TMNT= Not Mine

It's been ages. I knew that this was going to be a long fic to write...I didn't know it would be a-year-between-chapter-long. I can crank out a crack fic in a matter of minutes but give me one of my serious fics and I'll labour over it forever. I do intend to finish this fic, for what it's worth. But, uh. I'm currently working on a short five chapter TMNT fic that I'll hopefully have posted sometime soon. Then I'll work on the next chapter of Fallout.

The usual warnings. Dark fic, dealing with dark themes. My thanks to my beta, the wonderful DeeMG, for helping me with this chapter and for all the encouragement. She really wants this fic out there.

FF. Thanks for removing the page-breaks three times. NOT.

Chapter Two: This is Biology. It is neither good nor evil. It just simply is.

"So in conclusion," Mikey droned, shooting his poster a quick glance, "human naughty bits are sooo gross! I mean, they just hang there! All exposed, right there! Can you imagine how yucky it would be having it out there? They need tails to keep them in. Seriously."

His brothers stifled the urge to snigger as Master Splinter raised one eyebrow at his son. "I see, Michelangelo. And this is related to the…reproductive organs of a turtle how?"

The young turtle sagged; "It's so hard to find any information about them! All the stuff I found out was about humans, so that's why I did them instead."

Master Splinter sighed; when he initially had suggested the project he'd meant it as an exercise for his young sons to understand how their bodies worked and the urges that would come with maturity. Unfortunately, he'd failed to take into account that information pertaining to turtles would be hard to find. Raphael had completely refused to do the project and Leonardo had only managed a badly drawn picture...though which of his brothers Leo had managed to convince to pose for him Master Splinter didn't know but he suspected lots of bribery and blackmail was involved.

"Very well," he sighed, "I accept that you have at least done some research and actually completed your project. Donatello, your turn."

Don bounced up and down excitedly as he climbed to his feet and loaded the video into the battered VCR. Finally, it was his turn! He glanced back at his brothers with a smug grin as they frowned in confusion; his project was definitely the best one out of them all.

"Well, I was able to get an actual recording about reproduction in turtles," he said, pausing the video before it could play. He glanced at his father and waited for his approval before he continued.

Master Splinter paused thoughtfully; "Donatello, when did you make this recording?"

The young turtle shuffled awkwardly; "Um…late at night," he admitted, knowing better than to lie to his father, "when everyone was asleep."

The old rat frowned, internally impressed at his child's stealth skills in procuring the recording without his knowledge. "You could have just asked for permission," he chided gently, "I would have allowed you to stay up. But for the next week, there will be no late nights to work on your projects."

Donatello's face fell but he accepted his father's punishment without protest. He started the video and stepped back to watch. For several long minutes, his family was silent as they watched two male red eared sliders battle for dominance, then the winner copulated with a nearby female. Don snuck a glance at his brothers; Raph was struggling to keep a straight face, his beak occasionally twitching into a feral smirk. Leo, on the other hand, was wide-eyed and thoughtful.

And Mikey…

A wide, cheeky grin spread across his brother's face as the video progressed. Eventually, he blurted loudly, "Turtles are natural porn stars!"

The other three turtles fell silent and still as their master's startled gaze swung back at them. "Michelangelo," he asked at last, in his soft, about-to-discipline-a-child voice, "Where did you hear that word?"

Mikey shot a panicked glance at his brothers for help but they all averted their eyes and were suddenly the very picture of innocence. "Um. What word Sensei?" he asked brightly, giving his father his very best, I'm-too-cute-to-punish face.

The old rat, however, was immune to such tactics. "How did you learn the word…porn?" he asked uncomfortably.

The turtles were startled that their father had actually used the word, it sounded so strange coming from his mouth. Mikey let out a slightly hysterical giggle that was immediately shut off when Master Splinter narrowed his eyes at him. Suddenly he couldn't stop the words that spilled from his terrified mouth.

"On TV," he babbled quickly, "it was late at night and you were out and I know I should have been in bed but I may have been scared of the things that live underneath my bed cuz Raph and Leo said that there were monsters there that eat turtles with orange masks and that might have been the reason why I couldn't sleep. So I may have watched TV and I may have seensomeadultthings but that wasn't really my fault, it was the things that were going to eat me if I stayed-"

"Michelangelo," Splinter interrupted, glaring down all of his sons now, "I understand, you can stop speaking. I see that all of my sons have been awake now when they were not supposed to be. Perhaps some extra katas are required to ensure that you will remain in bed when told so. Many extra katas."

"But Master Splinter," Raphael immediately protested, "Leo and I haven't been up past our bedtimes!"

The old rat raised a dubious eyebrow. "None of you are capable of sleeping until Michelangelo has fallen asleep," he pointed out dryly. His most hyper son constantly shifted about at night and only when he fell asleep were his brothers capable of doing the same. "It would be impossible for him to sneak past you all without being noticed. And-"

"Sensei, we did stay up late and watch TV when we weren't supposed to!" Leo blurted apologetically. He was never one for concealing the truth from his father for very long.

"It was weird," Raph observed, "The lady and the man were totally naked and they kept kissing each other all over the other's body. Kissing is gross!"

The three other turtles all muttered their agreement of Raph's assessment. "The woman's breasts were too large," Don said, "They couldn't be natural."

"They were gross too!" Mikey exclaimed. "And they were hairy in places they shouldn't have hair! Um…no offense to you, Master Splinter. I mean, you've got hair all over so it's okay but humans-"

"Enough, my sons," the old rat sighed. "We will have a discussion about humans later. But what have you learnt from Donatello's video?"

The four turtles glanced at the screen. "That…red eared sliders mate underwater?" Raph offered.

"They can hold their breath for a really, really long time," Mikey said brightly. "Like us!"

"Sometimes male turtles fight," Leo observed, "And it's not fighting like when Raph and Mikey fight, which is for fun. They fight because there's a girl turtle."

"Master Splinter!" Mikey quickly spoke up, "Raph and Leo sometimes fight like those turtles. But there are no girl turtles here so Raph and Leo shouldn't be fighting like that."

"There should be no fighting between any of you unless it is in the dojo," Splinter reminded them all dryly, "regardless of whether there are girl turtles about or Michelangelo has broken the toys. Donatello, your thoughts please?"

The last turtle glanced up, startled from deep thought. "If the mutagen never changed us," he began softly, "that would be us. I mean, that's how we started out. And we've changed a lot, Master Splinter, and I know we're a lot like humans. But some part of us still…has to be like that."

The old rat nodded, carefully studying his child. "That is correct," he gestured for his sons to settle themselves. "Your bodies are similar in shape to those of humans. But you started life as simple turtles and it is to them that your bodily urges and needs more closely resemble. Our minds may work like those of a human but we must not forget what we started off as."

"Now my sons, about those katas…"

That night, after several long and exhausting katas, as Raph dropped onto his sleeping mat, Mikey rolled over and hissed, "Psst, Raph!"

"What?" Raph grumped. They were already in trouble with Master Splinter for staying up late and he had no intentions of pushing it further. What was his brother up to now?

Mikey let out a mischievous giggle that immediately spoke of trouble, "I bet you my tail is larger than yours," he boasted.

Now, Mikey had no idea if this was true or not, but it was always entertaining riling his sibling up over the most random things. They had compared arm lengths, leg lengths, fingers lengths, thumb lengths; even the lengths of their toe nails had not been exempt. Last time, it had backfired and he'd been disgruntled to learn that Raph had surpassed him in height, but surely in this, he'd be the victor!

Raph groaned wearily, "I don't care, Mikey."

Could someone just shut the brat up? Please?

"You don't care?" Mikey repeated, "Don't care or are you scared that my tail might be bigger than yours?"

"Mikey, this has got to be the dumbest and least important thing you've ever brought up," Leo inserted quickly, before Raph could respond, "Now can we please go to sleep? Before Master Splinter finds us talking and gives us even more katas to do tomorrow?"

"Bet my tail is larger than yours too!" Mikey shot back instantly.

His brothers groaned, recognising that tone in his voice. Mikey was not going to let this up until they gave in and laid out the facts. Nothing but the truth was going to shut him up now.

"Alright!" Raph grunted in exasperation, "Don, you be the judge. Hurry up and do this, I wanna sleep."

With that, he rolled over and buried his head underneath his pillow. Really, if Master Splinter caught them staying up for this, it would most definitely be the most ridiculous thing he'd ever been punished for.

Mikey bounced over to Raph's bed and planted himself next to his brother. "Let's all compare!" he chirped, "Leo, come join us! Don can compare the three of us, then the two of you swap so it's totally fair."

"But I don't care about this!" Leo protested from beneath his bed covers.

"I want to know for sure!" Mikey replied stubbornly. He levelled a glare at Leo. "Get over here, bro!"

"The sooner we do this, the sooner we can go to sleep," Raph called out from under his pillow. Mikey incessantly nudged his brother's body with a toe and Raphael reluctantly surfaced from beneath his bedcovers, both turtles climbed to their feet and waited for their brother to join them.

Muttering under his breath about how ridiculous the entire thing was, Leo slipped from his bed and stood beside his brothers. "You'll drop this the moment it's done, right Mikey?"

"Yep!" the turtle agreed cheerfully as Don crouched behind them and glanced at their tails.

"This is so…awkward," Donatello mumbled, sweeping his keen scientist eyes between his brothers. "The things I do for you," he let out a long suffering sigh, one that both Raph and Leo silently echoed.

Finally, he stood back and announced (with a small measure of malicious glee); "Raph's tail is larger than both of yours."

It was true. Raph's tail was actually noticeably larger than both Leo's tail and Mikey's. Theirs were about the same size but Raph's was significantly larger. He wondered briefly about that but dismissed it, Raph had always been a bit bigger than the rest of them.

"What?" Mikey demanded incredulously. He twisted his head and glared at his brother. "No way. I don't believe you. Leo! Check!"

Don huffed at his brother's disbelief but silently exchanged places with Leo. Getting into an argument would just prolong this ridiculous competition and Splinter would probably just catch them and give them even more punishments!

Leo shuffled gawkily about as he glanced at his brother's backsides. Mikey totally owed him for this. This was stupid, it was ridiculous, it was utterly pointless…he was wasting time getting annoyed at the whole thing. Raph's tail was indeed larger than Mikey's and it was larger than Don's.

"Don's right," he announced. "Raph has the largest tail out of all of us. Now can we go to sleep?"

"My sons?" Master Splinter stood by the door, eyes narrowed at the four children who were definitely-not-asleep. "I see that I did not assign you enough katas…"

Donatello carefully pulled the old video tapes free from his lab's bookshelf. He hadn't thought about them in years, the homework that Master Splinter had assigned them once upon a time when they were small in an effort to understand that they were different from humans. An important fact that had gradually slipped their minds after meeting April and Casey and being treated like they were human.

There is a sickness rolling in his plastron, the heavy feeling that he's done something wrong. He wanted to crawl back into bed and hide under his bed-sheets and never see the light of the world again. Empathy, he realised distantly, is a terrible thing. He knew, logically speaking, that he could have never predicted this. He knew, logically speaking, that none of this is his fault.

The fierce need to believe that he could have done something, that he could have prevented it, that it is his fault is completely illogical and flat-out wrong. But the thought that Mikey has to burden the guilt all alone makes him desperate to claim even the tiniest bit of the blame.

"Donatello?" Master Splinter cast a worried eye over Raphael's still form; his sudden appearance in the doorway of Don's lab had the reptilian engineer flinching. He dropped the video tapes; they clattered on the ground, the noise loud when compared against the previous silence of the room. Don had been unable to tolerate Leo's guilt ridden presence for only a few minutes and had quickly sent his brother away.

"Master Splinter! Where's…Mikey?" Don warily glanced over his father's shoulder as he bent down to retrieve the tapes, as if expecting to see the brother in question lurking behind there.

"He has gone to his room," the rat answered softly, "I asked Leonardo to keep an eye on him. Michelangelo was very…upset."

Understatement of the century.

"Oh," Donatello replied shortly. Even from down here he could hear the demolitions occurring in Michelangelo's room.

He gazed at Master Splinter and his father stared back. Gradually, it occurred to Don that neither of them had the slightest idea of where to even begin. What did one say? What did one do? How do you even start to fix a situation like this? Words, incomplete sentences bubble to Don's tongue, none of them the slightest bit helpful. The silence drew on, devastating in its quiet accusations, mocking their inaction.

"I think Raph's gone catonic," Don blurted finally. He bit his lip, glanced briefly at his brother sprawled out on the little infirmary bed that lived inside his lab. The vague thought that he should probably start treating the few obvious wounds on Raphael's body arose but Raph lost so much control in the past 12 hours that he doesn't dare to touch him without his permission and take away the little that remains. They were minor things that Raph would normally take care of himself. "Leo's a mess because of what he-"

He can't finish that sentence, his throat closed without his permission and Don reflexively touched his neck as if to assure himself that he can still breathe. "Sensei-father, I don't know what to-"

A pair of warm, furry arms wrapped around him and he instinctively relaxed in his father's embrace. "Hush," Master Splinter advised gently, "No one is expecting you to fix this. No one is blaming you for happened."

Don stared miserably at his father, "They will, when they pull themselves together enough. 'Don always knows everything. He should have known that something might happen. He always has all the answers. He's always prepared for-"

"Hush," his father repeated, arms squeezing gently. "We will work things out as we always have done, together as a family."

It took a few minutes but eventually Donatello gathered himself up and pushed his father's arms away from him. "Do…you know what happened yesterday? With Raph and Mikey? I mean, I think I know what happened though I don't know why – there isn't a logical reason for it, it shouldn't have happened-"

A gentle paw on his shoulder halted his babbling. "I know," Master Splinter confessed simply. "When I found Michelangelo, I could smell it on him. As to why it happened, that is something that needs to be investigated, but only when Raphael is awake and coherent for it."

"I don't know how we're going to wake him up," Don muttered quietly, hands tightly clenching the railing of the sick bed.

"It would be best if we let him wake on his own terms. I believe he has retreated deep within himself to deal with yesterday's event. When he is ready, that is when he will wake. For now, we should give Michelangelo the same. He was extremely distressed when I came upon him, to the point of violence. For a hurt this deep, there are no cures, we can only allow time itself to dull the pain."

"Time," Donatello repeated dully.

As if time would make everything better. As if time could change what had happened between his two brothers. Nothing was ever going to fix this. Nothing. You don't pick yourself up and continue like everything was normal after something like this.

Don's world had been broken, everything he thought he knew about himself and his brothers had been turned upside. He had always prided himself about their intelligence, their sentience. The mutagen had elevated them beyond being simple animals. This was the fact of their lives.

Hadn't it?

It could have been him in Michelangelo's place. His brother had always been the fastest out of all of them, the only one capable of evading his father's quick strikes. But had Splinter been a little bit slower-

No, focus on the here and now. Ruminating on the past and the what-could-have-beens wasn't going to help anyone.

Donatello's eyes swept across his brother's battered form and he flinched slightly. "Master Splinter-Father," he whispered fearfully, "He isn't bleeding from-from," Don's voice faltered at what he was saying and he swallowed nervously before continuing, "Down there or if he is, I didn't see. He could get infected so, so-"

Master Splinter hesitated for a moment, then gently nudged Donatello away from his brother. "I will check," he promised, forcing down any swells of emotion. His sons needed him to be clear-headed, even though his world had been completely and irrevocably shaken. "I think it would be best for Raphael is only one of us handles him while he is-"

The old rat cut off as he took in Donatello's demeanour. His son's dark eyes were fixed on Raphael's motionless body and he was far too stiff and still.

Just like before yesterday's events.

"Donatello!" Splinter said sharply and stepped between his two sons quickly. He would not allow a repeat, ever.

The sound of Splinter's voice combined with breaking Donatello's line of sight sent a shudder through the turtle's body. Don shook his head slowly, blinking several times as he returned to himself. If it was possible for him, he would have paled as reason was restored.

"Father," he gasped, pupils dilated enormously wide, "I think if it's best if you don't allow any of us in here with Raphael. For a while. A very long while. In fact, contact between any of us should be limited." He forcibly turned his shell to his brother and waved a hand vaguely behind him; "It would be best to give him a shower as soon as possible."

Under his breath, Donatello mumbled to himself, "I think, think the shock kept me from noticing the pheromones but given enough time, it overwhelmed my mind."

The old rat flinched at Donatello's words. "I sent Leonardo to keep an eye on Michelangelo," he said as fear plunged through his heart.

Upstairs is eerily silent.

Leo leant tiredly against Mikey's door. His brother had stormed straight into his room without a word and Master Splinter had stopped on his way to Don's lab to quietly ask Leo to watch his brother. The door was locked and Mikey had not responded to his calls to open it. All he could do now was listen to his brother's angered pacing, the occasional sound of items smashing against the walls and Leo could only wonder what had reduced Mikey to such a state.

Something had gone wrong with them; some sort of craziness had seized control of them during yesterday's training session. That, Leo knew. His memories weren't exactly clear; he remembered flashes of battle with his brothers, a spar gone out of control and turned deadly, and a band of purple and unquenchable bloodlust. The specifics remained frustratingly out of reach but something told him he did not want to know the details. From what he'd managed to piece together since awakening, Raphael and Michelangelo had vanished during the fight and Master Splinter had to intervene between Donatello and himself.

Donatello…

His brother was terrified of him, of that Leonardo had no doubt. He'd flinched every time Leo had gotten close and his hands had constantly flicked towards his bo as they had checked over Raph in the lab. Don had been frustratingly tightlipped about what had happened yesterday, acting like he should know why Mikey and Raph disappearing together was such a major crime. Like he, Leonardo, was being deliberately obtuse about things and should know why they had completely flipped out.

He wasn't.

Something heavy smashed against the door and Leonardo knew he couldn't let this continue. Mikey was clearly upset about something but it was difficult enough to get things in their underground home.

Leo picked the lock; it took him a grand total of ten seconds.

Michelangelo swung round, hefting up his action figure trophy case at him and snarled, "GET OUT!"

"Whoa!" Leo said, holding his hands out to placate his unstable brother, "Mikey, what's wrong?"

His brother's demeanour was feverish and Leo wondered if this was a symptom of some disease they'd all come down with. "Get out Leo," Michelangelo's voice was dangerously soft.

"You are smashing your room to pieces," Leonardo pointed out reasonably. "Please, just calm down. Take a deep breath."

Michelangelo paused and glanced at the case in his hand for half a second. Then he heaved it at the wall with all his strength and the two turtles watched it explode into a shower of plastic.

Leonardo didn't say anything as he watched the debris settle. Mikey had resumed his furious pacing, his muscles tensing and relaxing as he fought to keep control of himself. It was almost like watching Raph.

Except Raph was downstairs. Unconscious. Because of something Mikey had done.

Something which had to be more than a simple fight.

"Didn't do it," Michelangelo muttered so softly under his breath that Leo almost missed his words; "Didn't do it, didn't want to do it. Can't have done it. No. Wasn't me. I must be crazy right? Would have never done it. Ever. Therefore, not me. That's the way it works, right?"

His voice broke on the last sentence and Leonardo could hear the tears in them. Leo shifted uncomfortably but didn't move closer to his agitated brother. The way Mikey was at the moment, any move on Leonardo's part would not be well received.

Michelangelo turned at last to face his brother, and Leo had never seen him looking so lost before in his life. "Leo," he choked, "Leo, I've done something terrible."

That was the only warning Leo got before his brother threw himself into Leo's arms and broke into tears. Leonardo wrapped his arms around his brother and hugged tightly. "Hey," he said softly, "Easy there."

He didn't offer empty platitudes of comfort, assurances that everything would be alright because at the moment, every instinct of his was screaming that it wouldn't be. He didn't even know what the situation was. But what he could do was hold on tight and let Mikey know that he was there.

Mikey eventually shifted back. "You don't understand," he whispered in agitation, "I can't have done it. I've never ever thought about Raph that way. Any of you that way. I don't- No, I just couldn't have done it, Leo. I couldn't. I have to be having a really, really fucked up nightmare."

"Mikey," Leo said slowly, "I don't even know what you've done."

Michelangelo went still. Then he was scrambling out of Leo's arms and glaring at him from across the room. "Thought you knew," he laughed bitterly. Madly. "Thought for a moment things were okay because you knew and you didn't care. But you're going to hate me. Once you know what, what I did. To Raphael. You're going to put a blade right through my neck," Michelangelo tapped the aforementioned part of his anatomy and he suddenly looked absolutely gleeful at this prospect. "Please. You'll do that, right?"

Leonardo felt physically ill as he stared with horrified eyes at his brother. "What-no! No, I won't! Why would you even ask me to-"

The manic energy faded from his brother and he stared at Leonardo with dull eyes. "You don't know," he said simply. "That's why you don't hate me."

Leonardo levelled a stunned gaze at his brother. This...this, what the hell was going on here? What exactly had Leonardo missed? Events were happening too quickly for him to process and Mikey was downright suicidal.

Even though every fibre of his being protested that he didn't want to know, he asked.

And Michelangelo answered.

Leonardo stared at his brother. This, this had to be a sick joke his brother was playing on him. There was no way that could have happened. No way. He knew his brothers, knew them as well as he knew himself and this was simply not possible. He felt physically ill at even the thought of it.

But his memory ever so helpfully decided to remind himself that last night they had all lost control. They had attacked each other with the intent to cause actual harm to the other. Was it too much to suppose…?

No. He violently shuddered at thought. No, it was not possible.

"I don't believe you," he said flatly, "You wouldn't. I know you and I know you can't have possibly-"

Michelangelo smiled at him.

It was an empty and unpleasant expression and that more than anything convinced Leonardo that there might be truth to his brother's words. "I think I know what I did," he said decisively. He paused a moment to let that sink in and for Leo to protest. His brother does not. "Sword now, please?"

Leonardo's face tightened and he backed away. "No Michelangelo, that's not an option-"

His brother lunged for him and Leo forced himself away. He can't let Mikey get his hands on his blades; he grabbed his brother's hands to keep them away from his weapons. They grappled with each other and crashed to the floor-

And Mikey smells strange.

His brother's scent goes straight through his brain and something about it is wrong, wrong, wrong (it smells almost a bit like Raph) and suddenly Leo is downright vicious. Everything blurs after that, the weapons on his back are forgotten as he and Michelangelo claw and bite wildly at each other. There's blood in his mouth, his brother's blood and he can't care less-

"Leonardo! Michelangelo!" a voice snapped sharply and then he is being hauled bodily of his brother and something is stuck under his nostrils-

The kick from the smelling salts brings him crashing back to awareness. He gaped dumbly at his wounded brother as Master Splinter brings Michelangelo down then flashes the container under his brother's nostrils. What-?

He stared at the blood trickling from the cuts that he had managed to inflict. Then he tasted the blood in his mouth, blood which belongs to Michelangelo and feels his stomach rebel. He is too numb to climb to his feet and rush to the toilet; instead he lets himself puke on the floor.

Leonardo stares up at his master with frightened eyes. "Father? What is wrong with us?"

The old rat dragged his children downstairs. Donatello hovered at the end of the living room, far, far away from them. He gave a start at the sight of his wounded brothers and almost took a step towards them to help then flinched back and let his hands fall uselessly at his side.

"Are you guys alright?" he asked nervously.

Mikey gave a hysterical laugh. It's the sound of someone who has completely fallen to pieces. "Oh you know, we just lost control again and tried to kill each other," he said. "Everything, everything is going absolutely wonderful. It's good to know the craziness isn't limited to just me."

Donatello bit his lip hesitantly and glanced at his father. "Michelangelo should have a shower," he said. "We should all have a shower in fact. The pheromones will keep setting us off otherwise and Mikey must be covered in Raph's. It'll make us violent with each other with that floating above our heads."

Splinter nodded with agreement. "Michelangelo, please do as your brother says."

Mikey gave an exaggerated bow in response and swaggered off quickly. Leo watched his brother's retreating shell with trepidation. "Master Splinter, you should go with him. Before we…lost control, he was going for my swords. Don't leave him alone."

His father winced and took a step after Michelangelo. "Can I trust you to keep a sensible distance between yourselves?"

Donatello flinched at the idea of being alone with his brother but didn't raise a word of protest. "Yes," Leonardo swallowed reluctantly, unsteady at how quickly things were falling apart, how little control they seemed to have over themselves. "We should be fine."

The two turtles tracked their father's progress to the bathroom then Leonardo turned his gaze to his brother. For a moment, he braced himself then decided he can't live in ignorance any longer. "Don," he said, "what is going on? What is happening to us?"

Donatello drew in on himself. "I think," he said slowly; "That we're having some sort of mating season."

Leo gazed at him with wide eyes. "Is that even possible?"

His brother gave a bitter smile and gestured to their silent home. "What else could this be? Does any of this strike you as normal? The lack of control, increased aggression to the point where we can't even think-"

"Then Mikey really-?"

"Yeah," Don said brokenly, "Yeah, he did."

Leonardo drew back. "Fuck," he said and he knew that he would never be able to find the words to accurately describe the, the utter wrongness of their situation. "But, it shouldn't be happening, right? No female mutant turtles, no point, Donnie."

Don was quiet for far too long. "Theoretically, we shouldn't," he said, grateful for this scientific discussion to keep his mind off other things. "Without the pheromones given off by a female turtle we shouldn't be behaving like this. But…"

"But?" There was always a rebuttal.

"We all fixated on Raphael. He stayed out of it, didn't get involved in the fight. And, I've been thinking, female red eared sliders are larger than males."

Leo gaped. "We would know," he protested weakly.

"Would we?" Don turned and pinned a relentless stare at his brother. "Leo, we aren't sexually dimorphic like humans. There are very few physical differences between genders."

"He sounds and behaves male," Leo insisted.

Don shook his head as he became increasingly distressed. "Male? By whose definition? Humans? Yes. Turtles are completely different organisms with a different biology. Thinking like that is the reason why we were unprepared for this, this craziness. We've been defining ourselves in human terms and we're not."

"Well, surely wouldn't Raph know?"

Donatello bit his lip and then shook his head again and turned away. "It doesn't make sense," he said with frustration. "Master Splinter at the very least would have noticed a disparity in our scents. He would have known. And I remember when we hit puberty, I definitely caught Raph engaged in…self-intimacy. There is something that I'm missing."

"Well, can't you run tests? Check if Raph has a Y chromosome?"

"Human definition," Don reminded him tersely. "Turtles don't have sex chromosomes. Gender is determined by the temperature the eggs are kept at. And I'm not doing anything to him until he wakes up."

Leonardo rubbed a hand over his beak tiredly. "This is insane," he said at last, "This can't be real. Mikey can't have-"

"It could have been anyone of us," Donatello snapped, spinning round and glaring at his brother. "Leo, no matter what you think, it could have been anyone of us. Raph and Mikey are going to need us and you cannot forget that. It could be you in Mikey's place right now. It's not his fault. It's not his-"

His emotions finally getting the better of him, Donatello burst into tears.

Leonardo could only stand helplessly at the other side of the room and watch.

Michelangelo stood in the shower, head tipped back. He might have been crying. Or it could just be the water running down his face. It is impossible to tell. Eventually, he reached out and slowly turned off the tap and then turned to his father.

"I think we're going insane," he confesses. The prospect cheers him immensely. If they are all mad, no one can judge him, right?

Master Splinter leans forward and swept his child into a tight hug. "No," he said sadly, "I am afraid you are not. This is a remnant from the creatures we were originally. Nothing more, nothing less."

Michelangelo trembled in his arms as his façade comes crumpling down at last. "I wish," he said softly, "That I was a simple turtle. It wouldn't hurt so much then."

His father tightened his grip. "I wish," Master Splinter replied gently, "That I could have prepared you for this. And that you had never known about the world and rules of humans. We have forgotten ourselves."

"Raphael is going to hate me forever," Michelangelo whispered.

Master Splinter has no reply for that.