A/N: Hey guys! this is the last chapter to my renewed Secret of the Ooze fanfiction. Thank you for reading until the end, and I love you all!

I OWN NOTHING.

Enjoy!

Chapter 23:

Epilogue: Moving Forward

Elsewhere, as the city continued to celebrate the joys of the season with their families and friends in the snow covered streets, deep within the hidden junkyard, things were not quite as pleasant and joyful as an evil black hearted being stood above the two bowed figures before him, eyeing them with immense disapproval as he folded his hands behind his back, his discolored eyes narrowing as he growled. "So," the Shredder began lowly, his dark tone foreboding, "you have both failed to destroy the turtles as I had commanded you, and you let them thwart our plans yet again."

Kneeling before him, a cold and damp furred Rahzar and a large mutant fish on robotic legs lowered their heads in shame. "Our deepest apologies, Master Shredder," Rahzar explained, his eyes remaining on the floor. "The turtles were one step ahead of us it seemed."

"However, all is not lost," Xever claimed, hoping to appease his master (and not get turned into minced sushi). "Their so called, 'retro-mutagen' cure had failed. It was flawed in some way, only curing a victim of their mutation for twenty-four hours, so that is no longer a threat to the creation of our mutant army. And we still have the Kraang on our arsenal."

Shredder, despite his displeasure, nodded once. "Indeed. At least they were actually able to succeed in their tasks," he snapped, before he turned his attention to the motionless Kraang droid stood at his left. "Did you do as I had asked, creature?" Shredder probed darkly.

The droid gave the ninja master a firm nod. "Kraang has done what the one called Shredder has required of Kraang," it replied in its robotic monotone. "Kraang did not anticipate the ones known as The Turtles to fool Kraang by replacing the one called April O'Neil with the one called Karai. However, that did not stop the planned release of the one known as Kirby O'Neil."

Shredder nodded. "The turtles must undoubtedly think that they have won this battle," Shredder sneered, clenched his gloved hand into a tight, determined fist as he chuckled darkly. "They were wrong. We must make haste and prepare for the next stage of our plans. And soon, revenge will be ours."

Inside the belly of the droid, the alien creature grinned devilishly in kind.

Early that Sunday morning, inside the apartment above the busy bakery that his younger sister was currently running, Kirby O'Neil sat at the dining table in the kitchen, a steaming cup of coffee in his hands as he let out a content sigh. For the middle-aged father, it felt good to sit down and relax after all the chaos that had recently taken place.

But despite how relaxed he seemed outwardly, he couldn't truly let his guard down for long.

He had tried to take his mind off the sights of the alien creatures that had taken him captive twenty-four hours previously, but found that every now and then, hideous images would suddenly flash in his mind. Not only had that, but the back of his neck become increasingly sore ever since the whole ordeal had begun. Even now, he subconsciously reached his hand back and scratched the sore spot. He supposed it was just an itch of some sort that would go away eventually, but even so, he found it oddly peculiar…

Perhaps he was just being paranoid. After all, he'd just been abducted by aliens; who wouldn't be a little high-strung after a nightmare like that?

As he sipped his coffee, he could hear the pounding of hurried footsteps from the stairs, and his red haired daughter appeared moments later, dragging along a protesting Casey Jones by his arm. Kirby chuckled at the sight of the very bright pink apron he wore that read 'Kiss the Baker' on it. And to add to the hilarity, Casey's expression was less than pleased as he scowled and grumbled under his breath.

"Hi dad," April greeted with a bright smile. "Sorry to barge in like this, but we need more sugar for the doughnuts. Do you know where Aunt Robyn put the container?" she asked.

Chuckling, Kirby nodded and pointed wordlessly to the cupboard under the sink.

"Oh, thanks!" she said as she dragged Casey toward the sink and took out the large container of sugar, handing it to the raven haired boy.

"Hey, red?" Casey asked with a little huff from how heavy the container was. "Not that I've got a problem with it, but remind me again why you've gotta drag me all over the place with you?"

"So you can carry the heavy stuff, and so you don't take off the apron," she answered nonchalantly, shutting the cupboard with her foot as she turned to him and placed her hands on her hips. "You're the one who wanted a part-time job. If you wanna get paid, you've gotta follow the rules. Meaning you have to wear the apron. Got it?"

Rolling his eyes to the heavens above, Casey groaned loudly in humiliation. Why had he asked to work here in this bakery again? He was the masked vigilante, the infamous Casey Jones for goodness sakes! He should be out there scouring the streets for evildoers, cracking skulls and fighting for justice, not wearing a cutesy pink apron and making cakes! If Raphael could see him now, he probably would have died laughing at him already.

Kirby chuckled at the exchange and at the young man's frustration as they turned to leave, before he felt a sharp stinging pain in the back of his neck. Letting out a pained gasp, Kirby jerked back slightly and hissed through his teeth as he rubbed his neck.

At the sound of his discomfort, April and Casey drew to a halt at the mouth of the kitchen as looked back at him in concern. "Mr. O'Neil? You okay there, sir?" Casey asked with a quirked brow.

Despite the pain, Kirby managed to send them both a reassuring smile. "Don't worry; I'm fine," he assured. You two had better go back down and help your Aunt with the shop. I'll be fine."

The two teenagers nodded albeit uncertainly, but before they left the kitchen, April turned back and hugged her father, burying her face into his shoulder. "It's good to have you back, daddy," she said softly.

Kirby chuckled and hugged her back, stroking the back of her head. "It's good to be back, sweetheart," he replied. As his beloved daughter released him and dragged her protesting vigilante friend along, Kirby closed his eyes and let his shoulders sag as he let out a long, contented sigh of relief.

But when he opened them again, they had gained a dark, hellish red colour.

Far on the other side of town, inside an old laboratory building that had been abandoned long ago, Dr. Victor Falco was sat at his desk, closely examining a small sample of a glowing substance underneath his microscope.

He couldn't resist it. He just couldn't. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't prevent himself. He had to steal a sample of mutagen from Shredder's lair. It was just too amazing of a scientific discovery to let slip through his fingers after so many years of unsuccessful research.

It was whilst Donatello had fallen unconscious on his lap back at the junkyard that he had spotted a small canister of mutagen that had been carelessly dropped on the floor. He had stared at it for several seconds, contemplating on his resolve. He knew he shouldn't have, but the longer he stared at it, the more it seemed to call out to him, enticing him to pick it up. So, despite knowing the danger, he took his chance and hid it well in his lab coat, just before Donatello came around.

Now, as he examined the ooze closely, he wondered if he could somehow modify it to a certain point. If he and Donatello had able to use it to create a retro-mutagen, then surely he could adapt it in another way…perhaps he could even create some kind of neurochemical. The mutagen was unpredictable, and it had taken both himself and a teenaged reptile to decipher how to alter it. But imagine, if one could create a chemical able to give someone the temporary ability to achieve psychic abilities…

He drew away from the microscope, putting a finger to his chin as he hummed in thought. The modification of the mutagen was possible, but he couldn't do it alone. He would need some help though, or at the very least a test subject of some nature…

Just then, there was a knock on his lab door, interrupting Falco's thoughts. "Uh, come in," he announced. He hoped it wasn't one of the turtles coming to check on him. If they ever found out about the mutagen, his trust with them would be lost. Having such powerful allies on your side was a valuable asset should he ever need them again.

The door opened, and to his relief, the visitor wasn't a giant ninja turtle. A tall, dark haired, middle aged man with a small goatee on his chin entered the small worn down lab, smiling brightly at the sight of Falco. "Victor! It's you!" he exclaimed.

Letting out a quiet sigh of relief, Falco turned around fully and smiled at his old friend. "Dr. Tyler Rockwell! It's good to see you again my friend," he said as he and Dr. Rockwell hugged each other for a brief moment.

"What happened to you, Victor?" Rockwell asked as they both drew away. "I heard about TCRI shutting down, but I hadn't heard from you in days. What's been going on? Are you alright?"

Falco chuckled fondly. "Well, let's just say I ran into some…extraordinary people who helped me. But I'm perfectly fine now, Tyler. And I'm very glad you're here, because I have something marvelous to show you."

Grinning as he folded his arms over his chest, Rockwell raised a brow. "Really, now? Well then, surprise me, Falco."

Chuckling, Falco led Rockwell over to the microscope. "Go ahead. Take a good look," he said.

As he peered through the microscope, Rockwell gasped in awe. "It's the mutagen!" he exclaimed excitedly as he looked back up at Falco. "I thought we destroyed the remaining supply! How did you manage to find some more samples?"

Falco chuckled again. "Ah, ah! That's for me to know only, my friend." He joked, tapping the bridge of his own nose. "I was actually wondering if maybe I could modify the sample somewhat. Maybe…oh, I don't know. Just for arguments sake, we could probably develop some sort of Nero chemical for temporary psychic abilities. Imagine that!"

Rockwell laughed and rolled his eyes. "Well, what better way to finish off the festive season than with a little experimentation, eh Falco?" he offered, giving Falco a friendly pat on the back. "A psychic chemical could be possible, if we use the right ingredients. What say you and I start investigating together right now? I just happened to be coming from another nearby lab with a case full of mammal DNA samples before I stopped by. I have all kinds of samples with me, like cats, dogs, even monkeys! How about it?"

It was in that moment, as he looked at his friend, that Dr. Victor Falco had an idea of his own. It was the mention of monkeys, the closest relative of humans, which had caught his attention…

Falco smiled ominously at him. "Yes," he said slowly as he went over to the door and deliberately closed it. He turned back to Rockwell, who had gone back to observing the mutagen sample with eagerness. "I agree. Let's start experimenting, my dear friend. Why don't we start…with the Monkey DNA…"

With his back turned and his mind occupied, Tyler Rockwell didn't hear the lab door lock. Or hear the key be thrown away to the side out of his reach.

Or even foresee the needle that his trusted friend had hidden within his lab coat as he approached him...

In the late hours of the cold afternoon, Master Splinter emerged from the kitchen to find his sons carrying on with their daily past time activities in the pit of their underground home. It was still far too early to go up to the surface, and the four boys were still rather tired out from the events of the past week. It was a combination of that, and the fact that it was a holiday that Splinter had allowed the boys to have the day off.

Nibbling on his cheesicle, Splinter looked over each of his sons with fondness. Leonardo was religiously watching his 'Space Heroes' TV show whilst munching on one of the leftover pizza slices from their party the other night. Raphael was feeding his pet turtle, Spike, a green lettuce leaf as he pretended not to watch the show his older brother was watching.

He saw Michelangelo just coming out of the bathroom with a miserable wet cat wrapped up in a towel in his arms as he made his way to sit next to Raph on the bench. "Sorry, Klunkers. I know it sucks, but you've gotta be clean. Master Splinters' orders!" he said as he gently dried off the protesting cat. Splinter smiled, pleased that his youngest son had remembered what he had told him about cat hairs; they were rather unpleasant to his sensitive nose.

It was then that he noticed that his third eldest son, Donatello, was nowhere to be found. He could hear nothing from his lab or his room, even with his keen sense of hearing. He raised a thoughtful furry brow. "My sons, where is Donatello?" he asked his three remaining pupils.

They all looked up at him, and then to each other. Leo and Mikey shrugged in unison, but then Raph held up a finger. "Oh, that's right! He went back to the other hideout. He said he was working on something there."

Leo looked at him, raising a brow. "He did? He didn't say anything to me about going anywhere."

"Or me," Mikey said as he folded his arms, slightly peeved that Donnie wouldn't tell him anything he was up to if it involved science-y things.

Splinter nodded his acknowledgement, and after quickly finishing the last of his cheesicle, he then turned towards the turnstiles at the entrance of the lair. "I shall go and look for him," he announced. "You three must stay here until we return. Understood?"

"Hai Sensei!" they replied in unison.

With that, Splinter walked out of the Lair, leaving his three remaining sons to their own inclinations. As soon as Splinter disappeared around the corner and out of earshot, Mikey turned to his older brothers. "Do you think Donnie's gonna get in trouble?" he asked.

Before Leo could off his opinion, Raph beat him to it. "Nah," he waved off nonchalantly as he went back to feeding Spike his leaf. "Probably just forgot something during the move and went back to go get it. No big deal."

Though still unsatisfied, Mikey simply shrugged it off with a nod and returned to drying off Klunk, who had seemed to have calm down now as her master rubbed the towel. However, as he stared after his Sensei as he left the lair, Leo wasn't so sure. Donnie never left the lair without at least telling him or one of the others where he was going in advance; the fact that he'd managed to slip past them without giving them so much as a farewell didn't bode well with the young leader.

Donnie was hiding something, wasn't he?

It took a long time, longer than he would have liked it to, but eventually Splinter finally reached the abandoned subway station that had served as their home for the past few days. He scanned the old area with slight fondness. The boys had missed their original home of course, but he watched the way they had quickly grown to love it once they were finally settled down. If there was ever a day where the family would have to permanently leave their home, this place would be their first choice without a doubt.

As he walked deeper into the hideout, he found no trace of his purple clad son…well, that is until he reached the line of subway cars and found a pair of long green legs protruding from underneath one of the cars. He heard a few clanks, sparks of electricity and a soft Japanese curse word that seemed too colourful for a young one like himself to be using, which Splinter made a mental note of to reprimand him for later. Keeping silent, Splinter calmly approached the subway car, to which his son was oblivious to. "My son," he announced.

"WAAAH!" Donatello cried out in surprise before hitting his head again underneath the car. He rolled out from underneath it and rubbed his aching head, looking around with a slight growl for who had interrupted his work. He looked up, and his agitation vanished in a millisecond. "Oh! M-Master Splinter! What are you doing here?" he stuttered as he stood up and attempted to wipe off the grease from his legs, but he only smeared it.

Splinter stroked his beard as he regarded his third son. "The real question, my son, is what are you doing here, alone? And without permission I might add," he queried.

Donnie smiled apologetically, rubbing the back of his head nervously. "I'm sorry but, you see Sensei, after looking at all the parts April and her dad gave me for Christmas, I reckoned I could also make a proficient engine to power up even a subway car, so the thought came to me to take one from this place and possibly turn it into, I dunno, our own van or something. So that way, we can get through the streets without being seen by other humans, and also so we don't have to call Casey all the time to pick us up. What do you think?" he finished, stepping to the side to allow his master to take a look for himself.

Splinter stepped forwards as he looked upon what his intelligent son had accomplished thus far. It seemed as though he had already added several weapons to the vehicle, and as he peered inside, he could see four distinct positions; the driver's seat, a map reading station, a radar system hooked up to a computer, and a literal battle station where one could aim and fire the weapons. He hummed thoughtfully and turned back to his son as he waited for his answer. "I am very impressed, Donatello," he said with a smile. "I am sure your brothers will enjoy patrolling the streets with this new vehicle of yours."

A tint of red coloring his cheeks, Donnie grinned up at him. "Well, t-thank you, Sensei. Though, right now, it's not ready yet, I still need to fix up the engine. Don't want it exploding on us, now do we?" he chuckled bashfully, rubbing the back of his head again.

It was then that Splinter noticed that whilst he tried hard to hide it, he could sense that his third eldest son was quite anxious. He could see it in the way he flexed his fingers, the way he constantly reached back to rub his neck, and the muscles in his shoulder that seemed to tense with every action. "What is troubling you, my son?" Splinter asked him.

Donnie knew that his sensei had noticed his tautness, and he shook his head with a smile. "It's nothing, Sensei," he assured. "Really. I'm just a little tired and…"

Splinter raised a brow at him, obviously not very pleased.

Donnie sighed. "Okay, okay, I'll admit," he caved in at last. "I'm a little anxious. I know that I've learned to let go of the past, I get that now. But what about the future? With so much still going on, how are we going to finally put an end to the Shredder and the Kraang and that Purple Dragon gang all at once? And…" He trailed off as he began to fiddle with the tape on his fingers.

Noticing this, Splinter reached out and placed his hand gently on Donnie's shoulder, bringing him out of his thoughts as he looked back up at the old rat. "Do not stop there, Donatello. Tell me what else is troubling you," he encouraged.

After a moment of silent contemplation, Donnie obeyed. "…do you think I'll be strong enough to carry on and…protect my brothers? With just an oversized brain and a wooden stick?" he asked as he looked up to his father, a slight desolate look in his reddish-brown eyes.

At that, Splinter shook his head and smiled. "You are very intelligent," he began, "but you allow yourself to think excessively on the things ahead. You must allow yourself to live fully in the moment, as I have told you before…and as I have been told by your brothers that you have already done."

Donnie's eyes widened a fraction. "They told you about that?!" he gaped. Leo promised him that he wouldn't bring that up again! That little liar!

Splinter chuckled. "Leonardo said nothing more than that, Donatello," he assured. "You are stronger than you believe you are. Countless times have you protected and strengthened your brothers using only your willpower, your inner strength, your ingenuity, your bravery...and a stick." He earned a little grin from Donnie at that before he continued. "Trust me when I tell you that you are indeed strong enough to continue to aid your brothers, and protect this city as one."

He then took his son by the shoulders and pulled him into his chest, wrapping his strong arms around him. "I am very proud of you, my son."

Hesitating for only a moment, Donnie's arms came around Splinter's waist as hugged his father back with equal force. "Thank you father," he said quietly.

As he held the boy close, Splinter heard a little sniff from his worn out son as he buried his face into his robes. They had all been through many hardships during the past few days, and there was surely more hardships to come. But right now, all Splinter had to focus on was getting them prepared to face those hardships to the best of his ability, and guide them every step of the way. Not only as their teacher, but as their father as well.

When he sensed enough time had passed, Splinter released Donatello and smiled down at him. "Go now; finish your inventions, my son. But do not forget to clean yourself when you return to the lair. You are filthy," he joked as he cuffed Donnie on the back of his head playfully as he reentered the subway car, smiling at his Sensei before he disappeared through the doors.

Splinter folded his hands behind his back, nodding to himself in satisfaction. And without turning around, he announced loudly, "And as for you three, if you do not return to the lair as I have told you to, there will be Randori!"

He heard a quiet chorus of "yeep!" from the entrance of the hideout, and the quick shuffling of several pairs of feet before the three disobedient eavesdroppers disappeared back down the tunnels.

Splinter rolled his eyes heavenward as he chuckled fondly. "Kids," he sighed to himself as he left Donatello to his work and exited the hideout.

Protectors of the city or not, boys would always be boys. And they would always be his boys.

It was now late at night. The full moon shone brightly over the ever moving city of New York, dozens upon dozens of humans carrying on with their daily lives and preparing for the New Year celebrations to come with a song in their hearts.

However, not all was as peaceful as it seemed as the sound of heavy breathing and the pounding footsteps of numerous feet as several men, all different in shape, size and muscle, wearing the exact same dragon tattoo on their arms, ran down a dark alleyway holding several large boxes of stolen jewelry in their hands. They came to a stop to catch their breath, and they each examined their prizes with smug grins. They would get a whole lot of cash for this. And there was no one, not even the cops, who could stop them.

"Hey, were do you think you're going, slime balls?"

The seven Purple Dragons turned to find a shadowy masked figure stood leaning smugly on the hockey stick in his hand. "You know it's dangerous to walk in the dark streets of New York, don't ya?" the boy smirked. "You could get hurt. Right April?"

"Yeah, you never know what could sneak up on you!"

The men turned around again in surprise to find a young woman stood tall and confident, flipping out a metal fan with a flick of her wrist as she eyed them complacently.

The Dragons all smirked and dropped their stolen items on the ground, readying their fists and their hidden weapons as they faced the pair of 'brave' teens. "Really? You think you can beat us?" the skinny one spat. "There's only two of you and six of us, kiddies!"

April raised a brow, her hand on her hip as she shared a grin with the boy opposite her. "Oh?" she said, "Well, I do think we're slightly outnumbered, don't you think Casey?"

Casey smirked underneath his mask. "Oh yeah…why don't we call in a couple of friends and make it even?"

Suddenly, in an explosion of purple smoke that took the Purple Dragons by a storm, four more figures appeared and surrounded the thugs on all sides. The Dragons quickly glanced around them as the dark figures closed in on them, unable to clearly make out their forms due to the smoke that clouded their vision.

Once the smoke finally cleared, the Dragons gaped in shock as the four mysterious beings made themselves known.

"Oh you've gotta be kidding!" the skinny one wailed. "It's those, Kung Fu Frogs again!"

Spinning his Sais of the backs of his hands, Raphael smirked with anticipation. "We're not 'Kung Fu Frogs. "We're Ninja Turtles!" he grinned as he turned to his blue clad leader.

Leonardo grinned back at Raphael as he unsheathed his katanas, pointing their honed tips at the quivering thugs in the center of the alleyway. "So, what do you say? Ready to kick some ass, boys?" he announced to his brothers.

Donatello his Bo staff in his grip and poised it to strike. "Only when Mikey gives the word!" he chuckled, turning to his younger brother who stood with his nunchaku buzzing like a nest of hornets as he spun them excitedly.

At that, Michelangelo nodded and beamed wickedly as he, his brothers, and their two closest human friends charged and leapt upon the unfortunate Purple Dragons with one, glorious call as it echoed through the moonlit night.

"BOOYAKASHAAAA!"

FIN

A/N: And that's all folks! Thank you all for reading my second addition to the Ninja Turtles! Of course, I'm going to attempt to write the Third Movie (but that's looking kinda slim,) but I'll give it a shot. Thanks again!

I DO NOT OWN TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES II: SECRET OF THE OOZE, OR NINJA TURTLES IN GENERAL. THIS IS NON PROFIT.

Thanks again, dudes! Cowabunga!

I mean, BOOYAKASHA!