TMNT belong to Mirage. "Bunny Brothers" belongs to me!

MEANWHILE...

Splinter had no idea how much of a head start Donatello had, or how long he had been missing. His brothers had said that he had not left the room the entire time Splinter was gone- and that had been many hours, more hours than Splinter cared to think about. He wished that he had been able to spare a few minutes to try to figure out why Donatello would do such a thing.

He knew that the remotes were broken. He knew how Donatello insisted that there should be four.

But what he could not understand was why Donatello had deemed it so important to replace the two broken ones at once- on his own- by sneaking out of the Lair, stopping on the way long enough to take a weapon and his dojo gear with him, instead of waiting for Splinter's return.

Why?

Something had to be behind this! Some sort of argument or misunderstanding or-

As he went, he tried to recall anything the others had said, but all he could think of was Michelangelo's words: "MR. Donatello must still be in his secret laboratory. He hasn't come out the entire time you was gone."

The tone of voice was surprising for Michelangelo, who never held any anger for his brothers for very long. SOMETHING had upset the youngest for him to refer to his "bestest brother" as "MR. Donatello"...

The trip to the junk yard was a long one, usually taking at least forty minutes to get there. If Donatello was confident that he could get there and return without Splinter knowing, then he must have left some time ago- in which case, he should run into him coming back.

Unless the dog got him!

The worried father, tired as he was, increased his pace, trying to keep that and other such equally horrible thoughts from his parental imagination.

He was confident that this was the direction his son took; he could faintly scent him. Donatello had passed this way some time ago. Splinter could not be sure, but the "trail" was at least several hours old according to his sensitive nose.

When I see him, I will hug him and then he is in for the spanking of his life, Splinter nodded grimly. Raphael's punishment will be nothing to the punishment of Donatello. HOW could he do this? He never has done such a thing on his own!

What happened while I was gone?

Faintly, so faintly, a ghostly echo of a quick, hollow noise wafted up the tunnel, caught by Splinter's ears. They twitched forward before he could think. Stopping, he turned them this way and that, waiting to hear more. Donatello returning? Perhaps tapping his Jo on the floor or something?

Before he could start up again, the same sound, quick and hollow and oh so faint. Splinter began his forward movement again, when the sound came a third time- only it was somehow different- cut off as it were.

If he is damaging that Jo by trying to hit rats...

He had traveled a few more yards when a new sound came echoing up the sewer, a terrifying sound that he knew too well- a cracking, crumbling sound, as if something were falling to pieces-

"Collapse!" he shouted without thinking.

He had seen such things in action! There were parts of the old systems that were eaten away by constant water damage as well as shoddy workmanship and old age. He had spent a lot of time, as the turtles grew and were allowed to venture out more and more, in locating and doing his best to barricade branches of the system that he knew were unsafe. He had warned them time and time again to never enter any tunnel or large pipe that he had NOT shown them himself!

But THIS tunnel should be sound! There should NOT be a collapse in this tunnel!

His feet splashed quickly through the runoff- the way was quicker than staying to the side, and he needed to find out where that sound had come from.

As fast as he was, it was still about fifteen minutes before he reached the tunnel that Donatello had taken. So involved was he with his determination to find Donatello, to locate that noise, that he passed the opening without stopping- and then froze, as his brain registered what his nose told him!

With a growing fear he noted that some of the boards had been pried away! Remnants of dust and debris were suspended in the air, catching his flashlight beam and reflecting it back at him in a dazzling manner.

And the scent of Donatello was strong at the entrance.

"Donatello!" he shouted into the tunnel, straining his ears, but all he heard was his own voice echoing and the settling of stone and debris.

Without another word he was into the tunnel, traveling as quickly as the litter of the past allowed him.

Around the bend in the tunnel, and a LARGE collapse barred his way!

"My son!" he shouted, going at once to pile of rock and dirt and piping that had buried his son!

But as he touched it, he realized that this was a very old collapse, and he drew a shaky breath of relief. But then, where did Donatello go? His scent was strong here, very strong. Splinter was sure he had not doubled back and gone on his way.

He played his flashlight over the barrier that prevented him from going further, puzzling all the while...

The hole in the side was just the right size for a young determined turtle to slip through.

Splinter was able to get his head and one arm through, holding the flashlight, but to try to go further threatened to bring more debris down upon himself. Frantically he waved the light around, and for a moment his mind refused to accept what the eyes were seeing: the entire floor, from just beyond this pile of rubble to about thirty feet beyond, was gone! Another pile of rubble, debris from the ceiling (he had aimed his light upwards and found more cracks in the wall and a chunk of the ceiling missing) was barely visible somewhere roughly in the center of this vast sinkhole. The floor was still dropping a piece here and there, and Splinter could hear it hit on pipes below the surface occasionally.

"AKIO!" He shouted into the gloom, needing to get in there but finding it impossible. "AKIO! Waga osanago!"

Nothing but the sound of rocks and dirt settling and the echo of his own panic.

"Donatello," he barely whispered, fighting down the overpowering despair that threatened to rob him of control.

Donatello, lying in the channel, didn't hear anything but the beating of his own heart and the rushing of the icy water. After a few minutes, he arose and, dripping wet, climbed out of the current, and took inventory.

His left kneepad was missing- he guessed in the final struggle it had fallen off or been cut off. His left leg was skinned up something fierce, but at the moment he couldn't feel it because of the icy water. But he knew that after a bit the pain would be back.

His knee looked sprained, it was swollen. His ankle was the worst- an ugly gash (still bleeding but not badly; another blessing) was present, but the ankle looked three times its normal size. Possibly broken, or just badly sprained. Either way, walking was going to be a problem.

His canvas bag was gone, but he'd held onto the flash light, and had managed to grab the Jo.

There was light in this section- the usual weak electric bulbs placed every so many yards to illuminate the way for the workers- and he hopped one footed over to the nearest, switching off the flash light to conserve the batteries.

Taking his mask from his face, he did his best to wrap the ankle as he'd been shown by Splinter during first aid lessons. It was hard, as it was still wet (like the rest of him), but he managed to make a crude yet sturdy wrap that would last until he got home.

After a moment's hesitation, he removed his other kneepad and fastened it snugly around his swollen left knee, hoping that it would do for a makeshift bandage.

By now the numbness of the cold water and his emotions had worn off, and his leg felt on fire! All the scraped areas burned as if they could imagine what it would feel like when Sensei put the medicines on them...

Sensei! Oh, MAN, he was gonna get the spanking of his life!

"Wow! And I thought Splinter hit ME hard just for goin' in his room!" he imagined Raph saying. "I'm surprised Donnie can sit at all!"

"Well, he shouldn't have left the Lair," his mean old imagination made sure he heard sanctimonious Leo's possible pronouncement. "And he took a weapon- that alone deserves a spanking. I always thought he was so smart..."

"I am smart," he sighed in "reply" to his absent brothers. "But that doesn't mean I'm not foolish. Stupid controllers!"

He had no way of judging just how long he'd been stuck there. He was pretty sure that he had left the Lair not long after Splinter... at least two hours, and he knew that he was going to have plenty of time to get to the junk yard and back again, so much time that Splinter would never know-

Don found himself sniffling- Splinter surely knew by now!

Splinter knew, for sure! And he still didn't have the controllers. And his brothers still hated him. AND he was lost, to boot! Looking around, he realized that this was not a familiar tunnel. Splinter only took them specific ways, and they had learned to recognize their locations.

This looked like every other sewer tunnel, except that Don could tell it was one he'd never been in before. Yet he knew that it would eventually connect with something leading home.

The big decision- which way?

Glancing around for some sort of visual clue, he saw the opening he had come out of on the far wall across the channel and to his left; he had moved to the right of the exit. The water was flowing away in that direction.

Think, Donnie, think!

Taking a deep breath, he decided to continue on in the direction he had come, continuing away from that tunnel and against the flow of the current.

He reasoned that this tunnel should intersect with his original one. In that one, he knew that he'd been heading towards the junk yard, and the water had been flowing with his direction. All water eventually flowed into larger junctions and then to wherever the conduits led to- treatment plants, the river or ocean.

The "short cut" he had entered had pretty much led away from his original path at about a 90˚ angle- until it had curved to the left, making it almost parallel with his starting point. In his mind he could see it like a rough drawing. This tunnel was at a 90˚ angle from the one he had left. Therefore, it must intersect with his original tunnel!

"Unless it just comes out at a major junction," he sighed, suddenly nervous. "And then what? If I don't recognize the place, or I can't find some sort of information telling me where it is, I'm still lost!"

Well, you wanted an-

"Shut up!" he yelled at his inner-Don; he was NOT in the mood for sarcasm, even from himself!

Determinedly, gripping the Jo like a walking stick, he carefully started on his journey, crossing the channel to be on the "door side" as it were, hoping against hope that he was headed in the right direction.

Splinter calmed himself. The scent of his son was strong, but he did NOT smell death!

There was a chance that Donatello had left the tunnel before the collapse.

Splinter sat back on his heels, thinking hard. Getting across the large sink hole might not be a problem; after all, he had brought a rope with a grappling hook.

But after studying the structure before him for several good minutes, he realized that it would take more than his own hands to make the passage big enough to admit himself- and even then he ran the risk of further collapse. He had no choice. He had to go back.

His mind raced with his knowledge of the sewers. He racked his brain, trying to recall what he knew of this particular juncture. Nothing came to mind, however, and he felt himself growing frustrated.

Calming down, he realized that the only thing he could logically do was to continue on his way until he reached the next intersection, then go to the right. With some luck he could work his way around to where he thought that unfortunate tunnel ended.

"Now, if only my son keeps his head about him and choses the right direction," he muttered to himself, forcing himself to believe that Donatello had indeed made it safely out of that trap and was even now trying to decide on the right direction to travel.

"Hai, Sensei," they all said, itching to go!

Splinter should have allowed Donatello to help him make the maps. He had wanted to learn, but Splinter had kept putting him off, never seeming to find the extra time to teach his son this particular skill.

"Your first new lesson will be in Cartography," Splinter promised aloud as he quickly continued on his way, believing with a father's heart that he would soon be holding his lost child.

"...and I hope Splinter spanks him a good one, and grounds him for two months, and makes him do all our chores, and give up his super secret him only laboratory!" Mikey was still ranting, even as he gathered up the plates that had held their "supper" of sandwiches. "That'll teach him to want to be a grownup and not play with me- I mean, us!"

Leo and Raph had pretty much tuned out Mikey by now. When he got into this type of mood, the best thing was to ignore him as much as possible, and then after he'd ranted a bit, distract him.

The two older brothers were now getting ready to try the distraction part. They'd worry about Don with each other and so Mikey couldn't hear, but first they had to get Mikey the indignant to shut the heck up!

"Hey, Mikey, Splinter said you can watch TV," Raph reminded him, handing him the remote. "And tonight is one of your favorite shows!"

"OOOO! 'Bunny Brothers'? Yea! I'd forgotten!" Mikey's mood switched faster than anything known to turtles, and in no time at all the set was on and Mikey was plopped in front of it on the floor, nearly blocking the view of the older brothers.

"Mission accomplished," Raph smirked behind his hand to Leo, as they settled in on the couch to watch "the wacky adventures of the mischievous Bunny Brothers, quadruplets that seemed to find trouble even when trying to be good".

Leo and Raph really did not pay attention; it was not their favorite show, but to keep Mikey from going on about Don they would put up with a half-hour of silliness.

They were fifteen minutes into the show when Leo and Raph noticed that something was not right.

Mikey was not laughing. Usually the Lair rang with the raucous noise that was known as "Mikey's Laugh". The show was not that funny, but Mikey always filled their home with his genuine mirth at the antics of the four Bunny Brothers.

But this time there wasn't so much as one chuckle. Not even one smile.

Far from it, he had suddenly shut off the TV and threw the remote control into Splinter's chair.

"Stupid dumbhead Donatello!" he shouted, sitting there, breathing hard, fists clenched.

"Mikey, what-" Raph barely said, but their youngest brother didn't give him time to finish.

"Didn't you see the show?" Mikey asked incredulously, waving at the now shut off TV. "That stupid Bunny Brother that is Don-"

"Don?" Raph asked. "What're you talkin' about?"

"Remember, we said that each Bunny Brother was one of us?"

"No, YOU said that each Bunny Brother was one of us," Leo reminded him, but Mikey was not listening.

"The Donnie one- he moved away! He moved away from his family, saying he was too 'grown up' to be a bunny anymore, he was a grown rabbit! JUST 'cause he learned how to cross the road by himself and his brothers still needed their Mama to go with them!" Mikey was close to angry tears.

"Mikey, what's that got to do with Don?" Leo asked, trying and failing to understand this emotional outburst.

"Jeeze, Leo!" Mikey couldn't believe how dumb his brother was being. "You're the one who said Donnie was a grown-up in his mind! He must think so, too! He got dressed in his gear! He took a WEAPON with him! Without asking! Like a grownup!"

"Mikey, I keep tellin' ya, Donnie ain't a grown up, Leo was wrong," Raph was becoming exasperated with his youngest brother's insistance on holding onto that image that Leo had put forth.

But Mikey was not to be placated. All he knew was his former bestest brother in the whole world had not just quit playing with him- he had LEFT him! He had left them all!

"I hate Donnie! How DARE he abandon us?" Mikey began to cry. "Stupid show! Stupid Bunny Brother! STUPID DONATELLO! I hope he NEVER comes back!"

Somewhere in the sewers, Don was finding it harder and harder to walk. He found himself resting more and more. He was so tired, and so thirsty, and he had to go to the bathroom so bad that he finally did what he hadn't done since he was a turtle tot- he relieved himself in the stream.

And he felt that he couldn't go on, he couldn't go on, he couldn't go on-

And then he was in a new tunnel- and the tunnel was yet another one he did not recognize!

He sank down and started to cry.

And then, he realized that, though it was NOT the original tunnel he had been traveling in, there was a ladder to the surface- and a sign by it that helped the sewer workers know exactly where they were- and from reading it, Don knew that if he went to the right instead of the left, he would in no time be in the junk yard!

He could still get the remote controls! He could still pull off the surprise of a lifetime! And he could find the RIGHT entrance that would lead straight back home! It would be better than trying to travel an unknown direction...

He could get the controllers...

He could still do it...

All he had to do was go to the right.