A/N Thanks to all the comments! It's lovely to read them all after a long day of work! I LOVE THEM ALL!

A few days passed. Raphael and Leonardo had refused to talk to him. Donatello spent most of his time in his new lab, working on the serum that was making him want to tear his non-existent hair out. Meanwhile, Mikey spent most of his time around his long-lost brother and going out of his way to find things for Don's room. A mattress was squished up against the wall, and Mikey had gathered half of his pillows and blankets to make sure his brother was warm and comfortable. It didn't mean the two didn't spend nights in Mikey's room, falling asleep after hours of talking or VHS tape marathons.

Donatello had developed a relationship with Mike that he'd never had before. One that surpassed their bond even before he had left to work with the enemy. He now longer became annoyed with Mikey's antics or his loud-mouthed behavior. He found himself laughing more at his jokes, and listening to his long-winded ramblings without a scowl or disinterest. In turn, Mikey had matured. He was more attentive and could listen without his interest trailing elsewhere. He could take hints when Don was becoming frustrated or needed to work through an experiment on his own.

Splinter too was more open. More fatherly than he had been. He often brought Donatello food and would tell his son about his soap operas. Don would listen and ask questions, despite having no interest whatsoever, because he had grown to crave company. Silent or not, Don's nerves felt less frayed when either of the two were nearby. Still...

Splinter had given him a few days to rejoin training. Don had been working on Mikey's blood sample the day he was suppose to and threw a fit when his equipment didn't work. It seemed sitting in the dust had left his tools inoperative, despite appearing perfectly fine. He had yelled at Splinter then, bursting like a child and demanding he be allowed to work at the old lair - alone, in the dark, with all the equipment he needed. Splinter had taken several moments to calm him down and had Don write down everything he needed to be replaced.

He supposed his frustration had just bubbled over. He hadn't done anything but stand at the flimsy table top and work, stiff and unmoving for hours on end. His legs were aching for a rooftop run, but that was out of the question. Splinter wouldn't dare let him top side for a long time. So his next best option was to finally take Splinter up on his invitation and train. The idea terrified him. Leo and Raph would be there. They'd be forced to share a room with him. Still, Mikey and Splinter would be there as well... So the next day, when he walked into the cold lab and found his insides twisting with unease and irritability, he grabbed his bo staff up against the wall and padded slowly to the dojo. He could hear the tell-tale hiss of metal against metal and flesh against flesh. He peeked into the dojo, staying close to the shadows, to find his family just beginning their morning spars.

Leo and Raph were paired together, Mikey sitting off to the sit sitting back on his palms and watching the fight. Leo had just sent one of Raph's sais flying out of his grip and now the two were sweating heavily and struggling to get the upper hand. The slic of the katanas ripped through the air and Raph flew back onto his shell. He grunted and maoned as he sat up, giving Leo a hard glare.

"Cheap shot, Fearless."

Leo, though breathing heavily, sheathed his swords and smiled faintly. "Next time, try not the rush things. You're only making it easier to break through your defenses."

Splinter nodded from his place at the head of the mat. "But your kicks have improved greatly from last week's session," he added. "Good job, Raphael, Leonardo. I see how hard both of you are working."

But Raphael wasn't listening. He had seen Donnie peeking around the corner, and his golden eyes flashed darkly. He snorted, picked himself up and jabbed a thumb in his direction.

"We got ourselves a peeping tom."

"Huh?" Leo caught Don's gaze and he quickly looked away, but Splinter smiled warmly and Mikey jumped to his feet with a grin of his own.

"Hey, dude! Finally, you decided to join in!"

"Yes, I was hoping we'd see you soon, my son. Come, we were just having some light sparring sessions."

Raph was glaring a hole in his head. He and Leo stayed well away while he found a spot next to Mikey, his brother tugging on his arm and reaching out to look at his staff. "Oh man, I haven't seen you use this thing in forever! We're gonna kick some serious ass now that you're back."

"Language, Michelangelo," Splinter warned.

He smiled sheepishly. "Ah, I mean, we're gonna kick some serious butt, yeah, butt. You can pair up with me, D!"

"Naw, I have a better idea," Raph interjected. "How about he takes me on? You know, for old times sake." The bite in his tone set Don's teeth on edge. His sais twirled through his fingers. "Wadda' say, Donnie Boy?"

Splinter was going to say something. Don might have let him call it off, judging by the way he shot Don an understanding look, but then the word 'weak' flashed back through his mind. His grip tightened on his staff and he leveled him with a glare of his own.

"Okay. Yeah, for old time's sake." His voice sounded a lot stronger than he felt and Raph raised a brow in slight surprise. Then he grinned, stepping onto the mat.

"Come on then, I ain't got all day."

Splinter did not intervene. He merely stepped back and waited for Don to take his place across from his brother. He rose a hand and called for the match to start. Don wasn't use to his bo staff. Over a year of using the kamas had left him floundering as Raph executed the first blow. The wood vibrated in his hands. His wrists hurt and he readjusted his grip, stepping back and dodging a kick, releasing a sharp jab into Raph's side. Satisfaction bloomed in his chest when his brother stumbled back and he took a moment to regain his balance and prepare for the offensive. And just as he assume, Raph was pissed about the hit and charged him aggressively, forcing Don to take several more steps back along the mat.

He was going to lose. He knew that, as he went through the motions and ducked another blow. But to be able to fight back felt good. The Shredder's training had always been used as punishment. One against three, or one against five. Whether it was against the elite, Hun, some lowly Foot ninja or Bebop and Rocksteady, Don had always been given the disadvantage. He had a fighting chance, and grabbed onto it, swinging his bo up and catching Raph on the side of his head. There was a clunk, a spark of rage in his gold eyes, and Don felt his heart suddenly clench. He froze. He was back on the rooftop, metal catching at his throat, that anger turning into pure contempt for his being. And then he was sprawled outside the mat, his own face burning and his head spinning. He sat up quickly, vision a bit blurry, to see Raph standing over him with a pleased smirk.

"Hmp," he tutted. "Thought The Shredder would have taught you better than that."

"Raphael," Splinter warned.

"It's fine," Don said, picking himself up. He reached for his bo, checking for any cracks in the wood. "It felt nice to use this again, actually."

"Alright, D! Way better than those blade-thingies you had!" Mikey bounded up behind him. "You look way cooler using the staff, too."

"Yes," Leonardo spoke up, and Don was startled when he said, "It was nice to see you wield your bo staff again, Donatello."

"Uh, t-thanks," he stuttered. He clutched his weapon his his chest, rolling it between his fingers to keep his attention on anything but himself. "Uh... so, who's next?"

"Michelangelo. Leonardo." Splinter took the hint and ordered the two turtles up to the mat.

Don took his seat out of the ring, criss-cross on the floor, well aware of Raph's presence from his place at the wall. He wasn't sure this was a good idea anymore. Sure, if was nice to use his staff again, but he didn't want to fight his brothers. Seeing Raph come at him had been too much to process. He felt like he was dressed back up in the Foot garbs.

Before the next match ended, he snuck back to his lab to continue his work.