discouragement. "Doc, he…he's gonna be all right, isn't he?"

Luke hesitated for far too long. "We don't know," he said finally. "He had a massive build-up in intracranial pressure that negatively impacted his brainstem. The swelling has come down enough for us to be able to detect some abnormalities on the scans."

Brandon swore. "And no one thought I needed to know about this?"

"We had every intention of telling you, slowly."

"You don't think he's gonna make it," Brandon said bluntly.

"I don't know if he will. There's a difference, Bran."

Brandon wavered through a shaky breath. "Doc, I've gotta see him."

"Uh…Brandon, I'm not sure if that's the best thing right now."

"Don't do this to me, Luke. Don't you treat me like some little kid. Let me see Donny, please."

Luke swallowed deeply. "Hold on a minute."

"Where are you going?"

"To get help."

Brandon sat up further with the vague feeling that his weight was dragging him back down on the mattress. He was being assaulted by a different kind of fear now, which was raising his heart rate before he'd even had the chance to go anywhere. This isn't the end, he told himself fiercely. Doc didn't say that he wasn't going to live. They've all been in bad spots before, and Don's made it this far.

Brandon began working on getting his legs over the side of the bed, and looked over when he heard footsteps.

"Wait, Brandon," Luke ordered. "Don't try to get up on your own. I need to unhook you, and I brought Raph to assist."

The bronze-haired man fixed Raphael with a mute look that must have conveyed his hurt well.

"Bran, I'm sorry," Raphael murmured. "We were gonna tell you. You'd just been through so much, and we didn't know how to break the news about Don too."

"I get that I'm a complete mess," Brandon snapped. "But this is important!"

The red-masked turtle made no attempt to defend himself as he stood by to help Brandon up. The man bleakly watched Luke finish unhooking lines. He'd been so consumed by the pain and weariness that he'd been satisfied to stay where he could rest without questioning anything else. Brandon recognized that the others were only trying to protect him, but the revelation that one of his best friends was lying at death's door changed everything.

Raphael supported Brandon from behind as Luke allowed him to get up. As he tried to straighten out his back, the man almost changed his mind about moving. The pain striking in his rib cage was so severe that he could barely breathe.

"Brandon," Luke started.

"No," he said forcefully. "I have to see him."

Brandon's legs felt like liquid and shook when he tried to rest weight on them.

"Are you sure about this, Bran?" Raph asked uncertainly.

He gritted his teeth against the burn on his chest. "Please, Raph. Just get me there, all right?"

"You want me to make this easier?"

Brandon rolled his eyes, but relinquished control to the turtle. He sensed that Raphael was trying to handle him gingerly, but he still grimaced as his friend lifted him. Luke exited the bedroom ahead of them, and Brandon was actually relieved when there was no one else in the living area.

Pride knows no bounds, does it? He stole a glimpse of Raphael, and saw grief and worry etched in the turtle's face. My word. They've been dealing with all of this and waiting for days to find out if their brother is going to live or not. It's a wonder they're not acting crazier than me.

"Prepare yourself, Bran," Luke instructed. "Don's not in good shape. I'll go ahead and grab a chair for Brandon, Raph."

Brandon's heart picked up again as Raphael took him inside the Lab. He heard Luke wheeling a desk chair around, and the turtle stayed with Brandon until he was sure he could sit up. The position wasn't comfortable, but for the first time in days, he didn't care. Luke directed the chair across the room toward the occupied bed.

The closer Brandon got, the more he wanted to hide his eyes. He closed his left fist at his side as he forced himself to take in the sight of the injured turtle. Donatello's signature purple mask was missing, and his head was engulfed in tightly wrapped bandages. Looking at his friend, it didn't feel like it could possibly be Donny lying there.

Brandon grasped Donatello's arm tightly, and held on as if he could impart strength through his touch. "Don," he whispered, chin quivering out of his control. He slumped against the edge of the bed, burying his head as he was overwhelmed by emotion. "Donny," was the only other word he could say.

Tears came freely, and they didn't feel like they would cease any time soon.