Genre: Epic Romance
Pairing: Jhannatello
Warnings: None!
Timeline: This takes place in the future when Donatello is in his thirties, well past the events of Influence and the Talk. Those fics are NOT required reading, however. The story stands on its own just fine.

PROLOGUE

"This is what you and Raph have been doing in Northampton?" Leonardo stared in dismay at the alien ship, which they had somehow dredged from the lake. It had been HER ship, that blue-skinned Amazonian queen's. She had crash landed into their lives so many years ago that Leo could not even recall her name.

"It's better than I could have hoped for," Donatello went on explaining with a feverish gleam that lit up his whole face. He was looking at the partially repaired ship with pride, oblivious to the pain written across Leonardo's face. "The coordinates to her planet are pre-programmed into the ship's computer."

"I thought this was about another relapse," Leonardo said too sharply. He hated his tone as soon as the words were out of his mouth, but it was too late to recall what he had said.

Donatello's eyes shot up to meet his, wide with hurt. "No. I'm clean, Leo. I've been clean for years."

"You just–" Leonardo floundered, gesturing with his hands. "Lately, you've seemed so –"

"Happy?" Don suggested.

"Manic," Leo corrected.

"I have been excited," the other turtle acknowledged with a catch in his voice, looking away quickly. "For the first time in – in ages. I just..." He trailed off miserably.

"I'm sorry," Leo sighed in frustration.

"Would you really prefer that?" Donatello persisted bitterly.

"To you leaving?" Leonardo shot back. "That's what you're talking about, isn't it? You're leaving!"

Donatello just looked at him, at a loss for words.

"No," Leo insisted severely, shaking his head. "Of course I wouldn't prefer that. I just. You told me… you said it would be a long time! Before you ever…"

"That was six years ago, Leo," Don pointed out.

"Six years isn't – that isn't a lot of time!"

Donatello reached out and put his hands on Leonardo's shoulders. He felt the tension held there slowly sapping away. Leo's hard, muscular shoulders had been rigid and unyielding, but now they slumped in defeat.

"What in the world are you going to tell Mikey?" Leo wondered harshly, his face turned sharply aside. "He'll be devastated."

"Mikey's resilient," Don explained calmly. "And optimistic by nature. To be honest, I was a lot more worried about you."

"It's just," Leo whispered roughly. He folded his arms across his chest and looked with sorrow across the wind-rippled water. "What will we do without you? What will I…"

His throat closed and his face contorted. Donatello pulled him into a fierce embrace.

Leonardo buried his beak in the crook of his brother's neck and growled, "This is about April! Don't you tell me that it isn't!"

"April," Donatello tried to explain with a sharp twinge, that old, familiar pain which he had been unable to banish for the better part of decade, "April Jones doesn't need me to be happy. And I've been miserable for years. It's time, Leo. I need this." He pulled away enough to look at Leonardo, forcing his brother's gaze. "It's time for me to chase a different dream."