Coma.

"Why won't he wake up?" Mikey asked, his beautiful blue eyes clouding to a distant, melancholy grey. Donatello shrugged and sighed, wrapping a warm and comforting arm around his tearful, little brother.

"I don't know Mikey, he's been like this for weeks now. I've run ever test I'm able, and I've come up with nothing. Everything comes back normal."

"But he's not normal Donny, LOOK at him!" Mikey thrust his finger in Raphael's direction. "He doesn't eat or drink, he just lies there!"

Donny nodded his head and sighed. For once he was lost and had no clue what to do, his brother just laid there, completely still, completely silent. Like he had no will, the rise and fall of his plastron the only clue he was alive.

Barely.

They watched him shift, tumble out of his hammock and shuffle his way to the kitchen. Watched him rummage in the fridge, crack open a soda, stare at it blindly, and throw it in the trash can.

He wasn't dead, Donny decided, but he wasn't truly alive either.

It was like he was lost in a coma.

Perhaps Leo could explain what was wrong.

Whenever he decided to come back home.

A/N: It's been ages since I wrote anything ... and I wonder if "Where is he?" is truly up to scratch. So I thought I'd try a few little drabbles, using a word prompter. Trying to limit each one to 200 words, trying hard to do one at least once a week, I'd like to try once a day.

What do you think?

Rant, Rave, Review. I adore constructive criticism, so give it your best shot.

If you have any ideas for drabbles PM me and I'll do my best. They have to be one word though, the more obscure the better.