Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 1987

End Game

By Lucky_Ladybug

Notes: The characters are not mine and the story is! I've had the basic concept in mind for months, but it only really came together when ThickerThanLove suggested that the lightning gun weapon from the TaleSpin pilot Plunder and Lightning would make an excellent weapon for Shredder and Krang to use. This is part of my Exit the Fly verse. Baxter is human again and an ally of the Turtles. His brother Barney works for Shredder.

Barney and Krang walked through the corridors of the Technodrome as they talked. All around them, the fortress's machines whirred and purred and worked hard to keep all the necessary functions going at full power. The whirring and purring often degraded to squeaks and squeals as full power proved impossible. Overhead, the electricity flickered off and on, unable to stay steady.

Barney didn't glance up at the lights, but he was aware of their behavior all the same. "You said you had a plan to permanently fix this," he said. "What is it?"

Krang looked to him. "Are you familiar with the device known as a sub-electron amplifier?"

"Of course I am," Barney retorted. He held onto his laptop as he haughtily said, "A sub-electron amplifier produces incredible amounts of electricity. It's highly efficient for keeping large-scale plants and buildings running all by themselves, without the need for utilizing the services of an electric company."

"Good," Krang warbled. "I want you to make a sub-electron amplifier that we can use here."

"That's an excellent idea," Barney smirked. "But building such a thing will require a great deal of resources."

"I'm aware of that!" Krang snapped.

They reached Barney's laboratory and he opened the door for them before setting his laptop on his favorite table. He left the lid down, not wanting Krang to see anything of the laptop's contents even though he knew Vincent wouldn't reveal his presence.

Krang marched in, looking very sure of and pleased with himself. "Along with the energy source they're collecting tonight, I'm having Bebop and Rocksteady acquire the first batch of parts you'll need."

"Well," Barney said with a raised eyebrow. "You were quite confident of my answer."

"I was sure you couldn't resist the prospect of such a scientific achievement," Krang grinned.

"And we're here now, Krang," Bebop said from the corridor.

"Well, then come in!" Krang retorted.

The mutants entered, carrying armloads of pieces and parts.

"Set them down here," Barney directed, indicating a mostly bare table against the wall with the door.

They did so. "You're really gonna make this thing, Barney?" Bebop asked.

"And why not?" Barney answered. "It's something we sorely need."

"If you say so," Rocksteady shrugged.

Krang watched as they departed. "How soon do you think it will be ready?"

"Such a powerful creation takes time," Barney said. "But barring any delays, I would say I could have it ready within . . . shall we say, two weeks?"

"Excellent!" Krang smiled a toothy smile and turned to head for the door as well. "You'll keep me updated on your progress."

"Naturally." Barney shut the door and turned to look at the collection of parts.

"A sub-electron amplifier is a highly powerful and dangerous device."

Barney frowned, turning to look as Vincent spoke. "Of course it is, if you don't know what you're doing," he retorted, lifting the lid on the laptop. "I know what I'm doing."

Vincent looked to him. "And so does Krang, I'm sure. Why do you think he asked you to make it instead of doing it himself?"

"Why does he ever ask me to build anything?" Barney scoffed. "With his knowledge, he could probably make any of these things himself. Apparently he wants that time to do something else."

"Yes, but what?" Vincent paused. "And in the case of this particular device, Krang must know that even just assembling it is highly dangerous. He probably didn't want to expose himself to that."

"So I'm a sacrificial lamb, eh?" Barney said with a dry sneer. "If I die trying, it's no big loss to him."

"You said that," Vincent replied. "I didn't."

"I know how to be careful." Barney reached into a drawer and pulled out a pair of rubber gloves. "This is how you properly begin to build a sub-electron amplifier."

xxxx

Shredder looked over as Krang came back into the main control room. "Well?"

"He's going to build it, of course," Krang smiled. "I just had to stroke his ego and he was ready to jump right in."

"But you didn't tell him what it's really for," Shredder continued.

"Like I said in here, I insisted it was for keeping the electricity going on the Technodrome," Krang said. "He believed it." He settled into his favorite chair. "But I still think you're wrong, Shredder. He won't have any problems with our plans."

"We both suspect that he still loves his brother," Shredder retorted. "Any one of our blasts could kill that pathetic worm."

"Then we'll tell him that his brother will be safe," Krang said with an impatient and bored wave of a tentacle. "We won't blast any place where he's likely to be. Baxter is the only one he cares about. It won't bother him if we go after complete strangers."

"I don't trust that. And in any case, maybe he'll try to warn Baxter," Shredder scowled.

"He won't know what the sub-electron amplifier is really for until it's too late to warn anybody," Krang insisted. "I've been building it in secret in the Dansing skyscraper. There's a retractable platform in there that's perfect for our purposes."

Shredder still looked doubtful. "I know that the Dansing Building is currently vacant because of some idiotic argument between the prospective tenants, but what if it gets resolved before Barney is finished?"

"It won't," Krang said flatly. "Barney said he can have it done in two weeks. I'm sure he can. Maybe even sooner. And then . . ." His purple eyes gleamed. "Then the city will be ours."

xxxx

Baxter looked through the morning's emails from his desktop computer. There were several emails from strangers, but they were harmless. Today there were no obscene messages, no hate mail, no threats against his life. And he wouldn't have to worry about finding another envelope or box with fly parts on his doorstep that night.

The week he had spent being stalked had been one of the longest of his life. But it was over, and by now almost a week had passed since Barney had stopped the culprit from murdering him. It was hard to believe time had gone by that quickly.

He and Barney had communicated through a couple of brief emails since then, but for the most part Barney had been inaccessible. He had told Baxter he was busy, that he had to finish something he had put off last week. And Baxter had sighed and consented. Whatever it was, it was something Krang wanted, he was sure.

The cargo from the ships was still missing. Barney still insisted he didn't know what it was or where it was, but that the Foot Soldiers had been removing more and more of it from the Technodrome. Obviously Krang and Shredder were planning something big. And the fact that Barney had not been let in on it was a concern to both brothers.

With every day that passed, Baxter worried about Barney more and more. Surely Shredder and Krang were getting wise by now. Surely they suspected that Barney had been working against them. And when they knew for sure, surely Barney would . . .

Baxter looked away. He didn't want to think about it.

He shut off the computer and got up. It was time for work.

xxxx

Everything was dark and cold. It was night, but the darkness went deeper than the time of day. It chilled him to his very core.

"Guys?" he called. "Baxter?" His voice echoed in the eerie blackness.

Suddenly the night erupted in a horrific burst of angry red. He was thrown back, spinning on his shell. At the same moment, a pained scream cut through the noise of the explosion. A familiar scream. . . .

"Baxter!" He leaped up, running through the fiery mess. "Baxter, where are you, Bud?!"

Agonized sobbing was all around him. But no matter where he ran, and how well he could hear the cries, he couldn't find his friend.

Michelangelo snapped awake, flying upright on the couch. "Oh, mondo weird," he gasped. "What the heck was that?!"

"What was what, Michelangelo?" Leonardo asked as he passed by the living room with the other Turtles.

"I just had a super uncool dream," Michelangelo explained.

"Was Vinnie's out of pizza again?" Raphael giggled.

Michelangelo scowled. "No, Dude, it wasn't anything like that." He folded his arms. "It was a maximum bummer. For real. It wasn't about food."

Donatello regarded him in concern. "What was it, Michelangelo?"

"Aww, why should I tell you?" Michelangelo retorted. "You never believe my premonitions mean anything anyway. Even when they come true."

Raphael blinked. "Hey, you're really serious, aren't you."

Now Leonardo was worried. He came into the living room and sat on the couch next to Michelangelo. "Do you really feel that this dream was a premonition?"

Michelangelo looked down. "I don't know. I'd rather think I ate too much butterscotch and pickle pizza, because if it is gonna come true, it's awful." He shuddered. "It was night and I was looking for you guys and Baxter, and then there was this mondo big explosion and Baxter screamed . . ." He clenched his fists on his knees. "I kept calling for him, but I couldn't find him. I could just hear him crying somewhere . . . everywhere. . . ."

"That does sound like a very troubling dream." Splinter was in the doorway now. He walked in and came to stand in front of Michelangelo on the couch. "What does your heart tell you, my student?"

Michelangelo bit his lip. "Honestly, Sensei, it's got me so shook up I'm not sure I can listen to anything my heart's saying. But it . . . just really didn't feel like an average old nightmare. I felt like I was living it, that it was real and happening all around me."

"And some dreams feel like that," Donatello said. "It doesn't mean there's anything to them."

"And there was also this feeling that . . . that it was gonna happen real soon," Michelangelo continued.

"Aww, come on," Raphael said suddenly. "This is Michelangelo we're talking about! He has nightmares all the time that don't mean anything!" But even as he spoke, his eyes flickered. He was troubled.

Michelangelo raised his head. "And what about Mondo Gecko?" he retorted. "All those dreams I had about him came true, didn't they?"

Caught, Raphael looked away. "Well . . ."

"And that time I got a funny feeling that we'd almost bought the big one," Michelangelo went on. "That was when Krang was trying to vaporize part of the city! And where did we find his device?"

". . . Right at the spot where you had that feeling," Donatello remembered.

"So what if there's something to this, too?" Michelangelo got up from the couch. "What if something's gonna happen to Baxter? Maybe I'm getting the warning because . . . because I'm the closest to him or something." He started to pace. "Maybe I should stick real close to him, like we all did when he was being stalked."

Splinter watched him. "While it is not wise to believe that every dream one has means something important, it is true that there are times when a dream is important and should be paid attention to. Michelangelo, you do not often have dreams of this nature. Perhaps it would be wise to keep a close eye on Dr. Stockman for a time."

"He's coming to dinner tonight." Michelangelo stopped pacing and looked to Splinter. "Do you think I should tell him about the dream, Sensei?"

"I believe that should be your decision, my pupil," Splinter said. "But remember that Dr. Stockman is a man who believes in logic and science. I doubt if he would find a dream very logical. On the other hand, he did come to believe that the recurring nightmares he was having in the past were not simply nightmares. He might believe you, Michelangelo. However, he might become frightened by what your dream foretells."

"Yeah." Michelangelo looked down. "I don't wanna scare him, that's for sure."

"Let's just have a nice, quiet evening and see how things go," Raphael said. "We don't have to get into any mystical mumbo-jumbo unless, say, he brings it up himself. Which he probably won't."

Leonardo nodded. "And we can watch over him. Hopefully without him figuring out what we're doing."

"Gnarly," said Michelangelo. "Yeah, let's go with that for now."

xxxx

"I still don't like this, Barney. There's something wrong here."

Barney set the laptop on the table and settled down to look at the sketches and blueprints all around him. "The sub-electron amplifier is just a device for outputting electricity," he said. "Actually, if I could mass-produce them, they would be useful to everyone across the country. Across the world. There would be more than enough electricity everywhere, with less reliance on power plants."

"This isn't even your specialty," Vincent frowned.

"My main focus is neuropsychology, it's true. But I also studied a great deal about energy science. It's my secondary field. I can do this with relative ease."

"And this is also why you didn't want to leave Shredder and Krang's employ, isn't it?" Vincent demanded. "You want to finish this project!"

Barney's eyes narrowed. "Yes, I want to finish it. Krang has given me the equipment to be able to make it. It was always something I wanted to try. I attempted to make one in college, but I badly failed because of a lack of proper supplies."

The lights on the bottom of the laptop flashed quickly and repeatedly, as though the device was engaged in a memory-hogging task. Vincent was upset. "You're selfish, Barney. All of your words, all of your feelings . . . ! You acted like you were really moved by Baxter's plight when he was so terrified of those Frogs! And he was only in that plight because of his worry for you! You've acted like you wanted to get out, that you only stayed because you were afraid and because you wanted to help Baxter from the inside. Now you're staying because you want to make a failed scientific project work?! I can't believe Baxter and I have been wrong about you after all, but . . ."

Barney looked away. If he was hurt by those words, he didn't admit it. "If I don't make it, Krang will just find someone else who will," he said. "And maybe this other someone won't care what it's used for. If I make it, I may be able to learn whether it's really going to keep our electricity running or not. We both know a sub-electron amplifier is a highly dangerous and unstable device if used improperly. If Krang attempts to use it for something other than powering our electricity, I will know it and I may be able to stop it."

". . . Oh no." Vincent stared at Barney. "It would also be highly dangerous to stop it, wouldn't it?"

"That would depend on what other usage Krang might find for it," Barney said. But from the way he said it, the real answer was obvious.

Vincent sadly watched his friend. "I'm sorry, Barney."

"Sorry for what?" Barney grunted.

"I shouldn't have called you selfish. I should have trusted you. We shouldn't have gotten into this mess in the first place, but now that we're in it . . . what you're planning to do is highly unselfish."

"What I'm planning to do," Barney answered, "is simply to unravel whatever chaos Krang may try to cause that's my fault."

xxxx

"I'd like to ask you something."

All of the Turtles and Splinter looked up, surprised as Baxter spoke. They were gathered in the Lair's living room after their hearty dinner. The Turtles had thought things had gone well, but now Baxter sounded serious.

"What is it, Baxter Dude?" Michelangelo asked.

"Barney said something the other night that troubled me." Baxter looked to each Turtle in turn as he spoke. His eyes said that he didn't want to hurt any of them, but he wanted answers. "He said that he was told by you that I was in a coma for days after he hit me."

All the Turtles looked away, but it was Michelangelo's eyes that filled with guilt. "That was me," he said quietly. "I said that."

"Why, Michelangelo?"

Michelangelo cringed. The disappointment in Baxter's voice hurt just as much as if he had screamed in anger. Maybe more. The last thing Michelangelo had ever wanted to do was to hurt his dear friend.

"Well . . ." Michelangelo ran a hand over his head. "It happened a long time ago, when Shredder first found out you were alive. He brought Barney with him and Barney talked to us when Shred-Head couldn't hear. He acted mondo cheesed off and didn't even seem to care that maybe you were in danger because of Shredder learning the truth. He acted like he was only concerned about himself. And . . . well . . . I got cheesed off too and I told him that lie because I thought maybe he'd act more worried about you then."

Baxter sighed. "I thought it must be something like that."

"We were all pretty cheesed off at him," Raphael spoke up. "If Michelangelo hadn't said something like that, maybe I would have."

"He still didn't act like we hoped he would, though," Michelangelo said sadly. "We were all debating for a long time if we should tell you how he was acting. But then Master Splinter reminded us that Barney was real aloof and he'd put himself in danger by lying to Krang, so we needed to always keep that in mind even if he acted like he didn't care."

Leonardo nodded. "We listened to him and we didn't tell you, Baxter."

"I appreciate your concern," Baxter said sincerely. "You've all been such loyal friends to me, far better than someone like me ever deserved. But I wish you had told Barney that you were lying. He's been haunted by it ever since."

"Then why didn't he say something?!" Raphael burst out. "He never once asked you anything about it!"

"Maybe he felt that there was no point, since he believed it was the truth," Baxter said. "Maybe he couldn't bring himself to know more."

Michelangelo finally looked up. "I'm real sorry, Baxter," he said sadly. "I wasn't trying to hurt Barney. Heck, I actually like the guy now."

Baxter smiled a bit. "I know. And I accept your apology. But I think you should also apologize to Barney."

"Yeah, I should." Michelangelo hopped up. "Could I send him an email?"

"I think something like that should be said in person," Leonardo said. "We'll probably see Barney again soon."

Baxter nodded. "I'm sure we will."

"Have you talked to him lately?" Michelangelo asked.

"I haven't seen him since he rescued me from my stalker," Baxter said. "But he contacted me the next morning via email and asked how I was doing." He smiled a bit.

"That's great, Baxter," Leonardo said.

"It is. You don't know how much I longed for Barney to care about me through the years." Wistfulness flickered in Baxter's eyes. "A kind word, a nice letter . . . something. Anything."

"Oh, and after 43 years of hating your guts, he suddenly doesn't," Raphael spoke up. "And now he's Mr. Nice Guy." He looked troubled. "What about how he didn't help you when you got thrown in the asylum?!"

Baxter shook his head. "It will always hurt that he didn't. And part of me will probably never understand. But I don't want to live in the past, Raphael. Barney isn't that person anymore. You accepted that I've changed. I've accepted that he has. You don't know him like I do. Reaching out to me has been very difficult for him. But he wants to now, and that means the world to me."

"And now you'll be all buddy-buddy, best brothers forever, and all that jazz?" Raphael scoffed.

"No," Baxter replied. "I don't feel I can confide in him. Maybe I never will. It takes a long time to fully rebuild trust that was shattered when we were eight years old. But he's shown that he absolutely can't handle what he did to me. It's been tearing him up inside for who knows how long. How can I not forgive him? Even to continue extending new trust to him? He's saved my life more than once lately. For the first time in our lives, he . . . he wants to be my brother." His voice cracked with emotion. "You don't know how hard I used to pray for that before I gave up."

Raphael looked away. "All I can say is, you're a bigger man than I could be. If I'd had the kind of relationship with anybody that you've had with Barney, I wouldn't trust them no matter what!"

"Even if something happened like what happened the other night?" Baxter said softly.

"Not even then," Raphael insisted. But his voice wavered.

"I felt awfully bad for Barney when he started carrying on like that," Michelangelo said. "It was like he was pounding on himself instead of that creepazoid."

"All of those feelings, that guilt . . . they had to come out sometime," Baxter said. "Seeing someone else trying to hurt me as he had hurt me tipped him over the edge."

"Well, too bad for him," said Raphael. "If he hadn't hurt you in the first place, he wouldn't have needed to tip over the edge."

"No, he wouldn't have," Baxter agreed. "Barney is still a very troubled person. But even if you can't admit it aloud, surely you've seen how he's changed."

"I've seen how he's seemed to change," Raphael answered. "And okay, if I have to come right down to it, yeah, him saving you was pretty impressive. But he's looked out for himself almost all of his life. What's he going to do if someday a situation crops up where it's either do the wrong thing and live or do the right thing and . . ."

"Raphael!" Splinter interrupted.

Raphael flinched. Splinter looked displeased and Baxter looked shaken. Raphael frowned, folding his arms as he averted his gaze. "I'm sorry, Sensei, Baxter. Maybe I'm getting carried away. I just keep worrying and wondering how far we can trust this guy. I don't want any of us to get hurt. Especially you, Baxter, since you're thinking he's so great and all."

"Thank you for your concern, Raphael," Baxter said quietly. "But I will continue to trust Barney. He needs someone to trust him now."

"For sure, Dude," Michelangelo said. "And I trust him too."

"Well, that's no surprise," Raphael retorted. "The two who should trust him the least trust him the most."

"What do you think, Sensei?" Leonardo asked.

"Hmm." Splinter looked thoughtful. "I believe that Barney just may be a diamond in the rough. His true nature is beginning to shine. But when it comes to diamonds . . ." He paused. ". . . They must go through an enormous amount of pressure and heat before their value fully comes out."

"I would say that Barney has already gone through more than his share of both," Baxter said.

Splinter nodded. "But in his present circumstance, more may yet await him. We will wait and see."

xxxx

The work on the sub-electron amplifier was long and tedious. Sometimes Barney wanted to operate in silence. Other times, he wanted Vincent to talk to him. He didn't always answer back, but he listened.

"I always talked to Baxter when we were together," Vincent mused. "I tried to encourage him and praise him any chance I could. I hoped it would keep him anchored to reality and sanity as much as was possible back then. Everyone else always put him down."

"And did your praise help?" Barney asked.

"I don't know." Vincent paused. "But it made him happy whenever he was able to focus on it."

Barney frowned, tightening a screw. "You were always being thrown into other dimensions," he said. "What did Baxter do for food?"

"Sometimes he couldn't do anything," Vincent said quietly. "It wasn't bad enough that he was fused with a fly and was slowly losing his mind day by day. He was also starving." Anger flashed through his eyes. "Everything started to look like food to him because he was so desperately hungry."

The screwdriver clattered to the table. "I should have been there for him," Barney said in dismay. "I reviled and rejected him when he came to me."

"I thought you tried to help him in spite of your feelings," Vincent frowned.

"I did," Barney conceded. "But I failed. I couldn't build a successful retro-mutagen ray gun at that point in time. Baxter accused me of doing it on purpose. I believe I was hurt by that, but I had no right to be. Not after the way I'd treated him before that." He shook his head. "At least I gave him food."

"For some reason, the Turtles never seemed to understand how badly he was suffering," Vincent said. "And yet they finally helped him after he was turned human again."

"I guess because by that point it was obvious that he was suffering, even to them," Barney grunted. "My sins are worse; I knew and I locked that knowledge inside my mind where I didn't have to face it."

"You're acknowledging it now."

"Now it doesn't matter."

"In this respect it matters," Vincent answered. "You're facing what you weren't willing to face before. That's another step in the right direction, Buddy."

"Is that the sort of praise you'd give to Baxter?" Barney wondered.

"Sometimes," Vincent said. "Or I'd praise him for coming up with ideas . . . even if he actually hadn't and it was an innocent coincidence that something he was doing gave me an idea."

"You'd give him all the credit?" Barney raised an eyebrow.

"I hoped it would help his self-confidence," Vincent explained. "Poor Baxter was so far gone, he didn't realize the truth."

"It must be strange for you to see him now," Barney mused. "Actually sane, intelligent, able to make his own ideas and decisions. . . ."

"Strange, yes," Vincent said. "But in a good way. It's what he wanted and what I wanted for him."

"But he doesn't need you now," Barney pointed out.

"Friends aren't only friends out of necessity," Vincent retorted. "Maybe it started out that way for us, but we came to mean so much more to each other than that. Or at least . . . Baxter did for me."

"I'm sure you did for Baxter too," Barney said. "He was always starved for love. To have it from anyone, even a computer, would make him endlessly happy and loyal."

Vincent smiled a bit and then looked to the device Barney was constructing. "How close are you to actually making the sub-electron amplifier?"

"Quite close. Within a day, I should be able to begin simulating conditions to properly form it and begin infusing it with the electricity it needs to absorb to begin its own independent production." Barney leaned on the top of the square object, still holding the screwdriver.

"And that's when it really becomes dangerous," Vincent worried.

"Not if you take the proper precautions and are careful about the amount of electricity you're feeding into the growing amplifier at any one time. Naturally if you give it too much, it will explode in the oven and take out a good deal of the surrounding area too."

Vincent looked uneasy. "I trust you and all, Buddy, but maybe I'd rather not be too close to the oven when you get to that point."

"I wasn't going to let you be too close anyway," Barney said. "I'm confident in my abilities, but I still know this is a dangerous project. You can stay on the bed. I won't let my only friend be hurt, no matter what happens to me."

Vincent always hated when Barney started talking like that. "If something happens to you, that will hurt me," he replied.

Barney paused, looking awed as he always did at those comments. Then he went back to work.

xxxx

The Turtles decided to go with Baxter back to his apartment that night. Although touched, Baxter was also surprised. "I'm not being stalked now," he said. "I'm sure I can safely make it back without an escort."

"It's no trouble, Dude," Michelangelo chirped. "Anyway, it gives us more time to talk."

Baxter pondered. "It's funny, the things you remember when you're not even trying to," he mused. "I remember Barney was always interested in electrical and other energy sciences. I heard him say once that he wished he could create a device that could power people's electricity for months without needing a recharge. He said scientists had already developed it in Florida and he wanted to go with the same principles but make his own."

"Oh brother, does that thing sound bad in the wrong hands," Raphael commented.

"Shredder and Krang would love to get their hands on it," Leonardo agreed. "It could probably keep the Technodrome running indefinitely!"

"Barney tried to make one, actually," Baxter recalled. "But something went wrong and he got in a lot of trouble at college because of an explosion that happened when he tried. He always maintained it wasn't his fault, but the school's for not having the right equipment." He frowned. "I remember this girl who had seemed to like him was the main one who got him in trouble."

"Why the heck did she do that?" Michelangelo frowned. "That's mondo uncool."

"I believe she was angry because he rejected her advances," Baxter said. "If you think I've never been interested in romance, you should have seen Barney." He chuckled softly. "Some of the students started calling Barney 'Tesla' because like that genius inventor, he absolutely didn't want a thing to do with romance. He felt it would interfere with his work. And I've felt that way to some extent, I'll admit, but Barney really turned it into an art."

"So Barney wouldn't date that girl and she decided to ruin him?" Michelangelo still looked troubled.

"We should probably all be glad we're turtles and there likely won't ever be a situation like that for any of us," Raphael intoned.

"I'm guessing your parents probably weren't happy, either," Leonardo remarked.

"They weren't," Baxter agreed. "As I've said, they wanted us to be proper society men. They also wanted us to marry into proper society families." He went red. "They were still trying to set me up on dates in college, but Barney never let them do that to him. Barney never let anyone do anything to him that he didn't like."

"Well, he must have mellowed out in his old age, since he stays with Shredder and Krang even though they do things to him that he doesn't like," Raphael said dryly.

Baxter looked displeased. "He stays to help us," he protested. "Surely you can't deny his help has been valuable on several of our latest adventures, Raphael."

Raphael sighed. "Alright. Yeah, he's been good. It was especially useful having him around on that cargo ship escapade. I still don't like him, but I can't deny that. It's just that I wonder how far he'll be willing to go to help us, like I said."

"Barney has already risked everything, multiple times," Baxter said. "He's trustworthy."

"Heh. We'll see," said Raphael.

xxxx

During the week Baxter had been stalked by a vengeful anti-mutant bigot, Barney had not accomplished anything further with the creation of the sub-electron amplifier. Once the horror was over and the man had been caught, Barney returned to his work. Although Shredder and Krang had said nothing about Barney's lack of progress, seeming instead to believe his lies that work had continued, Barney wasn't as sure they really believed it in actual fact.

Vincent watched as he leaned down, peering through the oven door at the object inside. "How is it?"

"It's coming along well," Barney smirked. He rocked back as it sparked and sizzled behind the glass.

"You don't think it's going to overload and blow up the oven?"

"It doesn't look like it. Of course, you can never be too careful with a sub-electron amplifier." Barney straightened and stepped back.

"And what about all those stolen crates that are being removed from the Technodrome?" Vincent said in concern. "What do you think Krang's doing with them?"

Barney hesitated. "When we hacked into the shipping company's files and saw the contents of the stolen crates, it didn't help a great deal. Krang could be building any one of several machines, all of them dangerous."

"The question is, do you think the sub-electron amplifier is going to be used with whatever it is?"

"Well, that's the $64,000 question, isn't it," Barney grunted. "We'll know soon."

"Baxter doesn't know what you're making, does he."

"I didn't feel that was information he needed to know right now." Barney folded his arms. "If he needs to know it, he will."

xxxx

When Baxter arrived at work the next day, he found Vernon leaning on Irma's desk as they quietly talked. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but as he approached, they both looked over.

"Good morning, Dr. Stockman," Vernon greeted.

"Hi," Irma added.

"Hello." Baxter smiled at them both.

"There hasn't been any news about a Shredder plot, has there?" Irma asked. "Mr. Thompson's getting restless for a new hot story."

"Yes, he's been breathing down our necks about it for the last couple of days," Vernon moaned.

"I haven't heard about any new Shredder plots," Baxter answered. "And that's perfectly fine with me. I worry so much about my brother whenever Shredder tries something."

"That's true," Vernon frowned.

"There must be other stories Mr. Thompson could focus on," Baxter said. "This is New York. There's always something unusual happening."

"It doesn't get more unusual than Shredder and Krang's plots," Irma said. "Oh, unless there's some mad scientist trying to blow up the world or some fiendish criminal organization trying to conquer it before Shredder and Krang do or some new mutant running around." She crossed her arms on the edge of her desk. "I think the most interesting thing happening today is that a bunch of out-of-town U.N.C.L.E. agents are in the city. I guess they're having some big meeting or something, unless some political bigwig's showing up all hush-hush-like."

"Which is possible," Baxter said.

"Mr. Thompson's assigned April to cover it," Vernon said. "She's hoping to stumble into some exciting spy plot." He shuddered. "She's welcome to it! I didn't want the assignment at all."

"It's probably just a luncheon or something," Irma said. "But at least it's a story."

"And hopefully an U.N.C.L.E. luncheon is indeed the most eventful thing that will be happening today," Baxter remarked as he headed on to his office.

xxxx

It was that afternoon, following a long morning of preliminary tests, when Barney leaned back and removed his welder's mask as he smirked in triumph and relief. "There," he told Vincent. "It's finished."

"I guess it really is," Vincent remarked. "You managed to power everything in the laboratory that runs on electricity, all by connecting it with the sub-electron amplifier."

"Strange, isn't it?" Barney mused. "To think that something so small could be so powerful."

"I just hope you know what you're doing," Vincent replied. "Neither of us really believe that Krang had you create that thing to power the electricity in the Technodrome."

"It's still possible. I just don't think it's likely." Barney reached into the oven and extracted an oblong, multi-faceted object that both sparked and glowed. "It's fascinating. A sub-electron amplifier, or in lay terms, a lightning stone."

Vincent sighed. "I know you're pleased with yourself for successfully crafting it. And yes, it's impressive. But there's a reason they're so rare."

"They're unstable and dangerous. And they can never be touched with one's bare hands." Barney was wearing an elbow-length rubber glove on the hand holding the stone. "However, Krang is a risk-taker. It's conceivable that he wanted to try this solution in the Technodrome because he knew it would generate enough electricity to keep it running without having to go to the surface every few weeks."

"And if he doesn't?"

Barney sighed now, his shoulders slumping. "Then God help this city."

Krang knocked right about then. "Oh Barney! How is the sub-electron amplifier coming along?"

Barney got up and went to the door, still holding it in his gloved hand. "It's ready, actually," he said as he opened the door. "I have just concluded the initial tests on its electricity production."

Krang focused on the red object and his eyes gleamed. "Excellent! Then bring it here, Barney. Shredder and I have something to show you."

Barney bade a silent Goodbye to Vincent before following Krang into the corridor and to the main control room. But when Krang headed for a transport module, Barney's stomach turned. "Where are you going?"

"Come on," Krang gestured.

Barney plodded after him, following him into the module. Shredder was already there, waiting. "So, it's finished?" he said. The same gleam was in his eyes.

"Yes," Barney said coolly. "And now we're going for a ride?"

"A very special ride," Krang smiled.

Shredder programmed the coordinates and they were off.

Moments later they emerged inside what seemed to be a vacant office building. Barney got out of the module, looking about with wary eyes. "Where are we?"

"The Dansing Building," Krang said. "There's something we want to show you." He headed over to what looked like the elevator and pushed a button. When the door slid open, Barney stared into the shaft in stunned amazement.

There wasn't an elevator. At least, not the kind he had expected. Instead, there was a strange platform with a metal railing on all sides. Within the platform was a bizarre object the likes of which Barney had never before seen. The only way he could think to describe it was as some sort of giant gun, large enough for someone to sit on it and man the controls. The sphere-like barrel looked to him like something with which to conduct electricity.

His eyes went to the object in his hand. "A lightning gun," he deduced with a gasp.

"Yes!" Krang exclaimed, looking pleased that Barney understood. "A lightning gun. And the beautiful sub-electron amplifier you hold in your hand is the final piece necessary to make it operational." He took it from Barney before Barney could so much as utter a protest. After walking through the door in the railing and over to the lightning gun, he placed the stone in a visible spot near the controls. It sparked and sizzled as it quickly settled into place.

Barney took in the entire structure, mentally calculating what he would have to do to remove the stone. Outwardly he tried to keep his expression as neutral as possible, while inside he felt like a cyclone was brewing. He knew the level of destruction such a machine could cause. He knew that Krang knew it too. "And what are you planning to do with my lightning stone and your lightning gun?" he asked at last.

"We're going to deliver the ultimate form of devastation to the city!" Krang exclaimed. "If they won't turn control of New York over to us, we start blasting things down until they do. Roads, bridges, buildings . . . !" He chortled. "One blast from this lightning gun can bring down an entire skyscraper!"

Barney felt sick. "With countless people inside, I imagine."

"Of course," Shredder sneered. "That's the whole point." He folded his arms. "Does that bother you?"

Barney swallowed hard. Somehow he had to keep acting. The only way he could stop this atrocity was if he let them think he was on their side just a little while longer. If he revealed the truth, he would be killed and there would be no chance to stop the plot before who knew how many people died.

"Of course not," he scoffed. "Except for one thing. . . . You'll leave the Channel 6 building alone, won't you? The . . . transmitting equipment is so high-tech, it would be foolhardy to destroy it."

Krang sneered too. "There's no need for that act any more, Barney. We know you love your brother. We saw you save him the other night. Naturally you don't want his workplace destroyed, especially since he might be there at the time. You've been good to us, so we'll do you that favor. We won't knowingly blow up any location where Baxter is likely to be."

". . . Thank you," Barney said with some measure of genuine relief. He looked from Krang to Shredder. "It . . . doesn't bother you?"

"Well, I am disappointed that you're just another soft-hearted fool," Shredder said mockingly. "And here I had thought you were a man after my own heart where family is concerned. But as long as you don't let your love interfere with your work, we'll let it slide."

"I won't," Barney insisted. "You'll see."

"Yes," Krang purred. "We will."

"When are you going to use the lightning gun?" Barney queried.

"Tonight," Krang smiled. "We'll do a couple of test runs and then launch right into our ultimatum. There's also a speaker system on this platform. We'll use it to broadcast our desires throughout the city."

"And I'll be present, of course," Barney said.

"Of course," Krang said. "Maybe we'll even let you use the gun once or twice."

"That would be a high honor," Shredder said, still mocking.

"Naturally," Barney responded dryly, "since you couldn't even operate it without my lightning stone."

Shredder's smug expression darkened. He could never seem to best Barney's wit. And unfortunately, right now he had a point.

Barney smirked at him as he walked past, slipping the rubber glove off of his hand and into his pocket. He would likely need it for later.

xxxx

Michelangelo yelped as he rolled off the sofa and onto the floor of the Lair's living room. Immediately the others present came running.

"Michelangelo, what happened?!" Donatello exclaimed.

Michelangelo groaned and sat up, draping one arm on the couch cushions. "It was that dream again," he said.

"The same one?!" Raphael said in disbelief.

"Yeah." Michelangelo took out his Turtle-Comm. "Only it felt . . . closer . . . this time, if that makes any sense."

"Michelangelo, the great majority of what you say never makes sense," Raphael responded as he folded his arms.

Michelangelo scowled before continuing, "I guess what I mean is, it felt more real and less like a dream. And it felt more . . . urgent. Like whatever it's talking about is coming up right away."

"Well, that's disturbing," Donatello frowned.

Michelangelo took out his Turtle-Comm. "Leonardo's supposed to be taking a shift keeping an eye on Baxter. I'm gonna check in with him."

Leonardo didn't sound worried when he answered. "Hello, Michelangelo. Everything seems fine here. Baxter's just peacefully working. I don't think he's noticed I'm here. I'm out on the ledge looking in his office window."

"Well, I just had that dream again," Michelangelo said. "It felt more urgent or something this time. It's almost time to change shifts. I'd like to take over."

"Sure thing," Leonardo said. "But I'm not sure anything is even going to happen."

"I'd, like, rather be safe than sorry, Dude," Michelangelo said.

"As would we all," Splinter said quietly in the background.

xxxx

Michelangelo decided to take a different approach than Leonardo. Once he arrived at Channel 6 and Leonardo had left, he headed up to Baxter's office and knocked.

"Come in," Baxter called.

He was surprised when Michelangelo walked in. "Hello, Michelangelo," he greeted.

"Hey, Baxter Dude." Michelangelo shifted. "Are you, uh, okay? I mean, is everything alright here?"

"Yes," Baxter blinked. "Why? Is Shredder causing trouble again?"

Michelangelo looked uncomfortable. "No . . . not exactly. . . ." He walked in farther and sat down on a chair.

"Michelangelo . . ." Baxter looked both kind and concerned. "What is it?"

"I'm just worried, is all," Michelangelo said. "I mean, after that creepazoid stalked you and everything. . . ."

Baxter shuddered. "Well, that's over now, thank God."

"Did you ever decide whether to press charges or not?" Michelangelo asked.

"I don't really like to," Baxter said. "Not when I know how it feels to want revenge."

"You never wanted to kill anybody, though," Michelangelo said.

Baxter raised an eyebrow. "You can say that after I assisted Shredder on several evil schemes and later put you and the others into a deathtrap to try to lure Shredder out?"

"Sure, you assisted him, but I don't think you really wanted anyone to get hurt," Michelangelo said. "Maybe deep down, you always figured we'd be able to break out of whatever Shred-Head tried to do to us. And anyway, you were pretty much nutzoid then. Sane people don't cackle like you were doing when you chased us with your Ratcatcher. And as for the deathtrap, hey, you said it yourself-you were trying to lure Shredder out. You weren't even after us! I like to think that you wouldn't have even done it if you weren't trying to get Shredder. You probably figured he'd show up and set us free and then you'd get your revenge on him. And as I remember, your revenge never had anything to do with trying to kill him."

"There are fates worse than death," Baxter said. "And in any case, I have vague memories of ranting about killing Shredder and Krang." He sighed. "But maybe you're right. I'd like to believe so, anyway. Even if I ranted, in actual practice I seemed to try other methods of revenge."

"So this nutcase that came after you was way more involved and vicious than you ever were," Michelangelo said. "Even after you cracked up, I just can't see you sending sick emails or putting boxes with creature parts on anyone's doorstep."

Baxter cringed. "You're right," he acknowledged. "I don't think I could have ever done that." He leaned back. "And it really does trouble me that that man hurt someone besides me." He hesitated. "But there's also the problem of Barney as a material witness. If I press charges, he'll have to give a far more detailed and involved testimony than he would for the charge of assaulting that security guard. I don't think he'd be at all comfortable testifying in court." He frowned. "And maybe he couldn't anyway, since he's been in prison. . . ."

"I think he'd be glad to testify, if they'd have him," Michelangelo said. "You know he really wanted to get that guy put away."

"And what if the man's lawyer brought up how Barney started attacking his client with the crowbar and screaming things that didn't make sense?" Baxter shuddered. "He'd probably make Barney look completely insane. Maybe they'd even make him go through psychiatric tests or . . ." He shook his head. "I can't do anything that might make Barney get thrown in the insane asylum. They did it to me; they could do it to him."

"Well, I guess you've already made up your mind then," Michelangelo said. "I can't blame you for worrying about Barney."

Baxter smiled a bit, then sighed. "You're sure nothing is wrong, Michelangelo? You don't usually come visiting like this."

"Do you feel like something might be wrong?" Michelangelo asked.

That brought a frown. "To be honest, I have had an uneasy feeling all day. I don't know why."

Now Michelangelo was emboldened. "Actually, Baxter, I've started having this mondo bizarro recurring dream," he said. "It's night and there's this big explosion and . . . you get hurt or something. You scream and then you're crying somewhere. . . . I'm trying to find you, but I can't."

Baxter gripped the edge of his desk. "How many times have you had that dream?"

"Several now. It came on yesterday and I have it every time I go to sleep. To tell you the truth, I'm pretty beat." Michelangelo rubbed an eye.

"I don't like the sound of that," Baxter said. "The insomnia or the dream. Normally I'd say it was nothing, but it seems like every time I've had an ill feeling, I've discovered there's a very good reason for it."

"Same with me and these kinda dreams and stuff. What do you think we should do?" Michelangelo asked.

"What does Splinter think we should do?" Baxter countered.

"He thinks we should be 'very cautious,'" Michelangelo said.

"Then we will be," Baxter nodded. "And maybe I'll email Barney and see if he's alright. We've been worrying that Shredder and Krang are planning something big. Maybe now they're about to unleash it." He looked agonized. "I didn't want Barney to be there when that happened! . . ."

"Yeah, I know," Michelangelo frowned. "You go ahead and contact him, Amigo. I'll just sit here and be quiet so you can work."

"I will," Baxter promised. "And . . . thank you, Michelangelo."

"Aww, it's nothing," Michelangelo said.

"I don't mean about being quiet," Baxter said in amusement.

"Me either," Michelangelo replied. "I like to be here for my buds."

xxxx

Vincent looked up, both relieved and worried, when Barney entered the laboratory. Seeing his stricken expression, Vincent knew it was bad before anything was said.

"Let me see the calculations on the sub-electron amplifier's power levels," Barney said without even a Hello.

Vincent complied. "What is it, Barney?"

Not replying, Barney instead scanned through the figures, his expression grim. "It's just as I thought." He collapsed in the chair. "I'm glad I stuck around to build the device myself. I hate to think what would be happening if Krang had found someone else to do it."

"Barney, please tell me what's wrong!" Vincent cried.

Barney heaved a sigh. "Krang built a lightning gun. It can conduct and project the sub-electron amplifier's power in a highly destructive manner. It can decimate roads, even buildings, with a single blast." He looked directly at his friend. "Vincent, we're talking mass murder. Krang is going to sign the death warrants of hundreds, probably thousands, of people if that machine and the amplifier aren't destroyed."

"Oh no." The lights on the laptop were rapidly flickering again. "Tell me what to do."

"I made some calculations about the lightning gun's size and probable power," Barney said. "Start adding up these figures."

Vincent worked as Barney spoke, and although Barney had him go over it several different times, the end result was always the same. Barney was left staring at the screen, again not speaking for a long time.

"Barney, what are you going to do?" Vincent said at last. "There's only hours before the test! And these power levels are incredible for Earth technology. I don't know how you're going to destroy the lightning gun without taking out the entire city block!"

Barney was silent for another long moment. Then something flickered in his eyes. He knew what his plan had to be. He leaned forward, typing a quick email to Baxter.

Baxter,

I can't explain right now, but the buildings surrounding the Dansing Building must be evacuated. Do anything you have to in order to get those people out of there before nightfall. Maybe it's not necessary, but just in case it is, do it.

Barney

"Is that your plan?!" Vincent exclaimed. "Blowing up the lightning gun and taking out everything in the surrounding area?!"

"No," Barney said quietly. "There's one other way I might be able to destroy it. One other way. . . ."

He opened a word processor and started to type something else. Vincent observed, stunned. Barney was pouring out his heart and soul to someone unnamed who was obviously Baxter. For a long time he sat there, struggling over what amounted to three paragraphs. Then, growling to himself, he hit the Close button for the word processor. When it asked him if he wanted to save, he clicked No.

Vincent frowned. He was starting to suspect what was going on, although he wanted with every fibre of his being to deny it. And he was sure that Baxter would want the contents of that message, even if Barney had decided not to finish it and let him see.

Nothing could be permanently erased from a computer. Vincent quietly brought it back and saved it under a filename only he would understand.

Barney didn't notice. He stood, sweeping his hair out from where some of it had become stuck under the collar of his lab coat. For a moment he just remained there, staring down at the laptop. Then, carefully, he picked it up and headed for the door.

"Barney, where are we going?" Vincent asked.

"To Baxter's," Barney replied.

He was relieved when Shredder and Krang were not in the main control room. They were probably elsewhere, happily plotting the destruction of tonight. Maybe they were in Krang's map room, determining the places that would be the hardest hit by the lightning gun.

Barney's stomach turned at the thought. Hurrying into the nearest module, he typed in the coordinates for a location near Baxter's apartment and held onto the laptop on the journey upward.

xxxx

Baxter had just turned his attention to his work computer with the intent of sending Barney an email when one came through from Barney. Surprised, Baxter clicked and then just sat and stared at the contents. "What . . . ?" he whispered. "What's going on? What is this?!"

"What is it?!" Michelangelo asked in concern.

"Barney says the buildings around the Dansing Building need to be evacuated," Baxter said in dismay.

"What the heck?! Why?!" Michelangelo cried.

"I don't know," Baxter said helplessly. His hands shook as he typed a response.

Barney, what's going on? Why do those buildings need to be evacuated? How are we even going to do it if we don't have a reason to give?

Baxter

Somehow he knew: his ill feeling and Michelangelo's unpleasant dreams meant something. Barney's message only convinced him of that all the more. Something was wrong, so very wrong. And Barney wasn't answering now.

"This is, like, not good," Michelangelo frowned. "At all."

Baxter pushed back his chair and got up, hastening to the doorway. "Miss O'Neil!" he called, seeing April down the hall.

She came over, looking puzzled. "What is it, Dr. Stockman?"

"I don't know." Baxter walked back into his office and over to the computer. "Barney says the buildings around the Dansing Building must be evacuated before night, but he doesn't say why."

April followed him in and came around to look at the screen. "Barney has inside information now," she said. "If he thinks there should be an evacuation, he must have a really good reason. Maybe I can do something about setting things in motion."

"Oh, can you?" Baxter said in joyous relief.

"Just keep trying to find out what's wrong," April encouraged. "I won't be able to keep it up for very long without giving some reason why."

"You've gotta try!" Michelangelo pleaded.

"Say your information comes from an unimpeachable source," Baxter said.

April smiled a bit. "You really put a lot of faith in your brother."

"I put more as he proves he's worthy of it," Baxter said. "As you said, he has to have a good reason for this."

April headed for the door. "I'll do what I can to get the ball rolling. This sounds like a really big story! A lot more interesting than a bunch of spies having lunch," she muttered.

"Thank you, Miss O'Neil." Baxter took out his Turtle-Comm. "And now I have a call to make."

xxxx

The other Turtles were stunned by Baxter's news.

"Okay," Raphael frowned. "Why would all those buildings have to be evacuated? What's Shred-Head up to?"

"There's not much time until night," Leonardo said in concern. "We should get down there and see if we can find out what's going on."

"Good idea," said Donatello. "And maybe we should take the Turtle Blimp. We might get a better view from the sky."

Leonardo nodded. "Alright. That's going to be our plan. Let's go get the Blimp."

"Right," Raphael agreed. "Michelangelo's got the Van anyway." He twirled his sai. "And while we're at it, let's get ready to kick some shell."

xxxx

Barney arrived near Baxter's apartment building and quickly walked the rest of the way there and up the fire escape. He hadn't spoken a word on the trip, and although Vincent had tried to get him to talk at first, he had finally given up and decided the only thing to do was wait for Barney to be ready.

Barney was both relieved and exasperated to find that the window was locked. "At least he's got some sense," he muttered.

"He's probably still at work," Vincent said.

"That's just as well." Barney grudgingly turned away and descended the stairs, then entered the building through the lobby. He perked up when he saw a man coming out of the apartment marked Landlord and locking the door behind him. Still carrying Vincent, he went over. "Excuse me, Sir. . . ."

The landlord looked up and jumped a mile. "Who are you?" he asked, to Barney's surprise.

"You . . . don't know who I am?" Barney said carefully.

"I just said that, didn't I? Your hair's a different color and it's longer, but other than that, you look enough like one of my tenants to be his brother."

Barney gave him a dry smirk. "I am his brother, and I need to leave something for him in his apartment. Will you let me in?"

The landlord hesitated. "Well . . . normally I wouldn't, but I guess you're on the level. He mentioned having a brother. Acted liked he loved him, even though they weren't close."

Barney looked down. "Yes, that's true. All of it."

"Okay. Come on then." The landlord led him up the stairs to the third floor and took out his set of master keys. As he unlocked Baxter's door, he said, "Lock back up when you're done, okay? I have to get going."

"Fine. Thank you." Barney brushed past him into the apartment and gave it a cursory look as he tried to determine where to place what he was leaving behind. He wanted Baxter to see right away when he came home. Finally he went over to the long table in the living room where Baxter had his computer. "Don't get jealous," he told Vincent as he set the laptop next to the desktop model.

"Barney, what are you doing?" Vincent sounded tense.

Barney didn't answer right away. Instead he clicked into a program and typed a few short commands. "I'm disabling the link between you and my watch," he said.

"Why?" From Vincent's tone, he knew exactly why, but he still wanted to be wrong.

"It's irrelevant since you'll be right here and Baxter won't have to look for you." Barney closed the program, then opened a word processor and began to type a short message. It was very different from the one he had tried to delete earlier, but just as heartfelt.

Baxter:

I know I don't deserve it, I never have, but please forgive me one more time . . . for what I'm about to do. I know it will hurt you, and Vincent as well, but it's the only way to stop what Krang is going to do and ensure he won't have the chance to do it again any time soon.

I was such an idiot to join Shredder and Krang. You tried to tell me what would happen. So did Vincent. But I didn't listen. At first I wanted it. Later, I didn't, but I thought that ultimately, I was only hurting myself by staying and that didn't matter because it was all I deserved. I wish I had listened. Yet of late I knew I might be able to serve a useful purpose by staying in their employ and helping from the inside. Because I'm here, I may now be able to avert a tragedy that would otherwise be far more difficult to stop. But I must pay the price for it, and as a result, you and Vincent will have to pay it as well.

Krang tricked me into building the sub-electron amplifier for him. I thought he wanted it to make sure the electricity never went out on the Technodrome. Instead, he's built the monstrosity he is now going to threaten the city with: a lightning gun. Millions of people are going to die unless I stop it . . . and we both know how that has to be. An operational lightning gun is too powerful and too immovable for any other way to positively work. And it must be destroyed along with the sub-electron amplifier to keep Krang from simply starting over again.

Please forgive me, Brother.

Barney

He saved the file and stepped back, leaving it on the screen. "This will explain it. But you really knew already, didn't you?"

The screen switched to Vincent's face. "I knew, but I wanted to believe I was wrong. Barney, please don't do it! There has to be another way!"

"There isn't. You analyzed the gun yourself, and with Earth's technology, the only way to destroy the gun without destroying any other buildings is to seal it off from everything else and implode it on an upper level of the building it's in. The only way that can be done is manually, by adjusting the controls on the gun to work backwards and sending the platform to a particular level. And once it's set in place, there's barely a minute or more before it goes up. The one who reverses the gun . . . will very likely die himself. I'm sorry, Vincent." Barney backed up towards the door.

"Barney, please, no! You promised you'd find a way to get out alive!" Vincent stared after him, helpless to move, to do anything to stop his friend from walking out of his life and ending his own.

Barney gave him a sad smile. "I promised I'd try. I failed. Please forgive me for that too. You deserved better than my broken promises."

"They don't have to be broken promises!" Vincent snapped.

"You've really known for some time what was likely going to happen," Barney insisted. "We discussed the fact that I was staying on to build the sub-electron amplifier deliberately in order to stop Krang and Shredder if they tried to use it for anything other than what they told me it was going to be used for. And we both knew what might happen to me if that happened."

"I knew," Vincent agreed, "but I kept wanting to believe it wouldn't really end up this way. You're so calm about this! Are you really so calm about leaving Baxter?! Leaving me?!"

Barney looked away, gripping the doorknob. "No," he rasped. "You know I don't want to die. And I don't want to leave you. Or Baxter. But you also know how emotional I get. If I allow myself to show how I really feel . . . I might not have the strength to go through with this. And you know I have to."

"No!" Vincent pleaded. "Let's find another way, Barney. There has to be another way. It can't end like this!"

"We also always knew that my time here would end with my death. I got myself into this mess in the first place. With this situation, I have to do something decent on my way out . . . because if I don't . . . who knows how many people will die. This is my responsibility, Vincent. I can't pass it on to someone else." Barney started to open the door. He had to go, he had to get out, before the temptation to stay because too overwhelming. Every time Vincent begged him not to go, he wavered more. And he couldn't. Not when they knew the only way to stop this involved a necessary sacrifice. "Please . . . I don't want our last words to be an argument."

"And I don't want it to be our last words!" Vincent retorted. "I should be able to be calm about this. I'm a computer. I was created to be logical. But I'm losing a friend again. I already thought I'd lost you once, but then you were alright! You don't understand how badly this is hurting me. And what about how it will crush Baxter?!"

Barney flinched. ". . . The truth is that I'm not deliberately going into this to die. I won't give up, even though it looks hopeless. But I'll only have around a minute to try to escape. I know it's not likely I'll make it out. And I don't want to give false hope to you or Baxter. That would crush you both even worse."

". . . It means a lot that you will try," Vincent said quietly. "I'd rather know that, even if it does give us false hope."

"So be it then." Barney steeled himself as he looked back at his friend. "And actually, even though you're a computer, you're more human than a lot of humans. Some days . . . I think you were the only thing keeping me sane. Thank you. Goodbye, Vincent."

And he was gone.

xxxx

Baxter was preparing to leave and go out to the Dansing Building when a frantic email arrived from Barney's account. When he clicked, all color drained from his face. It wasn't an email from Barney.

Baxter, Barney's going to get himself killed! He knows what Shredder and Krang's plan is and it's devastating. He's left me at your apartment along with a letter explaining what he's going to do and why. You have to stop him, Baxter! Please. . . . There's nothing I can do. I don't want to lose my friend and your brother.

It was unsigned, but Baxter realized who had sent it. He immediately typed a reply.

Vincent, please send me a copy of Barney's letter!

Baxter

Vincent needed no encouragement. Within a minute, a document had arrived. Baxter opened and read through it, the horror building in his veins. Unfortunately, he had to admit that he didn't know of any other way to safely destroy something like a lightning gun than what Barney must have in mind. But at the same time, he refused to admit that there wasn't an alternative. It couldn't be like this. It couldn't!

Thank you, Vincent. I'll come get you and we'll go to the Dansing Building. Maybe together we can save him.

Baxter

He didn't know how he would ever do it, but he had to try. He couldn't just sit back and let this happen. He couldn't let his brother die. He leaped up from his desk.

Michelangelo, who had been down the hall getting snacks from a vending machine, came back into the room. "Hey, Baxter, where are you going?" he asked. "I should probably keep sticking close to you tonight. Because of my dreams and your feeling, you know?"

Baxter shook his head. "It's not me who needs help, Michelangelo. It's Barney."

"Whoa, what?" Michelangelo blinked.

"I'll explain on the way," Baxter said over his shoulder. "We have to get Vincent."

"Why isn't he with Barney?!" Michelangelo exclaimed.

"That's part of the problem. Barney left Vincent at my apartment because he didn't want Vincent to get hurt." As they arrived at the elevator, Baxter turned to look back at Michelangelo and his eyes were filled with anguish. "Barney believes he's going to die. And if he goes through with what he's planning, he probably will."

xxxx

Barney returned to the Technodrome in plenty of time before the big test. He was highly tense; without his laptop, he wouldn't even know if the buildings had been evacuated. He would just have to hope and pray that they either had been or that his alternate plan would work and no other buildings would have to come down.

It was around eight when Krang got up and headed for a transport module. "It's time," he said in a singsong voice. "Let's go."

"Oh boy," Bebop giggled. "We're really gonna take over the city this time!"

Barney frowned. As they got into the module and Krang began to program it, he spoke to Bebop and Rocksteady in an undertone. "Are you two really so alright with this? Don't you realize what they're going to do?"

"Yeah!" Rocksteady sneered. "They're gonna intimidate the city into doin' what we want! And with our lightning gun, there's no way we'll fail!"

"You fools," Barney hissed in disgusted frustration. "Don't you know how many people are going to die? Isn't there anyone in the city you care about? What about your families?"

Bebop froze. "Well, they wouldn't go after them, would they?"

"They're going to be attacking the city at random!" Barney explained. "Who knows who's going to get it! It could be your mother, for all we'd know!"

"Gee." Bebop looked to Rocksteady. Suddenly he wasn't as excited anymore. "I don't want them to hurt my mother."

"They'll just be aiming at big buildings and stuff," Rocksteady said. "She wouldn't be hanging out there!"

Bebop shifted. "But what if she is? Or maybe she'd be on a road that gets blown up."

"What's going on back there?!" Shredder snapped, turning to look.

"Well, Boss . . ." Bebop hesitated but then boldly pressed on. "We was just wonderin' how you and Krang are gonna keep from hurting people we care about. You know, like my mother. And hey, what about your mother?!"

"Don't worry," Krang said smoothly from the front seat. "None of your families are going to be hurt."

"There's no way he can guarantee that," Barney whispered. "He has no way of knowing who's going to be where when they attack."

Bebop looked worried now. Even Rocksteady seemed unsure.

The module came up in the lobby of the Dansing Building and Krang let the others onto the platform. With a push of a button it rose, taking them and their weapon to the roof.

"Perfect," Krang gurgled. "Look how far we can see! There are endless targets in range." He started to climb onto the lightning gun. "You make the announcement," he smirked to Shredder.

"But I want to blast something!" Shredder whined.

"You'll get your chance," Krang insisted. "Talk to the people first."

Grudgingly, Shredder grabbed the corded microphone. "Greetings, helpless citizens of New York!" The attached speaker system blared his words for who knew how far. "This is your future emperor . . . co-emperor of the world, The Shredder. Tonight we're going to demonstrate for you a very special device we call the lightning gun. When we're finished, you will either accept our bid for domination of your city or you will be crushed by the power of our new weapon. Behold!"

Krang powered up the lightning gun and aimed at a section of street in the distance. One well-placed blast and the street was a smoking hole.

A chill ran up Barney's spine. He could hear people screaming in terror. He didn't think anyone had been in the way, but he doubted the next time they would be so lucky. He slipped his hand into his pocket, reaching for the rubber glove.

Suddenly the Turtle Blimp was flying into view. "This is it, Shredder!" Leonardo cried. "We're not gonna let you blow the whole city to Kingdom Come!"

"Oh, you're not?" Shredder mocked. "You won't have any choice! There's no possible way you can so much as make a dent in this machine."

"He's right," Barney spoke up. "If you try to damage it with your weapons right now, it will explode and take out all of you as well as the city block. At least. There is nothing you can do." He looked up at them with dark and firm eyes, silently pleading for them to believe him and back off.

Raphael just got angry. "And you!" he yelled, pointing a sai at Barney. "You're just going to stand there and let this happen?! Baxter's crazy to think you have any decency! Okay, maybe you care about him, but what about all those innocent people?! Huh?!"

"Easy, Raphael," Donatello said as he gripped the controls.

"That gaping hole in that street is only a small sample of what we can now do," Shredder declared. "Shall we see what it does to buildings?"

"No!" the Turtles screamed, even as Krang adjusted the angle to point at a skyscraper in the distance.

"I can't stand it!" Raphael burst out. He pulled back his wrist. "We have to try something!"

"No, Raphael!" Donatello cried. "Barney is right! A weapon with power of that magnitude is too dangerous for an open assault! The only way to safely destroy it is . . ."

"I don't care!" Raphael screamed. "He's aiming at that building! I've gotta do something!" He moved to leap off the glider right at Krang.

Instead, before he could, Barney lunged and snatched the lightning stone out of its place of power. Even as Krang shrieked in anger and outrage, Barney fled through the railing and the door leading back into the building.

"That traitor!" Shredder roared. "After him!"

Bebop and Rocksteady ran in, banging the door behind them.

"We're going too," Krang snarled, leaping off the lightning gun. "I don't trust those two morons with a device as unstable and deadly as a lightning stone!"

He and Shredder dashed inside.

"Well, how do you like that," Donatello said softly. "Barney must have been planning it all along; he had that rubber glove right with him."

"Nevermind that!" Raphael retorted. "The stone's gone now. Can't we damage the gun?!"

"It should be powerless now," Donatello agreed. "Let's do what damage we can, although I'm afraid it won't be much. It's designed to be pretty impervious to outside attacks."

Leonardo threw a katana directly at it. It sizzled and sparked as the katana dug deep into its inner workings. Raphael aimed both sais, pleased as they hit their mark. The gun still looked plenty dangerous, but hopefully it had been weakened.

"We need to help Barney too," Leonardo said in concern. "I'm going to call Michelangelo."

On the ground, Michelangelo and Baxter were just pulling up across the street as the Turtle-Comm rang. Michelangelo pulled it out. "Hey, Leonardo."

"Hi, guys," April greeted at the same moment as she ran over to the Van. Her eyes were filled with regret. "I haven't had much luck getting people to evacuate." She gripped the bottom of the passenger window. "Most of them just won't go when I can't tell them why. Or who ordered it. I started saying you ordered it, Dr. Stockman, and that got some of them to leave."

Baxter managed a weak smile. "At least I have some influence in this city." He sobered immediately. "And unfortunately, now we know why it was necessary. Shredder and Krang have a lightning gun."

"I know," April cringed. "I just saw Krang use it! What are we going to do?!"

"Barney's already doing it," Michelangelo said, hanging up the Turtle-Comm. "He took out the lightning stone that's powering it and is running through the building! All the bad guys are chasing him!"

Baxter went sheet-white, while on his lap, Vincent's eyes widened. "Aren't the Turtles going to help him?!"

"Leonardo thought that by now, Barney would be just about down here," Michelangelo said.

Almost as if on cue, Barney went flying out of the building, followed by Bebop and Rocksteady.

Baxter set the laptop on the seat and leaped out of the Turtle Van. "Barney!" he screamed.

Barney heard, but he only briefly glanced over his shoulder at Baxter as he ran around and re-entered the Dansing Building through a side door. Shredder and Krang, running hard after him, collided with Bebop and Rocksteady.

"Oh! He got away!" Shredder yelled. "You lummoxes were moving much slower than you should have been!"

"Sorry, Boss," said Bebop. But he didn't sound all that sorry.

And Shredder had more pressing matters on his mind than chewing out his henchmen. He pushed on Krang's robot body to remove it from his back. "I told you we shouldn't keep Barney around!" he fumed. "Anyone from the Stockman family is poison! Who knows what else he's done to sabotage our plans!"

Krang stumbled up, his eyes wide and worried. "Nevermind about that! Did he run back inside the building?"

"Yeah," said Bebop.

"So what?" said Rocksteady.

"So we're getting out of here! It's too late now!" Krang pulled out a remote control and pressed a button. A portal opened up and he ran towards it.

Baxter caught up just before he did. "Wait!" he cried, his voice ragged. "What's Barney going to do?!"

Krang turned and glowered at him. "You already know, don't you?" He shoved Baxter backwards into the street. "Go die with him yourself, for all I care!" And he fled through the portal, followed by Shredder and Rocksteady.

Bebop hesitated. "Is Barney really going to die?" He looked up at the top of the building.

"It's the only way he can destroy the lightning gun and the stone!" Krang yelled from inside the portal.

"And you can bet that's what he's trying to do!" Shredder added.

A hand emerged from the portal and dragged Bebop in, just as Michelangelo and April ran over.

Baxter was already scrambling to his feet. "I have to get in there!" he screamed. He ran for the door and Michelangelo chased him, his stomach turning in horror at Baxter's anguish.

"Wait, Baxter!" Michelangelo exclaimed. "Let me talk to the guys. They're probably closer."

The Turtle-Comm in his hand crackled. "Barney's back on the platform again!" Leonardo announced.

"Don't let Baxter come up here!" Donatello ordered. "He'll just get hurt. We'll try to save Barney."

Michelangelo grabbed Baxter's arm. "You hear that, Dude? Come on, let's get away from the building. The guys know what to do. They'll save him."

"No!" Baxter cried. He stared up at the building as Michelangelo dragged him back. "They can't save him. I know what he's doing. It's too late."

"I am not going to believe that! But we have to get out of here in any case!" Michelangelo scooped Baxter over his shoulder and ran for the Turtle Van. April walked backwards alongside, taking out her camera to film the spectacle.

Although ordinarily Baxter might have protested such an awkward position, now he just gazed at the Dansing Building in hopeless anguish. He knew what was coming next. And although he knew there was no turning back now, he began another desperate prayer for Barney's safety.

"He's been protected before," he whispered. "Please, one more time. Just one more time. . . ."

The tears slipped from his eyes.

xxxx

The three Turtles stared in disbelief and confusion as Barney ran back onto the roof and set the stone in its place before adjusting some of the lightning gun's controls.

"Barney, what are you doing?!" Leonardo called.

Barney's red hair blew wildly in the chilling night wind. "Get your blimp back!" he ordered. "You'll all be injured!"

"Oh yeah? Since when do you care what happens to any of us?!" Raphael shot back.

Barney didn't answer. He pointed the ray part of the death machine directly into the sky as it started to spark and sizzle.

"It's going to blow!" Donatello cried in horror.

"Are you nuts?!" Raphael screamed at his hated enemy. "You warned us against doing anything a few minutes ago! You know how much destruction this thing is going to cause if it goes off!"

Barney looked up at him, and even from that distance, the icy resolution in his dark eyes was obvious. "Yes. I know."

A chill went through Donatello's veins. Suddenly he knew. "Barney, don't do it!" he pleaded. "You'll be killed!"

"No big loss." Barney jumped down from the lightning gun. "My own personal Hell. But don't worry, Turtles; even if I can't make it out, no one else will die. As long as I can supervise this monstrosity's descent, it will implode . . . relatively harmlessly." He hurried to the control panel and pressed the button. The retractable platform began to descend back into the building, with both the lightning gun and Barney on it.

"We can't let you do this!" Leonardo cried. "Donatello, bring the blimp closer!"

"I can't!" Donatello exclaimed. "I don't dare. That lightning gun is going to blow up within a minute! If we're too close, the shockwave will send us out of the sky!"

Barney looked up at them as the platform continued to lower itself back into the building. "Tell my brother I'm sorry for everything I've done to hurt him. And tell him . . . tell him he was right."

"Right?! Right about what?!" Raphael snarled. "If you think playing the sacrificial lamb is going to make anyone here feel sorry for you, you're crazy!" But he was tightly gripping the glider.

Barney just gave him a dark, self-depreciating smirk. "Goodbye."

The roof closed.

Donatello flew the blimp farther away from the building, his heart thumping in his shell. He hated to do this, to just leave Barney in there, but he knew very well there was no time to save him. As did Barney. If they tried to get him out of there, they would all die.

The building went up in a cacophony of light and fire. The beam from the lightning gun went straight up, turning the sky red for a brief moment. Then it was gone as the machine imploded on itself and the building began to collapse.

Raphael was still clutching the glider. "He really did it," he said in disbelief. "He blew himself up with that hunk of junk."

"And he found a way to do it that would save everyone else," Leonardo said quietly. "Like it or not, a lot of people in this city now owe their lives to Barney Stockman."

Donatello swallowed hard as he looked down at the crumbling building. "But how is poor Baxter going to handle it?"

Down below, Baxter was lying on the ground in shock as Michelangelo shielded him from any possible stray debris that might hit them from their diagonal location to the building. "What's going on?!" he cried. "What's going on?!"

Michelangelo shook his head. "The building . . . it's coming down." He was staring at the sight in horrified disbelief. The night sky . . . the red beam shooting upward . . . Baxter's anguished screams. . . . Or maybe it had been Barney, not Baxter. This was his dream. It was all coming true now. It had warned him about Barney's death. He hadn't been able to stop it. No one had.

Baxter gripped Michelangelo's arms. "But the other Turtles . . . they got Barney out, didn't they?!"

Michelangelo swallowed hard. It was the hardest word he had had to say in quite some time. "No."

He felt Baxter go stiff.

"Dr. Stockman, I'm so sorry," April whispered.

"No," Baxter retorted. "No, Barney's not dead. I won't believe he's dead. I won't. . . ."

As soon as the building was down, Baxter was leaping up and running towards it. "Barney!" he screamed. "Barney! You got out somehow, didn't you?! You're okay?" He stood, trembling, surveying the destruction in utter, disbelieving horror. Then, desperate, he ran forward and started to dig through the debris. "Barney, where are you?!"

Michelangelo ran up to him, his heart twisting in unbelievable anguish to see his friend so agonized. "Baxter, you've gotta come away," he said. "You might . . ." He trailed off as one of the remaining skeletal beams creaked and began to fall. "Baxter!" He leaped forward, grabbing the little man and rolling away with him as the beam crashed right where he had been.

Baxter flinched. "What if that fell on Barney just now?!" he wailed.

"It almost fell on you!" Michelangelo retorted. But the sharp tone to his voice left as he really thought about Baxter's fears. "Dude, I'm sorry," he said sadly. "So sorry. . . ." He pushed himself up, looking down helplessly at Baxter laying on the ground.

Baxter was shaken but undaunted. He got up and again went closer to the wreckage, still desperate, still not wanting to believe. "I knew what he was going to do as soon as Vincent sent me what he wrote in my apartment," he choked out. "He knew it too. Barney couldn't let Krang destroy buildings full of people. He had to bring the lightning gun down in the only way possible, even if that meant . . ."

He trailed off. Amid all the smoke and dust and other unpleasant substances collecting in the air, something quite different was floating down near him. He reached out, catching it in his hand.

"Oh my God," he choked out in sickened grief. "Oh my God. . . ." He crashed to his knees.

April, who was running over now, stopped and gasped.

Michelangelo leaned over Baxter's shoulder, staring at what he was holding. "Oh Dude . . ."

It was a chunk of singed red hair.

xxxx

Baxter called the press conference the next day. When he approached and took the stand and the cameras closed in, he looked as though he had aged a decade overnight. He certainly hadn't slept. But he was determined to go through with this.

"Last night this building came down," he began, tightly gripping the podium. "It was being built for an important corporation and it had many state-of-the-art features, including a retractable platform that could go onto the roof.

"Two supervillains whom you all well know by now-Krang and Shredder-decided to use this building for their own nefarious purposes. Krang had my brother invent a sub-electron amplifier under false pretenses. For those who aren't scientists, it's a device that can produce incredible quantities of electricity. My brother honestly thought he wanted it to keep the electricity running on their fortress, which is still currently under the ocean. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case at all. Krang wanted it to power something he had been constructing in secret at this location: a lightning gun. He intended to use it to hold the city for ransom, destroying building after building until we gave in to his demands.

"My brother started to become suspicious, but he courageously stayed on, knowing that if he didn't build the sub-electron amplifier, Krang would get someone else to, and that maybe that someone else wouldn't care if Krang had a cruel purpose in mind for it. Barney was determined to stop Krang and destroy the sub-electron amplifier, if it came to that.

"As soon as Barney found out the truth about Krang's plan, he knew it had to be stopped. And of course he felt that he had to be the one to stop it. It was partially due to his sense of responsibility for having invented the device that would make the gun operational. And it was partially, or even mostly, because of what everyone around him could see that he could not see himself: that he was a good person."

Baxter drew a shaking breath, forced to pause at this point as he blinked back tears that threatened to fall. Michelangelo stepped forward, giving him an encouraging nod and smile. Baxter straightened, taking comfort and strength from his friend.

"Barney knew that destroying the gun would be problematic as well. Somehow he had to do it without bringing harm to anyone. A lightning gun is a very powerful and frightening weapon. Each blast packs the effect of many vicious lightning bolts. If he wasn't careful, the machine's destruction could bring down almost everything on the block.

"The retractable platform, which Krang and Shredder planned to make the greatest use of, would serve Barney's purpose as well. If he contained the lightning gun inside the shaft within the building, and imploded it instead of exploding it, he could greatly reduce the damage. The building it was in would go down, unfortunately, but with a little luck, nothing else would. Pointing the gun upward instead of outward would also help.

"Barney wasn't able to stop Krang and Shredder from starting their horrible scheme, but in a bold and daring move, he took the sub-electron amplifier right out of the machine before Krang's first tests harmed anyone. He led his former employers on a wild chase throughout the building and outside, then rushed back in and up to the roof before they could stop him. He replaced the sub-electron amplifier in the lightning gun and made what provisions he had to in order to ensure that it would be destroyed in the way he wanted. Then, after bidding farewell to three of the Ninja Turtles, who had weakened the gun from their blimp but hadn't been able to defeat it, Barney descended into the building with the lightning gun. There wasn't enough time to save him. They all knew it. And Barney didn't want anyone else to be hurt. He ordered the Turtles to get back."

Baxter leaned forward, his grip on the podium becoming stronger and more insistent. "We don't know what happened during those final moments before the lightning gun imploded. Some tabloids are reporting that my brother deliberately killed himself." Baxter shuddered before continuing, "But I don't believe it! My brother was not suicidal. He was the type who could only be dragged out of this life kicking and screaming. He wanted to live! And I believe he tried to get out of that building before it went up. It's just that he . . . he knew he wasn't likely to make it. And he was willing to make that sacrifice if it would stop Krang's device from killing anyone else."

Baxter straightened again. "Barney certainly wasn't perfect. He had many flaws and faults, as do we all. He wasn't wont to show his good side, especially since he believed he didn't have one. But it came out anyway." He gave a shaking smile. "It always came out."

He sobered as he concluded. "Barney has been considered a villain in this city for some time. He definitely made unwise choices. But who am I to judge, after what I've done? Overall, this city has been willing to accept me. Some of you have even forgiven me. All I ask is please, don't see Barney as a villain any longer. He was a tortured soul, a troubled soul, and in the end, I don't know how many people here owe their lives to him because he gave the ultimate sacrifice to save them. Knowing Krang and his penchant for destruction, it must be a great many." His voice caught in his throat. "Please, remember Barney for what he did last night. Remember him as a hero. Thank you."

He walked off the stage and into the audience, where Michelangelo drew an arm around his shoulders. "You did good, Bud."

Baxter ran a trembling hand down his face. "It was the least I could do. I couldn't bear for Barney to be remembered as a villain. The company that was putting up that building has been screaming. I had to make them understand. I had to. . . ."

"And I think you did," Michelangelo said.

"I hope so." Baxter looked up at the sky. "And I hope that . . . wherever Barney is, he's finding the peace he never had in life." He shut his eyes tightly. "I hope and pray that he didn't go to Hell." Tears, held back while he was on camera, now slipped from his eyes. "Oh God, I pray that."

The Turtles looked at each other. Finally Michelangelo spoke. "Baxter . . . you know . . . the only proof we have that he might have been caught in that blast is that piece of hair you found."

Baxter's eyes snapped open. "There was no way he could have escaped, Michelangelo. He only had seconds to run. The entire building was affected by the implosion. If he wasn't blown to pieces, he was crushed when it came down. I know search-and-rescue crews haven't found anything yet, and it will take weeks to sift through all the debris, but . . ." He shook his head. "I can't believe in an idle hope that will just be crushed like he was. My brother is dead. I have to deal with that and move on."

"He was sure good at escaping that other explosion when we thought sure it was curtains for him," Michelangelo said.

"He fell down a snowy mountain," Baxter said softly. "This time, there was nowhere to fall except into a grave of steel and iron." He fell silent, a stricken look passing over his features. "Barney really is dead. My brother is gone." He slumped heavily against Michelangelo. "I've been so numb and unable to process it. Suddenly it just struck me full force."

Michelangelo hugged Baxter close as they started to walk to the Turtle Van. "We'll take you home, Baxter," he soothed. It was all he knew he could say. He couldn't possibly say it would be alright. If he lost one of the other Turtles or Splinter, he couldn't know how it would ever be alright again.

"Thank you," Baxter said. "I must admit, I don't feel like driving."

Tears pricked Michelangelo's eyes now. And when he glanced to the other Turtles, it looked as though they too had damp eyes.

Even Raphael.