This wasn't going to be my first TMNT fanfic, but I had to react to that heart-stopping season finale. I don't have much of a plot in mind, I just want to show how everyone deals with the aftermath. This might be a collection of oneshot-type chapters exploring their emotions, or it might turn into a story if I get a good response and inspiration hits.

This fanfiction is based on characters created by Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird, and trademarked by Nickelodeon. It's written purely as a tribute to characters I love, not for profit.

The drive to Northampton felt like days, though it was only about six hours. Normally it would have been less than four, but with New York City being reverse-terraformed by the Kraang, they weren't the only ones desperate to escape. Eventually the cacophonous medley of traffic jams and panicked humans faded into the distance. Buildings and highways gave way to trees and back roads.

"This is the place," April said as a two-story farmhouse came into view. For a moment she was flooded with memories of past summers with her father, so incongruous with the present situation that she felt disoriented.

Donnie sat quietly in the back corner of the van, obscured by shadows so April couldn't see his face. Raph and Mikey had long since passed out in each other's arms. Leo hadn't stirred once during the entire drive, but April tried not to think about that.

"Not bad," Casey said appraisingly as the gravel driveway crunched beneath the van. April glanced at him, feeling a surge of warmth at his casualness in the wake of tragedy. She knew he was roiling with emotions on the inside, but he still managed to keep up the lighthearted, cocky façade in an attempt to be strong for his friends. But mostly me, said a voice in the back of her mind. She pushed it away, not able or willing to open that particular can of worms in the midst of a crisis.

The van came to a halt and an eerie silence fell over them. It was just too surreal—everything was still and quiet except for the soft chirp of crickets, and it was hard to believe this place inhabited the same planet as the chaos in New York City. They were only a few hours apart, but it felt like a world away.

Casey cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Guess we should start setting up for the night," he said, getting out and heading around to the back of the van. April followed suit but stopped to stare up at the house, illuminated against a backdrop of stars. She had forgotten what the night sky looked like outside New York City, where the stars were drowned out by lights. She had also forgotten what true silence was like, accustomed to the constant background noise of traffic and people. Then it struck her that if this felt odd to her, it was going to be even more jarring for the turtles, who had never spent a day of their lives outside the city.

Once again memories flooded her mind, reverberating from the house and through her consciousness in a psychic feedback loop. She raised a hand to her temple, willing the dull headache away. Donnie stood at the edge of her peripheral vision, probably concerned, but made no move to check on her. Normally he'd ask if she was okay, but she knew she had leveraged Casey between them. Still, she felt a pang at his hesitation.

By this point Casey had woken Raph and Mikey and now everyone except Leo stood around the van, stretching and taking in the scenery. They would have been in awe of their first brush with nature, were they not emotionally drained to the point of numbness.

As they began making their way up the porch steps, April remembered she didn't have a key, so when she reached the door she stood there dumbly for a moment before remembering her friends were ninjas. "Uh, guys—"

"Already on it, Red," came Casey's smug voice. She looked up to find him already maneuvering a window open.

Four ninjas, and one juvenile delinquent, she amended. Take your pick.

A moment later Casey was crawling through the window and stumbling through the dark house. A crash was heard, followed by muttered curses, then he opened the front door. "Piece of cake," he said with a composed smile. They all filed through as he held the door open.

"I'm not going to ask where you learned that," Donnie remarked as he passed. April couldn't help but snicker when Casey's grin turned sheepish.

April was so used to the constant noise of the city that she always had a hard time sleeping the first few nights in her summer home. The firelight wasn't helping either, but after stumbling through the darkness with only a candle proved futile, they had decided to camp out in the living room and wait for daylight to make their sleeping arrangements. Secretly, though, April believed they all took comfort in being close to each other. And the fire (supplied by Donnie, with firewood that was fortunately left over from last summer) fended off the cold. At some point April would have to figure out how to cut the heat, electricity, and running water back on. But she pushed that thought away for now.

If she was honest with herself, she almost didn't want to fall asleep. She was so overwhelmed that the full emotional impact of everything hadn't hit her yet, and she knew that as soon as she was rested the shock would set in, and the pain would follow.

April heard rustling sheets and scanned the room to see who was stirring. The turtles all lay in their makeshift beds on the floor, save for Leo, who occupied the sofa. He was still out cold, so the sound wasn't from him. Casey had refused blankets and pillows and slept sitting upright, his head propped against the arm of her love seat. Raph snored softly and Mikey was still happily cuddled up to him. That left Donnie, who had made his bed parallel to Leo's. April watched as he shifted restlessly under his covers, then sighed in frustration and stood up. A moment later he was gone and she heard front door open and close softly.

She had been trying to stave off emotions since this whole thing started, but now guilt was easing its way into her consciousness. Donnie had been distancing himself from the others all night, and she knew it was partly her fault, but Donnie's feelings—her feelings—were just too much to confront at the moment.

He blames himself for his father's…

April couldn't bear to think the word. There was still hope… right?

Did he turn away from you when your dad was kidnapped by the Kraang? When your dad was mutated? Or even when you blamed him and told him you never wanted to see him again?

Guilt reared its ugly head and April couldn't push it aside this time. Donnie had held her when she cried over her dad, risked life and limb for her, and worked scientific miracles to help her. And now he had lost everything, and she hadn't offered one hug or comforting word.

Careful not to wake the others, she got up and followed after Donnie. The chill air made her shiver but she ignored it, stepping out into the night. Donnie stood silhouetted on the porch, his hands resting on the railing. If he heard her approach, he didn't acknowledge it.

"Donnie?" she began tentatively. No response. She moved to stand next to him, suddenly nervous. She hadn't thought about what she would say. Finally she decided on, "I couldn't sleep either."

He was silent long enough that she didn't think he was going to respond until he said softly, "It's so quiet here, but at the same time there are too many sounds. I've already identified nine different species of crickets."

April glanced at him, impressed. "And this has to be the first time you've heard them," she said.

Hearing nature's symphony for the first time in his life, Donnie should have been overcome with wonder, but he could feel nothing but loss and guilt. He turned his expressionless gaze to April, who looked mildly distressed. He had never been this… distant around her before.

Way to go, you're scaring her off.

"How are you holding up?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound cold.

April let out a soft breath, as if exhaling the tension she'd felt earlier. This was familiar territory. Donnie showing concern for her.

Except, you're the one who should be comforting him.

This thought made her frown, and she broke her gaze from Donnie, leaning into the porch railing. "I don't even want to think about it. I'm too exhausted to let myself feel anything right now."

"I wish I could just ignore my feelings." The words escaped his mouth before he realized what he was saying. He was relieved he didn't finish the thought out loud: The way you ignore mine.

But there must have been some bitterness in his voice because April's eyes snapped to his. "Donnie, it wasn't your fault. If it was anyone's fault, it was mine, bringing Irm—that Kraang—back to the lair."

Great, now you're making it all about you again. Are you so used to being on the receiving end of this friendship that you can't even be there for Donnie?

Before he could try to reassure her, she hurried on, "You… you carried out the plan even after everything went wrong, and proved you have what it takes to be a leader. Leo would be proud." She offered a weak smile, only to have it cut off by Donnie's response.

"Leo would be proud," he almost sneered. "If he weren't unconscious and close to dying." Because of me.

"That's not—"

But Donnie couldn't take another moment of her attempts to console him. Not after she'd effectively shut him down earlier, back at her apartment. And definitely not when it was undeserved.

"I just… need to be alone."

April watched in shock as, for the first time ever, Donnie turned from her and walked away.

"If you would just talk to me—"

Donnie glanced over his shoulder just long enough to deliver the line that would leave her stunned and full of remorse.

"I shouldn't talk. It will just make things hurt more."