A/n: Well guys, it's been fun! Yup, this is the last chapter of Send in the Clowns. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, because I had a total blast.

To everyone who has reviewed, I can't thank you enough. You guys have praised me and pushed me (in a good way!). Just the knowledge that something I have written can reach out and speak to people is incredibly rewarding, and such a huge motivator.

To whoever nominated me in the fanfic comp – thankyou so much, you made my day! :D

And to the TMNT world in general - thanks for being the best fandom ever!

Epilogue – Reclamation

.:..:.

"Hey Raph, c'mere. I want to show you something."

Raphael poked his head around the corner of Don's computer nook, and his brother motioned for him to come closer. "I think you'll want to read this," he said, standing and offering Raph his seat in front of the screen.

Don moved away, giving him some space as Raph sat down and began to read. He started aimlessly tinkering with some wiring on one of his spare computer towers, in an effort to reassure his brother that he wasn't being watched. It had always made Raph uncomfortable, to have someone watching him while he read – a throwback to their old schooling days, perhaps.

Don had found the article in a quick browse of the major news websites that morning. As he'd expected, it wasn't exactly headline news. Just a short piece reporting that the previous morning, police had received an anonymous tip-off and busted an illegal animal ring, arresting the owner and several other men and women involved in its activities. The authorities had confiscated the animals and contacted the relevant wildlife organisations, who would re-release the creatures back into the wild as soon as they were in a stable condition. The ringleader of the underground business was facing multiple charges and a jail sentence of at least several years.

Mulling over this information in his mind, Donatello glanced at Raph every now and then as he read, and watched as his posture slowly stiffened and he sat up straighter in the chair. When he reached the end of the article, he leaned back and expelled a deep breath.

"Good," he snarled, with an intense flash of anger. "Let him see what it feels like…"

The sentence didn't sound finished, but it seemed to fall away from him along with the last traces of vindictiveness, and without saying another word he rose and walked from the room almost calmly, with a sense of purpose in his movements that had been absent for a long time.

Don let him go. He thought that he could fill in the blanks.

Let him see what it feels like to live inside a cage.

He was suddenly, fiercely glad that they'd left Darmonaz to this fate.

.:..:.

He ran with anger, at first. Pounding the pavement, trying to channel the pain that he'd been forced to feel into the unyielding concrete, pumping his fury out with his muscles. Christ, it felt good to move. He didn't think he'd ever run this fast before. The wind tore at his throat as he breathed.

He ran as an animal must run – on instinct, pushing for nothing but speed – and he didn't care. There was nothing wrong with his animal side. It was his damn human side, the part that got bitter and jealous and lonely, that he had to watch out for. One day, he mused, (and perhaps he was catching a glimpse of the future, here), human and animal would be balanced in him. For now, he ran.

He couldn't pinpoint exactly when it happened. But there was a moment when he realised that he was no longer running in anger. He was reclaiming the rooftops, his turf, his concrete jungle. All of this belonged to him, and he belonged to it. No freak with a taser and some needles was gonna convince him otherwise. He wouldn't let himself be defined by something that had been done to him.

Was it freedom from himself, or just the freedom to be himself? Raphael could not answer, and thought that it did not matter much either way. It was freedom.

This unexpected elation would not be permanent, of course. Nothing was permanent. There would still be nightmares and there would still be mistakes, moments where his anger would get the better of him and he would lash out in ways that he didn't mean, hurt people he didn't want to hurt. But he was taking ownership of that now, and he trusted his brothers to help him. Now all he had to work on was accepting their help, but he could do that, in time. Right now he felt that he could do anything, in time. Right now, with the night air rushing past, he was invincible.

.:..:.

Somewhere on the Ganges River, India.

It is dusk, and the rumble of the truck engine has finally stilled. The tiger with amber eyes steps cautiously from its container, hearing and disregarding the babble of human voices coming from nearby. They are not close enough to threaten, and the tiger can smell rain and damp earth and all the aromas of the forest. It has not forgotten the scent of home.

It takes a few more steps, coming out of its enclosure completely. The human voices subside into an expectant silence. The tiger raises its nose and sniffs at the air, a soft, contented growl rumbling in the back of its throat.

It stands poised for a second, as if waiting.

And then it runs.

The dark shape of it flows across the land, and soon it melts away and is lost in the greater darkness of the jungle and the deepening night.

.:..:.

.

The End.