Donatello watched the city, drinking in the stunning sight. A red and yellow umbrella twirled under a street lamp as two ally cats ran by scrambling for food. The moment was sweet and innocent, but soon interrupted by a sharp pain in his left temple. It did not last long, but the reaction triggered a memory.

These events make us stumble, fall, and can even discourage, but in the end they shape us who we are.

His father's words echoed in his thoughts. Master Splinter meant no harm to Donatello, but that didn't mean embarrassment didn't sting him.

"The problem is I keep stumbling and falling. I can't seem to make things better," Donatello openly confessed. He stood with staff in hand and stretched, allowing his bones to crack and pop till comfort settled.

"Am I really scared of death? Why can't I just let these feelings go?" A few stars listened, but gave no desirable solution. He continued to stare into the distance, and noticed a blur of blue and orange move on the neighboring roof. He tried focusing on the movement when the piercing sounds of his shell cell rang.

He removed the vibrating device from his belt and flipped it open.

"Hello," he heard a crackling sound and then faint voices in the background, but knew the caller had to be his older brother, "Leo."

"Don, where…are…you? You.. en… gone for…'ime 'ow. Raph…'key… got here with…izza." Donatello wondered why the connection was so bad, but figured the weather was causing a disturbance in the frequency.

He sighed and took one last look at the city; his peaceful retreat would have to end, "I'm only five minutes away. I'm on the corner of 3rd and Maple. I'm standing on the building that has the Italian Restaurant on the first floor."

"n't you go..the…'unk..yard?" Leo was surprised that Donatello was so close to home.

"Yes, but just stopped here for a few. It's just a nice night." Telling a lie wasn't Donatello's nature, but it was best his brothers not know the truth.

"Can you hear me Leo? Can you understand me okay?" His brother's voice cracked and whistled through the receiver. Donatello set the call to speaker phone and rubbed his temples.

"'eah….hear…u….'ine. 'hy? Leonardo felt the nagging pinch become a thorn in his side. His little brother seemed fine, but this ache was causing anxiety to build.

"I have you on speaker phone and I can barely make out what you're saying. Let me move around and see if I can't get a better connection."

Donatello began searching for mobile service. He built the shell cells to mimic normal cell phones; they even displayed four bars ranging in different sizes. When all four bars were full that meant the phone had the best connection.

He came across a small building; a black roof sheltered its red bricks from any harsh elements. He turned the corner and found a service spot near the entrance. A small lamp was attached to the door - he leaned his staff against the door's window and placed the device under the light. Each bar was visibly fuller and he could finally understand his brother speech.

"Alright Donnie, we'll see you in a few minutes." Leo was hesitant; he didn't want to get off the phone. A few seconds passed till Leo spoke again, "Don…are you okay?"

The lonesome teenager was surprised by the question. His brother's manner was soaked with worry and responsibility. Silence spoke for them until Don replied, "Are you okay Leo? Are you upset about something?"

"Ha, how are you able to always answer a question with a question?" They both shared a laugh at Donatello's expense, but the worry and responsibility soon crept back into Leo's tone.

"Listen Don…I'm just concerned. You've been out for awhile and these storms are coming. You're out there alone and-"

"And what?! I can take care of myself Leo." At first his voice rose with frustration, but it soon vanished when rattling came from the fire escape. The black bars shifted, back and forth, as if someone was coming up.

"Don, are you still there?"

"Yes Leo, nothing's the matter." The brilliant turtle was tired – his heart felt heavy. There was exhaustion in his voice, "I'll be home in just a few minutes."

"Donnie." Leo's mouth parted, his voice took on a much softer pitch. He leaned against the kitchen door with his shoulders relaxed, "Okay - be safe."

They said their good-byes and Leo hung up. As always Donnie waited for the sound of a click and a dial tone's hum before closing his device. He smiled at his little tradition and held the phone in his hand.

A grumble of thunder roared and clouds protested the noise by spitting rain on to the city. He felt the breeze pick up and watched his staff fall to the ground. Donatello bent down to pick it up, when he heard faint shuffling behind him. He stood quickly and faced his reflection in the small window. A mist had consumed the edges making it difficult to see; he slid the back of his hand across the glass and leaned in for a closer look. The environment was heavy as only the rain's tapping could be heard ricocheting. A dark shadow moved in the corner of his eye, "What the?"

He looked to his right and saw nothing but a few strands of gold beaming from a building, "Okay, I must be really tired. I'm freaking myself out." Glancing once more into the window, his hand wiped the mist and he inhaled a sharp breath.

The turtle's eyes grew wide as they focused more and fear pricked his wet skin. Donatello had noticed a dark silhouette behind his shoulder. The shadow was actually a head wrapped in black dressing. He quickly turned around to see the image when the light bulb flickered then blew out.

Blue and silver lights made love to the sky, causing the city to glow for short periods at a time. Once again the roof was visible, but also full of foot ninja. The light show continued as the pack of ninja moved closer. They surrounded the turtle as he flawlessly drew his staff and took on a defensive stance.

"The Foot…great… that's all I need right now," he hissed. To his surprise, the Foot Ninja were not in their usual gear. In the past, the group wore a black color mask with long tails, their limbs sheltered with black and grey armor and a red symbol stitched to their chest.

These ninjas were different; they donned long black jackets with a blue metal face mask. Their eyes were large and were bursting with orange.

Don searched his mind, the images of these Foot Ninjas had left a devastating print in his memory. The turtle looked to his left only to duck before a ninja's blade hit him. He quickly swung his staff, but a military boot with blue tread came crashing at his chest. The punch caused him to fall forward and land on his plastron with a whimper. His shell cell dropped onto the concrete causing the flip to open and expose its many buttons. But Donatello did not notice, as a Foot Ninja stepped on his wrist and cocked his head to the right; he then dropped down next to the turtle. A panic filled Don's eyes, "You're not our foot….you're the Foot Gestapo! Your ruler is…is…the Shredder!"

The futuristic soldier looked to his comrades, nodded and looked back to Donatello. The turtle rose to his knees and hands as he searched for air. His chest felt sore from the hit and it was difficult to breath.

He closed his eyes letting the sweat and rain fall down his face. Everything was happening so fast – just a minute ago things were peaceful and now he was stuck in a fight for his life. How did these ninjas find him? How did they get to this time period? Were they going to kill his family, starting with him?

Don felt a wave of adrenaline course through his veins, as he took his elbow and jabbed the ninja next to him. The soldier fell back after giving Donnie one good kick to the chin. His knees buckled and he fell on the shell cell. His hand landed on the exposed numbers causing it to redial the last number.

The teenaged turtle shook off the sting, and rose to his feet with staff in hand. The warm air quickly turned cold as the frosty chill caused his breath to speak for him. Fog escaped each ninja as silence held the moment. Eyes looked at one another waiting for the other to make their move.

He counted each ninja surrounding him; he shook slightly at the number twenty. "How am I going to fight all these guys?" He whispered to himself.

As each body swayed in anticipation, the sound of thunder vibrated the roof top. Donnie stumbled at the sound causing the group to move forward in their attack.

Moments felt like extended minutes. Extended minutes felt like hours. Once the foot began their assault Donatello did not waste time in retaliating. He ran at the enemies before him, knowing they would not defend, but would come at him with their own attack. He drew his staff and faked a left then rolled to the right. He managed to escape five bodies barreling at him before a lone ninja slashed the turtle's calf with a katana. As the cut throbbed and ached, Don felt warm liquid run down his leg. Blots of red dotted his every step. But he continued to fight. He would stick a ninja then move quick; stick and move, stick and move.

It was working until he noticed how the foot ninjas' strength was growing while his was breaking down. Purple and blue spots were forming on his skin while cuts burst with blood.

The murky sky let out a hard cry as its tears made it more difficult to distinguish images. His thoughts were cluttered till a hostile voice responded, "Ahhh…The Prodigal Son….alone at last!"

Donatello's eyes grew wide and his lips parted with shock. The teenager sluggishly turned his head only to see a nightmarish figure. There stood before him the Shredder. A stature that was malicious and evil. Its body mimicked a robotic built, with metal spikes forcing their way through his arms and back. Black steel plates protected its knees, back and wrists as attached lights bloomed red.

Shock enveloped the turtle as a cry of anguish ripped through his throat, "NO! This can't be happening! It's you….but how…the exosuit…why? HOW…How are you alive?!"

"So the turtle that has all the answers can't fathom why I'm here! The turtle that once held his brothers together….and caused their DEATH…. remembers me!" His voice made Donatello's stomach weak; he felt vile travel from his intestine to his throat.

"It's time Donatello. Time for your ending," thunder yelled and a white light flashed as the Shredder pointed his finger at the terrapin, " And my beginning."

"No this isn't real…..that'll never happen!" Donatello stood with bruises tattooing each arm and leg. The wind picked up as the sky continued to sob in hard and soft patterns. Anxiety was stirring his muscles and Don's heart beats became irregular – he stood and held his staff tight. His eyes narrowed, "Ending?!"