"The happiest moments of my life have been the few which I have passed at home in the bosom of my family." – Thomas Jefferson

Memory loss occurs on all different fronts. But, at one time Donatello wondered if he would ever fully be able to remember more about the day he had lost his family. He still had a small external scar on top of his head from the injury; however, there was always the internal injury that was the real problem of his memory loss.

For a 13 year old, he should have been at least attempting to do something productive and fun, but instead he was schooling himself in an older medical book he had found thrown outside of one of the local libraries. While there were probably more interesting things to be reading, he just could not get his mind off his family lately.

It was one of those small depressions that would not go away, especially considering he could not fully remember the extent of the accident and even a few days after it. It was a miracle he had survived. At one point he thought he remembered seeing an alligator…but that was the same day he woke up in the sewers from the accident.

Would he ever fully be able to remember what happened?

Really, he missed his brother. Raphael was never one to express his emotions properly without taking it out on his brothers. He always expressed himself with anger mostly because that was who he was. He was not going to change that either. He wore his emotions on his 'sleeves' so to speak so that he could be himself.

It was passive in contrast to Donatello. Both Raphael and Donatello had always been vastly different from each other indeed. Donatello had been a quiet, reserved young child while he was the polar opposite of his brothers.

But, maybe that was why Raphael missed his little brother so much…

Shock had come in many different forms in Splinter's life. From the time he saw the Shredder take his beloved Master Yoshi's life to the day Michelangelo was taught how to "sewerboard" as he liked to call it, he had received plenty of shocks in his life.

(In regards to the sewerboarding, he would never get over the time his youngest son had attempted to try and skateboard on a passing subway train. To say the rat almost had a head attack that day was an understatement. If he could have, he would have liked to blame Leonardo and Raphael for encouraging him if they would have quit their bickering minutes earlier.)

However, when he had heard what he thought were his sons coming home, he was not expecting to hear Michelangelo's panicked voice.

Walking from his room, he walked quicker to see what trouble his son's had managed to get themselves into now.

He had not, however, been expecting to see the unconscious bundle that his youngest son was struggling to hold up…

"Raph, we need to get out of here! We're way over our heads!"

Whack!

"Oh really, you didn't notice that ( WHACK!) when Shredder decided to run off and send his ( thack! ) pet out to try and finish the job?"

Leo rolled his eyes and kicked Shredder's pet, Hun, away from him as the man charged forward slowly. Secretly, Leonardo could not help but think Raph's comparison of Hun was correct. Hun did act like a pet with the Shredder more than someone obeying their master's simple commands.

(Vividly, Leonardo shook his head. Now he had an image of Hun following the Shredder around with a leash and had to end up blocking another sword with his own to get rid of the mental image. Geez…thanks Raph.)

"Well, we need to get to Mikey before Shredder catches up!"

To say that the two brothers should have been focusing on getting out their predicament instead of fighting would have been a great idea. In fact, Leo would have been pleased if just one time a normal patrol out with his brothers (or even a training exercise) ever could go normal.

When Mikey had taken off with the other turtle – Leo had refused to acknowledge that it was Donatello yet – the speedy turtle had been able to get away easily. Though he knew Mikey always got annoyed getting sent away from a fight, the youngest turtle was one of the fastest of the three…er…four fighters?

"Mikey is probably already home, Raph!"

Michelangelo was able to use speed so easily when he fought with his nunchaku (which was probably why Master Splinter had the youngest turtle train in them).

(In fact, Leonardo could name several times where their sensei had said that if the youngest turtle would put more thought into his training, he could possibly best Leonardo and Raphael combined if he wanted to.)

However, lost in his concern, Leo had silently prayed to whoever may be listening that Mikey was successful in using his speed but also his stealth to get away.

A quick glance to confirm that Hun was indeed out for the count; he launched a few kicks into the nearby Foot Ninja and looked at Raphael. His hot headed brother sent a quick nod and the two ran in the other direction, taking to the roof tops instantly.

While the two brothers wanted to immediately try and get back to the lair, they knew it would be best to try and lure the Foot away if they decided they were going to follow them home. The sooner they got home, the sooner they could get some answers about what happened here.

"What do you mean you were not able to find information on the fourth turtle? I was told that they were to be monitored at all times."

To say Bishop had been a bit shocked to find out that there had been no information on the fourth turtle, Bishop had hoped there had been one detail that would have hinted at the possibility of the fourth turtle.

"Sir, we just don't have any record of a fourth turtle. However, there are some interesting reports from the NYPD…"

Bishop raised an eyebrow, "Wait, before you open those reports. Search anything in the NYPD database on any crimes committed within a ten block radius of that apartment complex, including crimes committed by the Purple Dragons within the last ten years. If possible, pull up any insurance claims filed within the last five years from residents and businesses as well."

"Agent Bishop, that alone will take forever! The Purple Dragons used to have temporary headquarters set up five blocks northeast of that residence…"

Bishop turned and frowned, as he looked away from the computer and at the man, "Then you better get started. From there, we'll focus on trying to narrow down any crimes. Something tells me there was something more than Saki simply trying to get vengeance on turtles and an elderly couple…"

"Michelangelo, what is going on?" Splinter asked his youngest son as soon as he was able to cover his shock just as quickly. The rat gestured for the youngest turtle to sit their…'guest' on the couch.

A quick glance at the mask made the rat's heart race. It was purple and Splinter could not stop his eyes from moving from the mask to a scar located above the right eye of the turtle.

Small and hardly noticeable, but one he knew would be there. It was the location of where the massive rock had hit Donatello five years ago when the sewers' had collapsed thanks to the Foot.

"We were just outside messing around in the snow and we heard screaming…then we came across him ," for once, Splinter could tell his youngest son was at a loss for words. (Michelangelo was seldom completely without something to say even if the sentences did not make any sense.)

"Master Splinter, this can't be Donnie, it can't! Can you tell if it is some trick by the Foot? I know it was bad for me to bring him here because it could be a trap but I just didn't know what to do. And then Leo and Raph decided to help hold Shredder and Hun off long enough so we-"

"Michelangelo! My son! You must calm down. We can discuss your questions later. Right now, your brother needs medical attention-"

"Master Splinter, how do you know even know that is Donni-"

"Michelangelo!" The orange banded turtle looked at his sensei. There was just something about the look on his father's face that seemed to finish the answer to his questions.

How in the shell can Master Splinter trust Donnie ? Mikey thought.

He did not dare ask why. He almost wanted to say it was…denial in his father's eyes combined with the knowing knowledge you normally see in his eyes.

"My son, you must learn to look beyond what your eyes tell you. Whatever these circumstances are, we can discuss later. Right now your brother needs help," Splinter replied watched his youngest son run to the bathroom to grab their first-aid kit.

Splinter's eyes eventually tore themselves off from the youngest turtle to the other one, currently unconscious in his couch. The rat almost did not believe if it had not been the scar that gave it away this truly was Donatello alone.

It had been his son's reappearance in his meditation and sleep over and over again but seeing Donatello, here on his couch, confirmed what the visions had been trying to tell him all along. Donatello was alive!

But yet, he could not help but wonder…why did he not see this five years earlier?

Thud!

He turned towards Michelangelo and took the first-aid kit from his son and looked back towards Donatello. His son appeared to be bruised (the young turtle had an especially bad bruise near his mouth) pretty bad.

After a few moments of accessing the injuries, he could tell the younger's jaw, thankfully, was not broken. It appeared the turtle injured the muscles in his wrist very well and the bruising on the turtle's plastron indicated the bare minimum, bruised ribs.

For the luck of everything, Donatello appeared to have been fortunate enough to walk away without any major life threatening injuries…so far.

It was only then it started to sink in…his supposedly dead son was lying on the couch!

The look on Michelangelo's seemed to be filled with so many questions. He decided then, he would wait until he had all of his sons together. It may possibly help save some explanations…

There was always something about coffee that made Raphael dislike his younger brother. Okay, so maybe he did not dislike Donnie, no…it was just that stench of coffee! For his eighth birthday, Mikey had made Donnie some coffee flavored muffins – by accidently mixing up the coffee Leonardo bought in mistake of the chocolate cake mix (that had been an interesting day).

While no one had liked the muffins, Donatello did (it also may have been the first time anyone had enjoyed Michelangelo's first attempts in cooking). In fact, from then on the younger turtle was always asking, "Hey guys, do you want some coffee? Master Splinter said I could make some so long as someone helps me drink it?"

That was when the coffee addiction had started (and the one time he recalled Donatello had gotten trouble for being so hyper and bouncing off the walls, it had made Michelangelo look like the silent type)

Raphael could vaguely remember a time where Donatello had enjoyed tea, which was often what Master Splinter had enjoyed giving them. Donnie would at times attempt to drink ice tea – Raphael remembered at one point that Donatello had been the only one to drink ice tea when his younger brother did drink it, rather than hot tea – but even then when Donatello had discovered the power of coffee because of those muffins, it had been a shock…

It was then Donatello had stopped drinking tea unless he was sick and coffee had become such an addiction. Then there was the time Mikey switched Donnie's coffee with decaf…ouch. That had been one of the rare times as kids that Donatello had ever been so angry…

However, when they went on one of their first nightly runs over the rooftops and stopped near a Starbucks, the smell of the coffee had almost made Raphael want to break down in tears. Especially Big old Raphael…

Who would have thought coffee would make someone cry?

Splinter never really did want to punish Donatello, he really did not. In fact, if he never had to punish any of his sons again, he would dance with joy in front of his sons. However, life did not work that way.

Donatello had such an inquiring mind about everything that him holding the toaster captive so he could see how it worked was crazy. It was not a brand new toaster but it had been one that looked several years older.

However, when Splinter had found the toaster in working condition and was able to use his spare bit of money to help buy his sons some good tasting foods to put in the toaster…

He had been rather shocked to see the toaster in pieces in Donatello's lap. After that, the disappointment he had felt for his son had increased. Why did Donatello insist on always trying to take things apart?

Yet, it was only when Donatello was gone did Splinter stop and think how much he would love to see Donatello take apart a toaster once more…even if it did irritate him.

When Leonardo entered the lair, he was not surprised to see Mikey and his father in the lair. In fact, he was thankful that his youngest brother had made it back home with their...guest…brother?

He frowned, trying to swallow a wall of emotions that he had never truly been able to heal from in the beginning. His mind flashed back quickly to his fear of heights and seeing Donatello's face…

He shivered and put the memory away…for now. He knew it would nag at him when his mind wasn't on more important issues.

The eldest turtle could not help but see that their 'guest' – he did not allow himself to say brother because all he knew this could even have been an attack on their mediation or something as a way for someone to play a cruel joke on them – was resting on their couch, still unconscious.

However, when Leonardo saw both Michelangelo and Master Splinter watching their 'guest' it made him wonder if his mind was not letting him see what his heart already saw.

In the corner, Raphael stood leaning against the wall, arms crossed as he eyed Splinter and Mikey hovering over their 'guest.' His face was in a downward snarl, meaning something was bothering the second oldest brother. Leo could not, for the first time, feel Raphael's emotions.

He stood back where he was, keeping a watchful eye as two tended to the wounds that the turtle had been upon. However, there was one nagging thought that did not leave his mind. He could recall their 'guest' having a bo…

Consciousness always seemed to be unwelcomed for him. If it was possible to simply sleep the rest of his life for all the pain in his short life, he would. He had a pounding headache, he noticed.

Vaguely, Donatello could remember heading to the Akira's house, fully clothed (as not to attract much attention to a tall walking mutant turtle even with his bo). Then there were humans dressed in black…blood curdling screams…

Pain exploded in his heart and he slowly, achingly moved a hand to slowly rub the pain. It felt like a constant burn, one that he thought healed back when he had lost his family…or did it ever fully heal?

However, the pain was even more present now when he remembered the bodies of Akira and Sorano…their blood in the snow.

To his surprise though, Donatello felt his arm underneath a blanket as he moved his hand in a soothing motion over his heart. More concerned about the sudden arrival of the blanket and wondering why he wasn't dead, the turtle quickly tried to force open his eyes.

One eye hurt and he could barely open it. He was surprised the eye had not swollen shut. Though, if he did not figure out where he was, it would not matter if he could see out his eye properly or not. He tried to crane his head around, trying to get a vague idea where he was. It was hard because when he moved, his sore body protested the slightest movements.

From first glance, he could tell he was in the sewers (the stench was a possible dead giveaway) but the familiarity of the concrete and bricks gave it away. He noticed he was in a room that had furniture and he was lying down on a bed (a better bed than the one he had in his own place). The place was decorated in various Japanese decorations and if Donatello could guess right, he would think his father had decorated the room.

'No, quit thinking such thoughts,' he thought. He rubbed his hand over his heart in a soothing motion once again.

His mind quickly dashed off the décor when memory of his late father's teachings came to mind, " Do not let yourself be seen by the world above. "

Yet, technically he was not on the surface level of New York and clearly in the sewers, that teaching quickly came to mind. He slowly started to move the blanket off of his body as he struggled to gain some strength in his body. His body protested the entire movement and as soon as he began to stand, he felt dizzy.

Fearing he would meet the floor, he was rather surprised when a set of arms grabbed him on his tumble down to the ground.

Looking up, he was greeted by a very familiar face.

"Master Splinter?!"

Meanwhile, in the living room, three turtles waited for their sensei and father to come from the room. After tending to Donatello's wounds (which Leo had been adamant that this was probably a cruel trick being played on them by the Foot, to which almost caused Raphael to punch the eldest turtle).

"Are you sure we should be leaving Master Splinter alone in there, Leo? I mean, with that being Donn-"

Mikey was the first to the silence that had been surrounding the three brothers. The quietness had been uncomfortable since they had placed the turtle in their father's room to rest.

"Sensei can take care of himself, Mikey," Raph interrupted, keeping a watchful eye on Leonardo who never responded after several minutes.

"True…"

Splinter had taken to simply sitting in a chair, watching as Donatello slowly looked around the room. His son's movements were slow and painful, he noted. The way he moved though, resembled his son's personality.

The rat knew the moment when Michelangelo had brought the turtle into the entrance of their home that it was his son. Yet, as hours had passed and he had thanked any deity that was listening for bringing his 'dead' son home, he realized that there were many questions forming in his mind.

How had Donatello survived the fall? Even more importantly, where had the turtle been the last five, long heartbreaking years?

He had decided to remain in the shadows as he allowed Donatello to look around the room and gain awareness, as he did not want to startle the scared turtle (which was easily spotted by the look on his son's face).

It was when Donatello had taken movements to move and started to fall forward did the rat make his presence known. He did not want to see further injury come upon his son. To hear Donatello's voice say his name almost started to shatter his broken heart once more. The turtle's voice had sounded intelligent, young, fearful, and yet so different from the one he had memories of.

"My son…you must not move yet. You must allow your wounds time to heal…"

Apparently, that response was not what the turtle was expecting.

"I'm dreaming…I'm dreaming. Those guys must have done more damage to my head than I thought. Maybe if I'll close my eyes…"

And to Splinter's surprise, Donatello did that. However, they were only closed mere milliseconds before they opened once more, as the genius turtle stared at the rat. His loving father.

The one who Donatello dreamed about secretly pleasing had lived alone all those years. The father who he dreamed about giving him tea when he had been sick.

"No, my son, my Donatello, you are not dreaming."

Gently, Splinter placed a paw on his son's shoulders. From behind his mask, Donatello's eyes began to water and even from behind the mask; the tears were already falling down his face.

With a sudden movement, the rat quickly embraced his son who had started to cry, murmuring in comprehensible things as the rat talked and whispered to him calmly...