So, I love how, every time I think I won't have time to do this and then tell everyone I have no time, I actually do find time. So, yeah, still might be really sporadic, but here's the next chapter at least!

April was plagued with nightmares. She was exhausted, yet every time sleep came, it arrived like a predator ready to devour her mind. Flashbacks to Shredder looming over her, laughing cruelly at her pain, flashbacks to her suicide attempt, horrible imagined scenarios in which she found Donnie's un-mutated form dead. Each time she woke drenched in sweat.

She wanted to run to her father, but she hated the thought of waking him up. He was so physically exhausted and sore from his transformation that he deserved a sound night's sleep. Mei, Leo, Raph, and Mikey were all out on their mysterious Kraang quest. She didn't want to see Master Splinter, either. His visible grief and suffering would be too much for her to see again.

Less than a month ago, April would have run to Donnie for comfort after her night terrors. Even though his mind was gone, April still wanted to see him. She unhooked her I.V., smiling sadly as she imagined Donnie's shrill reaction to her doing so.

Softly, she walked over to the terrarium they had set up for him. She hoped that Raphael wouldn't be too upset that she and her dad had repurposed Spike's old habitat. April hated the thought of treating Donnie like a simple animal, but without his sentience it was likely that he would get lost or hurt if unsupervised.

She peered into the terrarium. The light in the lab was too dim; she couldn't see him. She shuffled over and turned on the light.

The terrarium was empty.

April nearly screamed. She frantically began looking under tables and behind things, ignoring the screaming pain in her arms. As she stood up after squatting to look under his desk, she lost her balance and landed squarely on her bottom, knocking over one of Donnie's huge tool carts. Tools spilled out everywhere. April sat on the floor, too unbalanced to do anything other than cry.

One of the doors to the lab opened, and Master Splinter walked in with an expression of alarm. "April," he said. "What is wrong?"

"Donnie's gone," she moaned.

Splinter turned to look at the empty terrarium. He held a finger to his mouth, signaling her to be quiet. His ears twitched slightly. April was shocked when she thought she saw the slightest shadow of a smile in the corner of his mouth.

Then, she realized that she heard something too—a soft scraping sound coming from the other side of the room. Splinter offered a hand to her and helped her up from the floor, and together they walked over to the source of the sound. It was a simple tool box, filled with such staples as screwdrivers, wrenches, a hammer, and one very inquisitive little turtle.

"Donnie!" April cried. She was about to step forward to pick him up, but Splinter was quicker.

Splinter's face bore an expression of sorrow mingled with fondness. "There never was a container that he could not outsmart."

"What do you mean, Sensei?"

"When they were first born—" Splinter shook his head. "Shortly after our mutation, we had very little. I used to put them in cardboard boxes instead of cribs." His voice trembled slightly, and he was quiet for a moment before he continued. "Donatello was an escape artist. I cannot even begin to tell you how many times I had to go on a frantic hunt to make certain that he had not gotten himself into trouble."

Suddenly, April's heart felt a little bit lighter. "Always too smart for his own good, I guess."

Splinter actually smiled, though moisture collected in his eyes. "He was the first of them to speak, you know."

"That doesn't surprise me." She reached out and patted the little turtle on the back.

"He actually thought that my name was 'I,'" Splinter said. His voice grew more choked. "I never used my own name; it was a logical conclusion. Even then—he was—" Splinter closed his eyes and was silent.

"A genius."

Splinter finally opened his eyes. "Yes." He turned to look at April. "There has always been something inside of this creature that gave rise to his brilliance. Even at the pet store he demonstrated a calculating intelligence.

"I refuse to believe that my son is gone."

Hope—foolish, wild hope—flooded April at the words. Splinter was right. And if the others could get the Kraang to help them, that something inside of Donnie would be re-awoken. She ran to hug Splinter; he put one arm around her, holding Donnie in his other hand.

"Please don't leave, Sensei," April whispered. "I can't sleep at all."

Splinter nodded. He pulled up a chair and April lay back down on the exam table that had become her temporary sleeping place. Mikey had smothered it with enough cushions that it actually was quite comfortable. Splinter set Donnie down on the foot of the table-bed and helped April re-attach the I.V. drip to the needle taped to her wrist.

"Mei said that I probably won't need any more fluids after tonight," April said, as Splinter put a blanket over her.

"Good," Splinter said softly. He picked up Donnie again and sat down in the chair he had brought over, placing the turtle in his lap.

"Master Splinter?"

"Yes, my child?"

"Why don't the turtles call you 'Dad?'"

Splinter was quiet for a long time. April worried that she had upset him.

"It is one of my many regrets that I did not teach them to call me 'Father.' I told Donatello that my name was Splinter, not fully realizing that they would truly be my sons. By the time that all of them were speaking, Donatello was already quite articulate and used to calling me 'Master Splinter.' The others learned it from him, and I did not wish to confuse them. Of course, once I started teaching them ninjutsu, they called me 'Sensei.' But I am their father and they are my sons. There has never been any question that this is the case."

April nodded, settling down further into the soft cushions and closing her eyes. "Tell me more, Sensei."

"When the boys were much younger, I frequently left the sewers at night to find things to improve our home. One night, sometime after Christmas, I found an unopened chemistry set in the dumpster."

April yawned. "I guess someone wasn't very happy with their present."

"Indeed. The boys were only five at the time, but I knew that at some point they would require an education. I took the chemistry set home, and Donatello's curiosity got the best of him. He had the entire kit mastered the same day, and then he begged me to find him books about the subject."

"He could already read?"

"He started reading at two."

"Sensei?"

"Yes, April?"

"Do you think that the others will really be able to find a solution to re-mutate Donnie?"

Splinter was quiet for a long time. "I do not know. But we must not despair."

The buzz of a cell phone on vibrate slowly drew Karai out of sleep. It took her a moment to figure out where the sound was coming from; she grabbed the phone on her bedside table and unlocked it. However, the phone registered no calls since the last time her father had called her. With a sigh, she looked at the contact list, if it could be called a contact list. One name looked back at her: Oroku Saki.

She allowed herself a moment of silent teenaged rebellious hatred for her father; other people her age could have phones with more than one contact—phones that weren't encrypted to prevent any unauthorized calls in and out. Miserably, she found herself wishing that they would never exterminate Splinter and the Turtles, or she would never have any reason to talk to anyone other than her father and his stinking henchman.

Better to have someone to hate than no one to love.

Immediately, she chastised herself for the thought; of course she loved Shredder, even if he was pig-headed and short-sighted. And he loved her. He didn't say it, but she knew that he did love her. The only reason he didn't show it was because he was in so much pain, because of Splinter. If Splinter hadn't ruined their lives so long ago, she would be able to experience the full warmth of a father's love, unclouded by the pain and suffering of loss.

And Shredder did love her. He had to. Fathers love their daughters. It was as simple as that, a rule as inviolable as gravity.

So why did she always feel like she was nothing more than an inconvenience?

With a sigh, she let her thoughts drift back to the dream she had been having. A soft lullaby she had never heard before, yet she still somehow recognized, danced just beyond her waking memory. She wished that she could reconstruct it, wished she could place the faces and voices that visited her while she slept. What was it about that Satou woman that had unsettled her so completely?

Suddenly, she heard three short buzzes, but the phone in her hand was still.

What is that? she thought. It sounds like a phone...

Her stomach turned a somersault. It was a phone. It was the burner phone she had managed to sneak past her father, the phone whose number she had given to Casey Jones.

Frantically, she pulled the bed away from the wall and lifted away a section of the molding at the bottom. She slipped her fingers under the small gap between the drywall and flooring and slid out the cell phone. A missed call and a text message waited for her.

Hands trembling, she opened the unread text.

Ul rly give me anything if i help u?

She drew a shaky breath. Anything, she typed back.

The moments dragged on as she breathlessly waited for a reply.

The phone buzzed in her hand. U wont like it

I do not care what it is. I will give it to you.

Meet me at that old radio station

Karai's hands shook. What do you want me to bring?

Tell u wen u get here

I will be there in 30 minutes.

K. C u

Her heart racing, Karai hurriedly dressed in her gear. She pushed the bed back as quietly as possible and silently crawled out through the window.

She was finally going to get the answers she longed for.