This is just a 'gap-filler' from TMNT The Movie. The part taken directly from the movie as a reference point is underlined.

New Friends, New Challenges

Donatello stepped onto the run-down porch of the farmhouse, trying to ignore the dull throb below his left knee.

Mikey had just done his best to patch up the gaping incision and surrounding bloody bruise, but it pained no less.

Don wasn't sure if he'd gotten that injury from a Foot soldier, or when they'd all crashed down through April's apartment floor into her store.

He was trying to stay upbeat for Mikey's sake- he smiled slightly to himself, recalling the Moonlighting crack he'd just made as April and Casey slammed out of the room after their row.

It was very difficult with the thought of Splinter missing...or worse.

Don shook his head. He couldn't allow himself- or his brothers- to believe their father might be gone from their lives permanently.

He could feel the tears starting just at the thought, and quickly put a stop to them.

He'd done enough sobbing when they'd found the rat gone.

Don turned his thoughts to the unconscious Raphael

He'd checked him over as best as he could, and luckily had found no broken bones.

He had masses of deep bruising, some tissue damage, sprains, strains, cuts, a dinted, soft shell, probably some internal bruising, and likely a heavy concussion.

It would take a while to heal, but Raphael was out of immediate danger from the injuries.

Don had done his best to convince Mike and Leo that Raph would regain consciousness sooner or later, but he knew Leo couldn't bring himself to believe it.

His worry and guilt would keep him by Raph's side until he came back to them.

Donny looked around and decided to go exploring a little; the bushy farmland was such a change from the city, and what a novelty to be outside in the daytime without a disguise.

He sauntered up the side of the house, humming "Old Mcdonald" under his breath, and jumped and spun around when some sort of insect he'd never seen before leapt from the grass to his kneepad.

I hope nobody saw that, he thought wryly, looking over the ground, but the thing had disappeared.

The rough unkempt grass felt strangely good to the feet that were accustomed to urban concrete and wet sludgy sewers.

The country air had him in disbelief at it's freshness, and lack of murky smog that all too often shrouded the New York City sky, and it was so quiet.

He wandered on and checked out what looked like an old milking shed, a run-down stable and a small grain silo near the barn that was still in fairly good shape

The O ' Neil farm must have been impressive in its day, Don thought, carefully sliding open the barn doors and stepping inside.

He gazed around at the high ceiling, the hayloft, stalls and battered feed bins, breathing in the clean scent of hay that still lingered.

A collection of old- possibly antique- small farm tools, caught his attention. He went to examine them, recalling how April had told them about her late father's love of "junk"; her main reason for maintaining an unprofitable second hand / antique store.

Don fully understood her desire to honour her dad that way.

And now her store, her home, her life, all her tangible memories, everything has been destroyed, thanks to this Foot clan, he thought, unfamiliar ire rising in him.

Anger clouds the mind, my son.

Don visibly started at the sound of his father's voice in his mind, gentle as mist.

Hollow sadness and a profound sense of loss swept over him.

He slowly sank to the ground, head in hands, unable to keep his tears back any longer.

There was no sobbing this time, the tears simply welled up in silent grief and soaked into his mask.

How could he go on convincing his brothers their father was alive when he couldn't convince himself?

The barn door swung open, letting in a small rush of warm air, and an agitated Casey Jones strode in.

He hadn't noticed the quiet turtle and was bouncing around, air-boxing with an invisible opponent, obviously working off his April frustrations.

Donny had watched Raph taking out his tempers on anything handy often enough to recognize that.

He drew the backs of his wrists across his eyes and watched him out of curiosity.

This Casey has a good heart, underneath that vigilante covering, Don thought.

He'd plunged headlong, of his own free will, into a situation he didn't have a clue about, to help out his strange "little green pal".

He'd helped save all their butts, if it came to that.

Casey lashed out in his amateur version of a roundhouse kick, landed flat on his back, and lay there puffing.

Don pulled himself up and and went over to him.

"Want a hand?" he offered, holding one out.

Casey jumped.

"Jeez, don't do that! Give a warning next time will ya!"

"Sorry" Don shrugged.

Getting around silently was second nature to them, and they didn't realize most people would consider it 'being snuck up on'.

Casey got to his feet and eyed this one of his new acuaintances curiously.

It was plain he'd...Donyanelli, or whatever it was...had been crying, probably over their father.

Casey had gathered that the turtles' father had been kidnapped by the goons in the black jumpsuits, but he had no idea how or why.

He wasn't sure what had drawn him to their defence, either.

He'd felt a sneaking admiration and liking for the one he'd tried to give his Casey-brand butt-kicking to in Central Park a couple of nights ago; the guy in the red mask had a lot of spunk.

Casey looked at the giant turtle in the tear-stained purple mask and realized he felt bad for them.

It had been a long time since he'd cared about anyone other than himself...and a long time since anyone had cared about him.

"So...what's your name again?"

" brothers call me Don or Donny,"

"Uh-huh. Well Donny, where the hell did you all come from?"

Donatello smiled. He'd been waiting for that.

He gave Casey the Turtle Origin spiel, and watched as a blank look came over his face.

"Can you run that by me again, in American?"

Don sighed. "When we were babies we got covered in some nuclear goo, and so did our father- who was already full grown- when he decided to take us in, and it transformed us."

" how did you all learn this fancy Karate Kid stuff?"

"Splinter- that's our father- taught us," he explained quietly, looking away.

Casey sensed the mention of his father upset the turtle, and slightly regretted bringing it up.

He wasn't a completely insensitive asshole, as long as he kept his mouth shut.

Trouble was, his mouth often took off on it's own accord, while his brain waddled along behind, trying vainly to catch up.

He made a mental note to try and make up for his "You were fired" blunder with the spunky reporter.

Don rubbed briefly at his eyes. "I hope my brother regains consciousness soon, so we can get back into our training," he commented.

Not too enthusiastic, Casey thought.

"You don't like the training?" he asked his unusual companion, settling into a small pile of partially perished hay.

Donny considered. "I like having the ninja skills- we study ninjutsu, not karate- and I enjoy training and practising with my brothers. I don't like having to fight or hurt people, even if they are criminals...Leo- Leonardo, my oldest brother- has always called me a pacifist."

He sighed and studied a wisp of hay at his feet.

Casey waited.

"We're in for the fight of our lives when we get back...and for our father's life," Don said, almost to himself.

"Whoa..." Casey muttered, beginning to wonder what he'd landed in the middle of.

Don gave himself a mental shake.

"Why do you do what you do?" he curiously asked the human whom he thought gutsy.

Casey grinned. "You mean my one-man crusade to keep the NY city streets safe? Why shouldn't I, the police just look the other way half the time...I'm willing and capable," he said, thinking of his 'bag of goodies'; the various sporting equipment that could be a dangerous weapon when handled correctly...or incorrectly.

"Besides, I get a kick out of busting some lowlife's skull," he added with a snicker.

This guy's certifiable, Donny thought.

"What does your family think?"


"Yeah, you know, wife, mother, father, brother, sister, dog, cat?"

"I...I don't have any of them. None that count, anyway," Casey mumbled.

Donny felt awkward, hearing that.

He realized how lucky he himself was to be part of a loving, if somewhat unusual family.

He tried to change the subject.

"Right...well, I wanted to thank you for your help last night...we mightn't be here if you hadn't turned up when you did," Don said, offering a handshake.

Casey slowly gripped the green hand in his own, surprised to find it didn't feel too differently to a human hand; cooler, but not slimy or rough, as he'd been expecting.

"You got more manners than your brother," he commented dryly.

Don's eyes twinkled. "That's just the way Raphael is. You'll get used to him."

You'll get used to him...

"Are you planning on keeping me around?" Casey asked, off-hand.

Don looked at him. "Friends are for life, aren't they?"

No one's called me a friend for as long as I can remember, Casey said to himself, surprised, and yes, touched, he admitted to himself grudgingly.

"Well, I'll try to be...but I'm not promising anything." he said guardedly.

"You know, up to a few days ago, none of us had ever really spoken to a human. Now we have two 'people-friends'...April has been terrific to us," Don commented, glancing at Casey out of the corner of his eye.

Casey sighed and threw up his hands. "I know, I know! I'll make it up to her, OK?"


Casey gave a huge stage sigh and got to his feet.

"I've had enough of this...heart-to-heart with a stranger," he cringed, "So I'm off to flex my mechanical skills,"

"On what?" Donny asked, keenly interested.

"I saw an old pick-up in a shed down the back. We're going to need wheels if we're ever going to get off, and I think I can do a transplant from the van and get it goin'"

"Let's get to it then!" Don said, fast cheering up at the thought of fiddling with something and maybe being able to get it working.

Casey was surprised. "What do you know about engines?"

"My brothers don't call me 'The Smart One' for nothing. I can usually fix most things...if I can't then I'll make or build something new," Don said, as casually as if he were discussing the weather.

The surprises just keep comin', Casey thought, taken aback...again.

"You coming, Action Man?" Don asked from the barn doorway.

"Sure thing...Brainiac" Casey said, a slow grin coming over his face.

They wandered further from the main house until Casey pointed out the shed he'd found the old truck in, and tripped over nothing as they entered.

"Good one, Cat food breath." Don snickered.

Casey gave him a dirty look as he straightened and lifted the old bonnet.

"Ever watch Gilligan's Island, Dork face?"

Casey said as Don hunted up some tools that were still in the shed.