As the shoji door slammed shut behind him, Don could feel himself starting to hyperventilate, his breath coming in wild quick gasps. Black spots were swimming in his vision, and he started to wonder if he was going to pass out from what he had just heard.

It couldn't be. He couldn't have impregnated April. He had always known that — barring the mutation of some compatible female turtles — he and his brothers would never have offspring of their own. And that was assuming that they weren't made sterile by the physical and genetic changes brought about by their unintended mutations, which he had always believed was almost certain. But now — now he was being told he had fathered a child — with April —

"Donnie, Donnie — get it together," Raph said, gripping his arms and giving him a sharp shake.

Don took a long gasping breath and clutched at his brother, as if Raph was a sturdy rock in rapids that threatened to sweep him away. Raph seemed to sense this, and let Don hang on to him as the purple-masked Turtle struggled to regain his composure. As he closed his eyes and tried to breathe normally, he felt a furry hand gently stroking his head.

"My son… my poor son," Master Splinter said quietly.

Don let his head droop towards his father, and was rewarded with the feeling of Splinter's arms wrapping around him. He could feel his nerves beginning to calm, as they had when he was very young and frightened by something, and Splinter had taken him aside to comfort him. But he still felt like he was unraveling, as though he was going to come apart if any more pressure was put on him.

"It's too much," Don whispered, shaking his head. "It's just too much…"

"What the shell's wrong with him?" Raph asked, crouching down beside him.

"He is overwhelmed," Splinter said grimly. "The lingering trauma of what he has suffered, and now the news of April's pregnancy, have been too much for him." He tightened his arms around Don's shoulders, and said quietly, "Listen to my voice, Donatello. You must breathe deeply, and find your center. Bring calm to your spirit…"

Don took a deep, shuddering breath, ducking his head down as he tried to stop his trembling. His father's low, soft voice seemed to soothe him, and after a few minutes he was able to pull away and kneel on his own, still breathing hard as if he had been running a marathon. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, trying desperately to find the center of his soul amidst all the uncertainty churning through him.

"You okay now, Donnie?" Raph said.

"April," Don said faintly. "I need to see April — I need to tell her —" He began to rise from the floor.

"Hold on there," Raph said, placing a hand on his shoulder, pressing him back down. "If you go chargin' out like this, you'll just end up flippin' your shell again and we'll have to calm you down all over again." The red-masked Turtle slid down to the floor and crossed his legs, a stern look in his eyes.

Don stared at him hollowly. "I—I guess you're right," he said faintly.

"He is right," Splinter said firmly. "First we must calm you, Donatello, and learn why it is that this news has upset you so."

Don pressed a hand to his forehead, feeling as if his brain was boiling. "Because — because it's not possible that I — that I —"

Raph made an exasperated noise. "Look, Donnie, you told us all years ago that our mutations probably made us sterile, right?"

"That — that seemed to be the most likely scenario," Don said faintly. "And it didn't matter because there weren't any female mutant turtles."

"'Cause two different species can't make babies, right?"

Don swallowed hard. "Well, a few similar species can interbreed, like donkeys and horses, but we're so different from humans that it would never — it should never work."

"Except apparently it did," Raphael said bluntly. "Or are you sayin' April's a liar?"

"No, I never — I know she would never —" Don stammered, feeling as if Raph had punched him in the gut.

"You once told me, Donatello," Splinter said quietly, placing a hand on Donatello's arm, "that a hypothesis can only be proven by experimentation. And if the experiments prove the hypothesis wrong, then a new hypothesis must be made." He glanced at the sliding door. "It seems that your theories were wrong, my son. Perhaps it is time for you to consider what has made it possible for April to conceive your child, rather than attempting to deny that what has happened is possible. For if it were truly impossible, it would not have happened."

His words sounded very quiet in the small stone room, but Don felt them echoing in his bones like the ringing of a church bell. His fingers dug into his knees as he struggled with what his father had told him — all the more so, since he knew he was right.

Splinter slowly turned Don to face him, sadness creeping into his eyes. "I understand that you are frightened, my son, and you are confused. The wounds to your spirit have not had enough time to heal before this new challenge was placed before you. But you must remember that you are not alone, and we will never abandon you, Donatello." He smiled, with a tinge of sorrow. "I only wish your child had been conceived in joy rather than in pain."

"I need to see April," Don whispered. "I need to talk to her. I need to let her know that—"

"There will be time for that later," Splinter said firmly. "First, you must find peace within yourself. Stay in this room and meditate for a time, until you feel strong enough. I will speak to April first."

"I'll stay with him," Raph said gruffly.

Normally Don would have felt some annoyance at someone volunteering to babysit him. But right now, he felt grateful that Raph was there, just standing by him. His brother had been watching over him anxiously ever since his rescue — worrying about him, watching over him as he slept, trying to restrain him in the shower — and in some indefinable way he felt better when Raph was there.

Splinter rose to his feet, and gently patted Don's shoulder. "We will find a way through this, my son. As a family," he said softly.

Don watched as his father left the room, and caught a brief snatch of Leo's voice coming from outside before the door slid shut. He sighed, and leaned back against one of the stone pillars, pulling his legs into the lotus position and draping his hands loosely on his thighs. Then he closed his eyes, seeking quiescence and peace within his own soul.

But peace eluded him. He kept seeing April's face in front of him, though his eyes were tightly shut. He remembered her face while she had been holding him in the cell. He had trembled inside her, feeling both a heated, wild pleasure and an aching sadness that it hadn't been because she loved him or wanted him. Her eyes had been full of pain as she tried to comfort him… and now that he thought about it, that was probably the moment when he had impregnated her…

Then her face changed to how it had looked after their rescue, stained with tears and exhausted, clinging to him as she finally gave in. He had felt both physical and emotional pain, but there had also been a sense of relief — relief that she was safe with Casey and his brothers, and that the Purple Dragons would never touch her again.

And finally, her face again when she had announced she was pregnant. At first, he had thought she was saying that she had been pregnant with Casey's child when they were kidnapped. It had gone right to his heart like a shard of glass, but he had kept his composure. He hadn't seen the dread in her eyes at first — he had been too surprised by her announcement, even before she had said it was his child.

His child. Their child.

Don groaned, and leaned forward to bury his face in his hands. He needed to see April. He needed to look into her eyes and see that she was all right. He wasn't going to have any peace of mind until he did.

"You okay, Donnie?" Raph asked.

Don sighed. "I will be." He reached for the door.