A/N: Here we have it, Dudes and Dudettes, the final chapter before the Epilogue. :D

Sciencegirl, right? I love babies. Yaaass.

Feather, I'm happy to instill such fangirl-like impulses. :)

February 11
4:12 P.M.

Splinter's new bedroom was smaller than his previous one by more than half the space. At one point, he could lay his futon at least a yard away from his Chabudai which could seat five people on its Zabutons. He could pace, circle his children, set up walls of Asian decor, and it had a calm, open area to meditate in.

Now, he had little more than a Japanese-styled end table that was separated from his futon by a shoji screen panel placed in the short distance between them. There was barely room to sit on the Zabuton at the table, let alone room for error if he lost balance or hosted more company than one clan member.

However, the master held back all complaints.

He was old; to him, the repurposed tower base felt cozy and he had few personal possessions to put on display anyway. Besides, he had already spent too much time in his bedroom during his cancer stage. And with the excitement of newborn twins filling Saisei, why would he want to be anywhere other than the living room?

He had a Bonsai tree, at least. A line of bamboo shoots also grew from a long, low-rise pot. It ran behind a trunk littered with candles yet before two other shoji panels that acted as accents on the truck's two sides. Their thin leaves were beautiful to study during meditation, and Splinter had decided long ago that the larger bedroom beyond the kitchen was best suited for Leonardo.

It would not cramp the Jonin like a Black Lotus cell. He would have comfortable space to retreat to if needs be. There was also room for expansion, perhaps…a future mate.

'Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo all walk similar paths now. But Leonardo…' Splinter raised a letter that had recently been delivered by April.

Sensei,

My letters have been scarce since last Fall. Forgive me. I've been busy, but now it's late and I can't sleep…

My time here is drawing to a close. I can sense it. We're preparing for something big, something that will end a fifty-year conflict. The mess here will come to a head. And the crazy thing is…it doesn't scare me. I honestly feel like we're going to fight this battle. And win.

'Fight? Since when did Leonardo ever mention violence? Had he been in a war this whole time?' Splinter's brows furrowed as he continued reading the letter.

Winning. That's what scares me. Because when we do win, I must return home. Don't get me wrong. I miss everybody. I love them. And I bet much has changed. But I…I'll have to leave someone here….

She's helped me through so much. Truth be told, every time I think about telling her my plans, my voice leaves me. I look into her sun eyes and become scared. Scared I'll hurt her. Scared she'll cry for me. Scared I'll never see her smile again…

That's probably the last problem you want to hear, right? If I could've grown attached to any woman, why couldn't it have been someone in New York?

Slowly, Splinter sighed. Leonardo's Kanji cut off without a date or goodbye. The letter was never meant for anyone else; it had been for the Jonin, to talk to himself through his father. Splinter always expected they would be that way, like a diary of sorts. What he never expected was this helpful 'someone'.

Leonardo never mentioned her by name. For safety, he said. Yet through his son Splinter felt he knew this woman. She was honorable, and self-sacrificing, and had an uncanny ability to make his son laugh in his darkest times. They had pulled each other out of a void, from what he read.

Now the question became: would Leonardo leave? Or would his newly-awakened confidence be shattered by losing a battle he assured his father he would win?

"Sensei!" Knock. "Sensei!" Knock. "Sensei!" Double knock.

Placing down the letter, Splinter raised his chin to the narrow door that led into the kitchen's second half. "Come in, Michelangelo."

The door handle turned. Then, three mutant turtles fell inside the bedroom. Michelangelo's chin hit the wood floor and he gagged when the two heavier brothers atop his carapace failed to stand.

"My sons," said Splinter, incapable of hiding a grin. "Perhaps you should be in the basement Dojo, further honing your stealth and agility skills."

Raphael raised a finger to Donatello, who lay at the pile's top. "I'll trust that elevator when Don gets it ta stop squeakin' so damn much."

"We couldn't afford a new one, Raph," the genius spat. "Besides, an elevator takes up less space and is handicap-friendly. Given the circumstances, it was the best choice."

"An' it squeaks like an old mattress."

"Where's your sense of adventure, Raphy Boy?" Michelangelo, pinned yet leaning on his elbows, sought to pull himself out from beneath the pile. "It's hidden by a bookcase door, even. Just pretend you're a secret agent!"

Raphael blanched.

"My sons," Splinter raised a paw and chuckled, "I assume you are not here to complain about our elevator."

As if cold water had drenched the trio, each brother tensed.

"We—we wanted to talk about Leo," Donatello said.

"Yeah," Raphael's gaze narrowed, "he's missin' too much. Our move. Everythin' Gray's done for us. Ya're cancer. Hugh 'n Blaine gettin' closer. Mia knowin' our clan. Pink 'n Adeline."

"Not to mention the birth of his first-ever nieces!" Michelangelo added. His wounded eyes struck Splinter, and the old master prepared himself for his youngest son's continuation. "We're growing without him. It doesn't feel right. He—he needs to be here, Otōsan. We…"

"We want him back," Donatello finished, if a bit uncertain.

"We want our clan together again," Raphael concluded.

Splinter smiled at his children then raised his furry chin higher. "I have also been thinking about Leonardo," he said, a paw flat against the Jonin's letter. "And the time has come to bring him home."

A/N: Dun, dun, dun. Set up for the next book "The Distance". Which may take a while...sorry! I'll post the Epilogue here soon.