Donatello can only describe how he feels as numb. His brain is all fuzzed up like a badly wired television set, a familiar ache clawing its way back into his chest. As the five boys reenter the lair, they're greeted by April and Splinter. Destiny lays on the couch, fast asleep. She's still far too pale.

"Thank goodness, you're okay," April says, giving Casey a quick hug before looking to the others. "But...where's Sarina?"

Solemn expressions pass between the brothers. Donatello steps forward and places the medicine in April's hand, then goes to his lab without a word. Splinter's ears flatten as he watches his son leave, then he returns his attention to the remaining four.

"What happened?" he asks, gentle yet still forceful enough to be taken as a command.

A few more uncertain glances, then Leonardo takes a deep breath. As he steps forward, preparing to speak, there's a soft whine from the couch as Destiny stirs. She sits up after a second and turns her head, eyes widening.

"You're back!" she says, her tail thumping against the bench. "Did it go okay? Where's Donnie? Where's Sarina?"

Leonardo's expression crumbles.

In Donatello's lab, he peeks out at the scene. He watches his eldest brother walk to Destiny and say something that makes her hopeful, wondering expression fade into disbelief. She shakes her head, her face scrunching and her shoulders starting to quake.

The purple-masked turtle looks away, plodding like a zombie to his desk. The trickles of conversation shoot through the air, whizzing past him, and he stays blank. Destiny's weakened, stammering voice gets sharper and more high-pitched as the explanation goes on. Leonardo's voice gets softer. Michelangelo inputs only a single apology before he's silent again. Raphael is, surprisingly, quiet.

Donatello hopes that there aren't any tears.

He slumps forward, cradling his head in his hands as he hovers above the three folders sitting there on the tabletop. It's like they're watching him, begging him to open them and discover the secrets they hold. He shoves them into a hasty pile and opens his computer, reopening his flow chart.

It still has all the same information that it did the last time he looked at, but now he's ready to fill in some blanks.

He adds a few new boxes and connects a few more dots, entirely focused. As long as he's working on this, it'll keep his mind off everything else. The last thing he wants is to think about Sarina.

He shakes his head. "No, stop," he mumbles. "Not right now."

He finishes a few more clicks and sits back.

His gaze flickers to the files yet again and he bites his lip, his fingers starting to twitch. If only he could read them, figure out how to fit the puzzle pieces together and see the whole picture of things, but he forces his hands to stay glued to his lap. It's an invasion of privacy.

"Donnie?" Michelangelo calls. He pokes his head into the lab with a hesitant grin. "Can you come and patch up Destiny?"

"None of you can do it?" Donatello replies, hardly sparing a glance away from his computer.

"She asked for you."

Donatello softens slightly and, with one more pleading, puppy dog look from Michelangelo, stands up and retrieves his first aid kit. He goes out into the living room to find that there's no one there except Destiny. When he looks to the dojo, he can see the silhouettes of his brothers training.

"Hey Don," Destiny says, making him startle and blink rapidly as he snaps his head to her. She manages a barely-there smile and lifts up the canister of medicine with her uninjured arm. "Ready to fix my shoulder?"

"Yeah," he mumbles.

He gets to work without much more conversation, cleaning away excess blood from the edges of the wound with a disinfectant wipe. Destiny leans her head against her pillow, turning her face into it whenever something is particularly painful.

"So..." she says after a while, voice raspy. "How are you holding up?"

He exhales slowly through his nostrils as he uncaps the canister and lets the transparent vial fall out into his waiting palm. As he puts some of the cerise lotion on his fingertips, then starts massaging it onto Destiny's injury, she lets out a long sigh of relief and goes limp. All signs of discomfort and pain melt from her expression as her tail starts to thump, the cooling relief of the medicine already sinking into her skin.

"Oh, that's good," she sighs. He lets out another exhalation and her pupils swivel to him. "Are you gonna answer me sometime?"

"I'm holding up. There, answered," he says.

"Okay, Raphael, can I speak to Donnie please?" she retorts. He glances up from her shoulder with a small glare and she instantly stops smirking, her ears pulling back against her sweaty curls. "I'm sorry, I'm just...trying to deal. I find making lame jokes helps me get out of the scary, dark place in my head."

He stops working for a moment as distance creeps into his eyes. "I'm sorry that I didn't do more to save her, Des," he whispers.

She bows her head and looks off towards the dojo. "She really did sacrifice herself then?"

"She...did a lot of things."

Destiny sits with that for a moment before her mouth twists and she jams her hand against her eye, biting down hard on her bottom lip and she screws her eyes shut. "Damn it..."

"Des?"

"I should be used to people leaving, right?" she asks, letting out a choked laugh. "I think it'll be easy, but every time, I'm hit with how much I'm actually gonna miss them." She slowly opens her eyes again, dragging her hand underneath them to clear away the moisture. "I didn't think that I'd miss her if she left."

He caps the medicine and sets it aside, reaching down to retrieve some gauze pads. "Honestly, me too," he admits, placing the gauze over her wound.

"I mean, she was so...annoying! I had to explain everything to her and she was so nosy, I thought I'd lose my mind," she continues, a few more tears appearing as she speaks. "She followed you around like a lost duckling, she never knew when to shut her mouth, and she was such a smart ass, but..." She chokes out another laugh. "But...she was genuine. She was eager, curious, funny without even realizing it...honest. She felt everything so differently than anyone else I've ever met." Destiny stops, finally looking to Donatello again with a soft shock on her face. "Having her around...sometimes I forgot to miss Diaval."

Donatello smiles just a bit. "I forgot to be sad about April."

She gazes up at the ceiling as he starts bandaging up her shoulder, a stray tear finally rolling down her face, and she reaches up to brush it away. "Who's gonna help us forget to miss her?" she wonders.

He pins the bandages into place and sits back. "We won't need someone. We'll get her back."

"When?"

"As soon as possible." He stands and reaches over to ruffle Destiny's hair. "Get some sleep, okay? I'll redress it tomorrow and we'll see how it's coming along."

"If you insist," she says. She snuggles deep into the blanket and shuts her eyes. "Thanks, Donnie."

"You're welcome, Des."

He packs up his first aid supplies and starts back towards the lab, but someone calls his name and he stops. Leonardo stands near the dojo entrance, beckoning him closer while motioning for him to stay quiet. Donatello obeys.

Together, Leonardo casts a quick glance to Destiny. "How's she doing?"

"Good, she should be better in no time," Donatello answers. "Ideally."

Leonardo's face becomes more grave as he crosses his arms over his chest. "And...did you say anything about the files?"

"No. Should I?"

"Not yet," he says. "I want her to get her strength back before we show her. That file could have the answers to all her questions about who she is and where she came from, but...it also might not. Let her have this bit of peace."

Donatello purses his lips, then nods. "Alright," he agrees.

Leonardo squeezes his shoulder and smiles lightly. "Thanks."

"No problem."

As his brother walks away, Donatello takes a deep breath and wishes for the strength he needs to keep his curiosity at bay.

----------

Locked away in her old cell, Sarina takes full advantage of the equipment the Kraang have left inside. She never realized it before, but she had been quite lucky to have access to such things. She imagines that the reason behind it is simply to keep her mind sharp and occupied, docile even, and she almost smiles when she thinks of how that's backfired.

She sets up a few mirrors and positions herself so that she can see the back of her head. With that to aid her, she retrieves a small Kraang tablet fitted with an X-ray and positions it next to her head. She presses the picture button and waits for it to finish.

Once complete, she checks the scan and frowns. Aside from the normal electrical wiring in her brain, there's no sign of any kind of physical signal beacon. She sets the tablet down and reaches to touch the base of her neck, thinking as hard as she can. If she can fudge the signal, find some way to shut it off, then she could attempt another escape and they wouldn't be able to track her.

Perhaps she could cut it from her head, she thinks. There's the high potential of slight brain damage if she does. When she checks the X-ray scan again, she figures that the signal must be coming from either the cerebellum or the occipital lobes.

"Yes," she says aloud, lowering herself into the nearest chair as she taps her chin. "The occipital has the main connection to my vision, and with the energy coming off my eyes, that's a high possibility." She glances at it again. "But the cerebellum controls fine movements of the body, and I am powered by energy."

She falls silent. Either one presents difficulties and high risks; with one she could lose the ability to walk, speak normally, or pick things up; with the other she could lose reading and writing comprehension, hallucinate, and have vision defects among others.

Is it worth it?

"Kraang, has Kraang tried the thing known as protein shakes? Kraang has already become that which is stronger."

"Kraang can tell. Kraang has muscles that have increased in size and make Kraang look...buff."

Sarina's lip curls and she debates jamming a screwdriver into her ears. Yes, it's worth it. Anything to get out of here and get back to her friends, even if it's just to apologize.

"Halt, Subject 60184."

Sarina stops dead, her hand hovering over her tablet. She looks up slowly to find that the Kraang droids from before are staring at her, guns drawn. She swivels in her chair, a bored expression on her face as her eyebrow arches.

"Did I do something wrong?" she inquires.

"The one known as you is under strict surveillance by Kraang," the lead droid says. "The one known as you has experienced the thing known as rewiring, which creates difficulty for Kraang."

"And?"

"Kraang wishes to prevent those things known as further DIY body modifications. Kraang needs the one known as you in prime condition for dimensional transport in 72 earth hours."

Her eyes flash and she rises to her feet. "How do you know if I was planning to make any so-called modifications?" she asks.

"Kraang keeps close tabs on internet history. The one known as you has been searching up topics known as brain alteration and signal interference. Kraang is not what is known as pleased."

She crosses her arms over her chest. "While that is true, I am almost interested in what you think you could do to cease my activities," she says.

In the days to come, Sarina would realize that challenging her captors wasn't the best thing to do, especially in her situation.

She watches helplessly as the Kraang bring out the last of her supplies, leaving only her bed, outlet, and a singular journal with a pen. Her room is suddenly far too cold and lonely, and as she lowers herself onto her bed, she is hit with the realization that, in a way, she had it good before.

To elaborate, she was emotionless. She could spend day after day in this cell with nothing but countless scribblings lacing her journals and diagrams dotting her walls. She never felt hungry, never felt thirsty, and she was given amenities that most other subjects never got the privilege of having. The only thing she lacked was freedom.

Sarina feels a wave of melancholy and wraps her arms around herself. Did she really spend sixteen years just...sitting in this cell and thinking? She never knew how much potential there is out there in the world until only a little while ago, and just like that, it's over.

For a brief, flickering moment, she imagines Donatello. She imagines his embrace, his smile, his stammering laugh, his expressive eyes, and she feels tingly from head to toe. Her fingertips drift to her lips and she sighs, allowing her eyes to flutter shut as she tries to retrieve the feeling of that kiss from her memories. It was so full of shock, so full of urgency, and yet it was the best thing Sarina had ever felt.

I want you.

She squeezes her eyes shut a little tighter and rolls onto her side, clutching her pillow beneath her head as she reaches down and tugs the blanket over her. Even as she lies there, she's missing the Hamatos. They are everywhere that she looks.

The pillow beneath her head is clean and void of blemishes. The pillow she used at the lair was smushed and misshapen from years of use, and when she laid her head on it, she could faintly smell pizza mingling with incense and water.

The blanket covering her is identical to the pillow: white, clean, blemish-free. The blanket she used at the lair was a patchwork quilt with stray threads escaping the stitches, patches adorning it every which way, and there was a small burn mark that Destiny said was from some stray sparks during a campfire.

Her bed is sturdy and firm. At the lair, Sarina slept on a spare mattress with an old sheet on top. Despite feeling the sag of the material as it held her weight and the fact that it was on the floor, Sarina could look up at any point during the night and see Destiny curled up in a ball, cocooned in stars and planets dotting her blanket. Some nights, Sarina woke to see Leonardo snuggled beside Destiny, their faces wiped clean of distress and their only focus on remaining encased in one another's hold.

This cell is empty and cold. Sarina looks up and she sees purple veins in a metal skin instead of her fierce, stubborn wolf best friend. Sarina looks towards the door and there's no lamp with stars cut in the shade and no pictures of the turtles and Diaval, only more hallways and more Kraang. She looks at her hand and all she wants is for someone to take it and tell her that she'll be okay.

She closes her eyes. She dreams of someone with a large, gentle hand leading her away from her captivity.