Who cares if one more light goes out?

In a sky of a million stars

It flickers, flickers

***

"Rockwell."

Already regretting several well-executed choices, Rockwell turns. 

Leonardo approaches them, even strides, looking from him to his fellow traveler. "Leatherhead. Hi."

"Leonardo." Leatherhead rumbles gently. "How are you?"

"I'm fine." It's an obvious lie. Rockwell can feel the full force of the pain even from a few feet away. It makes him want to punch something or bawl his eyes out, which would be incredibly unproductive as well as wildly embarrassing.

He puts a barrier up between them as Leonardo points over his shoulder with the mutant turtle equivalent of a thumb. "Mikey's in the dojo. He's... Before the alter. I can go get him?"

"No need." Leatherhead trains his sights on the paper walls between him and the turtle that he is so inexplicably fond of. "I will go to him."

Leonardo nods, in gratitude or understanding, Rockwell isn't sure. He's not willing to open the mental barrier to find out. The leader of the turtle group turns to him as his companion leaves. 

"Mona said that you guys found Slash?"

"Yes." Rockwell assures as he looks about the mess that was a home. "The police are trying to discover how a portion of the trees in the Greenbelt have been reduced to firewood, but the chances of them tracking it to a mutant turtle living in their city is minimal. It is... others who may be searching that I am concerned about." 

Leonardo nods again, solemn as the scientist assures, "I am watching the feeds."

He reluctantly faces him. "But you did not have me come all the way here to hear about our abysmal state."

"Right. Well," Leonardo looks towards the lab and then back to him. "Donnie has been locked up for the last few days. We're having... Difficulty getting him to sleep and eat. He's caught up in his... Research. He believes Raph is alive."

"So I've heard." Rockwell states. "What could I possibly do about it?"

"Talk science? Or logic?" Leonardo pleads. "Get him to come around? I was hoping he would be more agreeable if I let him do what he wanted, but it's backfiring. You guys are both scientists. He never doesn't listen to science. Maybe he'll listen to someone on his level?"

"I am far over his level." Rockwell dismisses. Leonardo doesn't relent. "So maybe you can reach him better than we can. Use your- your big words to convince him that he's just dealing with grief. Describe brain waves or chemicals or- anything."

"Leonardo, I'm not a trained therapist."

"I know." His shoulders slump, one hand twisting over the other. "I was just... I was hoping... At the very least, you could remind him that he needs to eat?"

Leonardo carries a mantle of maturity and leadership so effectively that Rockwell often forgets that, in many senses, he is only a child. He can see it now, in his desperation to seeking understanding from an adult. He doesn't need his powers to know that the boy fears for his brother. It's tiring, really, to be this intelligent.

The last thing that he wants is to be stuck here while the family is caught up in mourning, emotional state barely held together, but he's not much safer back with the team.

With Slash's return, he's actually become quite physically and emotionally unsafe. 

"Very well." He strides forward, pizza box tossed from his path with no one laying a hand on it, heading for the lab. "I will entertain this. But don't expect any sudden changes of heart."

"Thank you, Rockwell, seriously." Leonardo hurries after him. "It means a lot."

Rockwell opens metal doors, completely deadpan. "Oh dear."

The lab is in disarray, papers on the floor and rock music blaring from a speaker. There's a large map on the wall, some kind of hologram from a projector. Leo doesn't remember Donnie having one before, but he did have a lot of time on his hands before... Everything.

Leo looks guiltily at Rockwell as he gives the room a dispassionate once-over, hoping that it doesn't lead to negative commentary. The last thing Donnie'll be responsive to is criticism. Rockwell would normally be the last person that he'd consider inviting when dealing with an Donnie, but Donnie hates him, and he's running out of people to ask.

Donnie has sent everyone else out with a death wish within ten minutes of entering. 

He threatened to convince Kirby of a fax Kraang invasion if they dared send him.

He wouldn't even let April in. 

Leo walks over to the boombox to turn in down. He watches it a moment, palm over the exterior, now cognizant of where the missing object from Raph's room had gone. Oh, Donnie...

He exhales. "Donatello?" 

"Don't talk to me." 

His younger brother rolls up a small piece of ducktape and presses the notepaper onto it, striding from his desk to slap it on the map. Leo moves over to it as Donnie grabs the stack of papers from his desk, flipping through them and then writing something down. Next to the map is a bunch of faces that Leo doesn't recognize. He takes in the humans, some in lab coats and some posing with families, and looks over his shoulder as Donnie walks up. 

He has the pen in his mouth now, papers pinched between his fingers as he reads them.  He releases them to draw an X over an image of a woman in a nice dress with a baby in her arms. The name underneath is scrawled in Donnie's way-too-deep-in-a-project handwriting.

Leo stares at him. Donnie supplies, "Vacation with the family." 

The leader blinks, turning to look at them, and then Donnie is across the room, circling his desk to sit at his laptop. He types on the keys and the eldest turtle gives Rockwell a tired look.

The ape is busy looking over the map. "You've crossed out all the workers from the warehouse."

"Yeah, I figured they're too low on a pay grade to be the ones coordinating with the mafia. Plus, none of them would be able to get away with trading weapons without someone higher up catching on." Donnie glances up curiously. "How did you know that?"

"I've done my research." Rockwell states. "Did you ever consider that one of them might have connections to your brother's captor?"

Leo cringes in the background, anxiety climbing from his chest and into his throat. Couldn't there be just one conversation that doesn't offer painful reminders of their loss? 

"It's possible, but there wouldn't be much way to prove it." Donnie admits as he gets to his feet. 

Leo hates it; how the topic doesn't phase him. How hard he must be fighting to live in a world where he doesn't have to face that. It's going to kill him when the truth hits.

That's the only reason that Leo keeps his mouth shut, unable to prevent the glare that goes in Rockwell's direction as he entertains his poor brother. The leader lets himself become a background spectator, even as he fights the urge to leave them to their conversation. 

Donnie is trying to find proof that Raphael is alive. To do that, he needs to find the person that took him away. That's something Leo needs to know, as much as the topic aches, as sure as he needs to breathe. 

His little brother heads over to Rockwell, pointing to the location of the suspected company. "My biggest lead is that the mafia had a connection that went straight into Bio-Tech servers. Or, at least, to a remote server with their files. I doubt someone that low on the totem pole would have access to that kinda data." He looks at the ape. "The documents that I managed to snag are mainly composed of mutagen. As the reigning expert..."

"Oh, please."

"As the life form with the most experience altering mutagen." Donnie corrects with a shrug. "I feel confident enough to say that they... Don't look quite right."

"Elaborate." 

"I'm not sure. I'm familiar with a lot of the components, but the chemistry doesn't fit. Here, let me show you-"

Donnie heads to his desk and types into his computer. The ape follows his lead. Leo sighs, crossing his arms uncomfortably and looking towards the map. 

It's obvious that his younger brother is putting a lot of thought into his investigation. He studies the faces, wondering which of the innocent smiles belong to the villain that might have snatched his brother, or took part in tormenting him. Heat builds as he steps forward, ignoring the ones with the X's, training his attention on any clear faces who look like a brother-killing Mutant Hunter. His eyes fall on the lab coats, contemplating the twins use of the word Doc.

The light from the projector outlines the leader, a large shadow leering next to the Bio-Tech building. 

He wonders if he'd hesitate, his father's teachings leading his steps, when the monster that took his brother away enters in his path. 

He contemplates what it would be like to have remorse for a life like that taken, when he's freeing the world from someone who couldn't care less about its inhabitants. He thinks there was a time when he did care, back when he felt invincible and the world was his playground. When every mission was an adventure and he didn't know the pain of loss. 

He doesn't remember what that must have felt like. He just knows that he can't risk letting this kind of evil fester into something that they can't handle. 

His brothers will never have to deal with another Shredder as long as he lives.

Or, what's left of them.

The ache returns. His chest squeezes, like his fingers into fists. 

He exhales, but the weight remains.

How can he promise something like that, when he'll never be able to see the new threats coming? How can he protect them from a danger that has no name?

"-don't need you to finish my thoughts for me. I know what I'm thinking, Rockwell."

"Your mind is so disjointed it's a wonder you can make out anything at all."

"Then get out of my head and both of us will be much happier."

Leo looks over to the nerds as Donnie pushes his chair away from the ape, picking up his papers. He looks mildly irritated, but that's basically the equivalent to him being in a good mood recently. "You know I'm right. If I remember correctly, you said it yourself."

"Which means I reached the conclusion first."

"I was unconscious."

The only mutant in the room who understands zip about anything involving chemical equations clears his throat, reminding the scientists that he still exists. Neither of them look up. Rockwell, because he has no common decency, and Donnie, because he's probably still convince Leo exists solely to ruin his life.

He doesn't. He only wants him to move past this.

Why does he always have to be the bad guy?

"Donnie?"

"This is going to be the- what-" Donnie tilts his head at the papers, briefly considering. "-eleventh time I'm kicking you out today?"

His smile falters, but only for a moment. "I'm not trying to upset you-"

"-doing a miserable job of tha-"

"-was just hoping we could talk? About a few things?" He presses, looking to the mutant that's supposed to be on his side. "Right Rockwell?"

"I get the general feelings he does not wish to exchange pleasantries." Rockwell comments unhelpfully. Leo kind of wants to throw a stapler at him. No, not kind of. He does. 

How convenient. There's one right in his reach. 

"Perhaps a subtle exit would be in both of your best interests before anarchy breaks loose in this abominable excuse of a lab."

Donnie raises an eye ridge, thumbing his papers. "See, you had me at first..."

"It's not my fault you function in a junk heap." 

"This is why we're not friends."

"I would never dream of implying we were."

"Guys." Leo interjects dryly. "Can either of you just hear me out?" It occurs to the leader that he doesn't actually care what Rockwell does with his time. "Preferably the turtle who tried to throw an unstable tranquilizer dart at me?"

"I should not have to kick anyone out of my lab multiple times in a period of a few hours." Donnie remarks objectively. "Locking the door is not an invitation to whip out the lock picks."

"You weren't answering your t-phone."

"Isn't breaking and entering a crime, Rockwell?"

"Do not involve me in your spiteful rhetorical queries."

Leo pinches between his eyes. "One meal. Or a nap! All I'm asking."

"I prefer to avoid the risk of getting food on my keyboard."

"You have been alive for too long to not understand the concept of eating over a plate."

"Rockwell, tell Leo I'm not talking to him."

"We both know you're already addressing him. Might as well ask the wall."

Donnie sets his legs on his desk and crosses them, aware that this was a habit that Leo had practically begged him to break because it looked disrespectful. They had been fourteen, but by the way his eyes twitches, Donnie's pleasantly reminded that his standards haven't changed. "Hey, wall. Tell Leo I want him out of my lab."

"Real mature." Leo snaps. "Is this how you treat Mikey too, or am I just lucky?"

Donnie feigns an acute interest in his papers. Leo's voice darkens. "Donatello, if you are hurting your brother after everything he's been through-"

"It's really annoying when people decide to start shouting when you're in the middle of a project, isn't it, Rockwell?" Donnie looks over his papers to meet the gaze of an unamused scientist. "You'd think I'd be used to it by now, but certain brothers still manage to be whiny pests, even when I'm doing exactly what they want."  He steels his voice. "I suppose it's always the insignificant things that get to you."

Out of the corner of his eyes, Leo's face flushes, tears pricking his eyes. Donnie refuses to let any sign of the guilt gnawing at his gut show on his face; the perfect picture of bored as Leo's arms rise and fall. One hand finds his forehead as he releases a shaky breath. "I can't do this. I can't-"

He makes a soft sound, frustrated and helpless, and then he's heading out of the room, slamming the door behind him. 

Donnie takes his feet off his desk and drops the papers, burying his face in his hands. 

There's the sound of clicking. "Even I feel that was a bit harsh."

"Raph always said I could be mean when I wanted to be. He... Kinda seemed like he prefer it when we were out each other's throats, actually." Donnie breathes out, aware that Rockwell can probably sense every ugly thought. His eyes burn. He tells himself he needs sleep. But not now. Later. "It was the only way to get him out. I can't even look at him. Not when..."

A million thoughts tangle and mesh in a chaotic whirl of memories and fear and fury. He can barely pick them apart with the way they entwine as one, flourishing with new content and dragging up the old worries that are better left unheeded and unspoken.

"You think he's delusional."

His head shoots up, meeting the wide eyes of the mutant. He can't speak, panic lacing everything more intensely that he can process, and Rockwell presses, "Why?"

Donnie knows why, and before he can stop his train of thought, the mutant does too. "Conversing with himself? Attacking thin air- Donatello, that's reason for concern."

"You don't think I know-" Donnie shakes his head, doubling back from a road that he hasn't been willing to go down. "No, stop, I'm not getting into this. We're not talking about this. I'm not thinking about this; I'm thinking about Raph and I-"

"Donatello, if he has been like this for weeks-"

He stands, hands slamming the desk. "DROP IT."

The ape stares at him. He deflates back into his chair, lacking the energy to properly emote or attempt to continue the conversation. He stares at the floor, hating himself for his inability to keep his thoughts in check.  "Don't... Tell, anyone. Please."

Rockwell doesn't respond. Donnie wants the floor to swallow him. He didn't intend to have those strands of thought or realize it was loud enough for the ape to hear. The last thing he wants is to spill Leo's dirty laundry when his older brother hasn't even worked up the courage to talk to them about his hallucinations. This is definitely not the time.

"He may have a point about malnourishment."

Donnie ignores the jab, grateful for the change in topic. "It doesn't matter. None of it matters. He'll forgive me. Or he won't. I don't care. As long as I bring Raph home." He rubs at his eyes, glancing over to his companion as Rockwell triumphantly announces, "As I thought. Conservationist. There's no way he has the stomach for kidnapping one who is both human and animal."

Donnie stares at the laptop that he did not unlock for the invasive ape, studying the screen miserably. He looks over at the wall as a large red X is made with a seemingly floating pen. He frowns, "What are you doing here, Rockwell?"

"Using my wide intelligence to instruct one of lesser intellect."

"No." Donnie leans back in his seat, defeated by reality. "Leo brought you here for some alternative motive. Why are you here? To get into my head? Force me to believe my brother is dead?"

"I am not your brother's lapdog." Rockwell eyes him in disgust as the pen caps itself. "I am here because Leatherhead feels I need to be. Apparently assisting you assists Slash's recovery. I don't understand the logic, but emotions aren't my specialty. I trust him to be more experienced in that field."

"Oh, yeah... I- I heard about-" 

"I have no need for more condolences." He scoffs. "I do, however, have answers for you."

Donnie looks at his skeptically. "Define answers." 

"I have been doing my own research into Raphael's disappearance. Interestingly, when I went to erase any footage that may have been caught by the Bio-tech building after Mona described your little incident on a nearby rooftop..." The marker taps the desk. "There was nothing. Everything from that hour was gone. Someone did not want it seen. Did you know that the warehouse from your ambush was sold recently?"

Donnie lowers his hand, alert and scrambling to keep up. "You were-? It was-? It what!?"

"Yes. All staff has been scattered or laid off as of this morning." Rockwell goes back over to the wall of pictures and points to a man. "The warehouse manager sent a report the afternoon after Raphael's kidnapping, and the next day, he was found dead in his apartment. Any trace of the document has been erased. It's news someone intended to have buried."

Rockwell pulls him off the wall and crumbles the image. Donnie stares at him before shaking the confusion off. "Okay. So someone's covering their tracks. It could be-"

"An inside job? Very likely. It's more than obvious that whoever erased the document got rid of its creator. They did not want it to be received or read by anyone else." 

"Would that make it-" 

"A team effort would be logical. One man can't keep a proper eye on everything at once. A spread of men within the interior could keep an eye on multiple factions." 

"Yeesh. Sounds like Victor needs better hires."

Rockwell stares at him. "You mean Victor Ferrall. And he's not a suspect." 

"I ruled him out a while ago." Donnie stands and walks over. "White male. Thirty-four years old. No kids, no family- parents died when he was a teenager. He inherited the company before he even got out of highschool. All that responsibility on top of a heavy loss... It's actually pretty sad. Anyway. I can't find any dirt on him. The guy's immaculate." 

Donnie pulls up a muted video and they watch him interact with a tour group passing through his building. The man is all smiles and handshakes, leaning down to a little girl's level with a laugh to offer a button with his logo. "Charity donations, homeless assistance, ASD and immigrant funding, great with kids- he sets up an excellent cover image for anyone who wants to use his company for offhanded dealings with the mafia. I've been going through all his staff for the New York institution and I have a few leads."

"Hmm." 

Donnie looks over at the ape. "Problem?"

It surprises him when there's no immediate answer. Then, he states, "You haven't crossed him out yet. And you don't intend to." 

Donnie looks at his picture, considering. "No. I guess I don't."

"Why?"

"You're in my head. You tell me."

"I cannot. There's no logic for it. No reasoning. You simply don't want to."

Donnie considers the screen, chin on his hand. "Isn't he... Too perfect? Everyone messes up eventually. How can you be a big face in the industry and never have more than two or three heated debates? And any nay-saying is simply nit-picky trolls. It's..." Donnie shakes his head. "He's not a suspect. But something tells me not to write him off just yet."

"He's given you no reason to suspect him. You know he has no motive. You need something more concrete than him being too nice. With that logic, Michelangelo could be the culprit."

"I told you, he's not a suspect. Besides, it's my investigation." Donnie says curtly, heading over to his seat. He filters through a few irritated thoughts that he knows the prying mutant monkey will pick up on. "Let's move on, shall we?" 

Rockwell seems annoyed, but Donnie doesn't waste the energy to care. He sits and then hands over a few papers. "Rockwell, Leo said that you believe whoever this guy is doesn't know his way around chemicals."

"That would be an accurate paraphrase, yes." 

"So does that take out everyone is the chemist division? Well, no, maybe not interns..."

"The mutagen has only come into the picture very recently." Rockwell points out as he lets the papers float in the air before him, studying them critically. "Any person trying to use it in any already proven chemical outline will have a fair share of troubles getting the elements to respond, degree or no."

"That would explain the inconsistencies." Donnie's eyes widen. "And if they're only in it for a quick buck-" 

"-there is no reason to believe they would be careful about how their deadly poison gas kills the mutant. As long as their body is rendered incapacitated." 

"So you think the dart-" 

"-was meant to capture instead of harm? It depends." Rockwell shifts the papers to train a steady gaze on the turtle. "Do you believe a person intent on kidnapping two rare mutant lifeforms would end his experiment during a perceivable moment of fight-or-flight? Especially considering how few there are of your exact make-up?" 

Donnie's eyes light up. "You do think they're lying!" 

"I think it would be pure idiocy to give up a specimen for adhering to a natural instinct after going through so much trouble to catch it in the first place." Rockwell sets the stack in an nice pile next to his arm. "Of course, they gave you an unstable serum, so I doubt the perpetrator's IQ is very high."

"Why would they?" Donnie looks back to his screen. "If this isn't a matter of not caring... Maybe they were-" 

"-in a hurry? It's plausible, but that begs the query as to why they're experimenting. What is the goal? What did the villain need two turtles for? He had plenty of options. Why go for the least interesting that the mutants of New York have to offer?" 

Donnie rolls his eyes and muses, "None of these names are familiar. So it's not someone with a grudge. Mutant hunter... Mutant hunter... Has anyone been hunted? Have you run into anyone trying to kill or cage you- other than the obvious suspects."

Rockwell is quiet as he regards the names on Donatello's wall. Finally, he decides, "No. I recognize some faces from my time as a human, but none during my activities as an ape."

"That's right!" Donatello gasps, jumping to his feet. "You were human! A human scientist!"

"How astute." Rockwell remarks blandly. "I can see why you are the brains of the group."

"No, that-uh-that-" He hurries over to the man that he'd crossed out. "Him. How did you know he was a conservationist?"

"We spoke briefly." Rockwell acknowledges. "He had trouble seeing the topic from multiple perspectives. I cannot work with someone so shortsighted."

"See! You've worked with some of these people!" Donatello taps the photo. "That's first hand knowledge. A suspect eliminated in minutes. You're still in contact with some of the scientists that you used to work with, right?"

"Of course." Rockwell muses as a million and one thoughts center on one idea. "You believe I should use my contacts to discover a lead."

For the first time since he'd entered the room, the boy smiles. "Exactly! And if worse comes to worse, we can put your mind-reading to use!"

"Unless they're actively considering a topic, I will not probe further. It would cause significant damage for me to dive into an inferior brain ignorant of my company."

"We can work out the details later." Donnie dismisses with a wave, moving over to his papers. "This is perfect. The faster I can rule out suspects, the quicker we can get to Raph. All I need is a location."

"And your brother's backing." Rockwell reminds before a smug air filters between the scattered thoughts, shifting them into something undeniably arrogant. 

Donatello places a hand on his hip, smirking at the ape as he processes. The teen earns a nod of approval. "Very well then. Let us know when you do. Slash would have my head if I did not include him in that particular mission, whether or not he believes that Raphael has survived."

"Going in alone is a good way to get captured myself." Donnie consents as the pride dies, remorse slowing his words. "I'd... Rather not become the next reason for my brothers to mourn." He swallows, looking away. "And, you know, getting cut up sucks."

"No person wants to be an experiment." Rockwell agrees solemnly. "And I think you should consider your brother's offering of a meal and rest."

Anger bulldozes the mix of emotions. "Rockwell..." 

"You might enjoy the power of hoarding your well-being over your brother," Rockwell cuts in evenly. "but it would do you more good to have him on your side. As long as you treat him as the enemy, you lose the ability to manipulate your leader into sensibility." He shakes his head. "A turtle in mourning is a difficult creature to reason with."

"Tell me about it. It's not like I haven't consumed anything in the last thirty-six hours." Donatello bears a bitter tone, but his thoughts are raked in uncertainty. "I guess he would bother me a lot less if I took away his reason too."

"It's time you took advantage of the vulnerability." Rockwell commends. "Once he's relaxed his grip, you're free to act as only you see fit. It's the best way to ensure that you bring your brother home. And that the other doesn't decide to try chains on you once more."

"I mean, chains, really?" Donatello scowls. Rockwell raises an eye ridge. "Did you not use chains on Leatherhead during a period of unstable actions?"

"That's not the same thing."

"I choose not to judge."

"All you do is judge."

"I express the correct opinion when I see fit."

"You know what?" Donatello sets the papers down. "You might not always be right, but your suggestion has merit. If it's the best way to get Leo off my case, I'll play his game."

"And I will find you your suspect." 

Donatello leans on the desk, smiling. "I knew you weren't as bad as you pretend to be."

"I don't pretend to be anything." He faces the computer. "And this is for purely selfish reasoning. Mainly, because I do not wish to become the next test subject."

A smug grin settles under sharp eyes.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

A marker whacks Donatello in the forehead.

"Yow!" 

Donnie rubs his temple from the ground.

Rockwell doesn't bother hiding his smirk.