Author's Note: Posting this here too. 2012 verse, post Season 4.

Warnings: Canon Major Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Drama. Read at your own risk! (Aka remember that not reading is sometimes self-care.) Now if this sounds like your kind of story, welcome! ;)


Prologue


Splinter blinked.

One second ago, he was looking at his four sons; and now the living room was empty. The last thing he remembered was a flash of bright light.

Splinter breathed a heavy sigh. Once more, his sons had failed to exercise caution, and now they were lost Splinter didn't know where.

He shook his head. When would they learn that bringing home foreign devices was never a good idea?

But of course they would be too curious to resist temptation—especially Donatello.

Splinter hadn't had much time to take a look at the scepter-like device his sons had found in one of their topside expeditions. Besides, it had been swirling in Michelangelo's hands.

His most childish son had been playing with it in spite of—or because of—the fact his brother Donatello had told him not to.

Well, the result spoke for itself.

Splinter stroked his beard in a self-comforting gesture. He knew he had to let his sons make their mistakes and hopefully learn from them, but it didn't ease his worry when they were out of his sight.

Where could this wretched device possibly have taken them? In another dimension maybe? It wouldn't be the first time.

Splinter thought with nostalgia about the time when the four turtles he had raised were forbidden to leave the lair on their own. These days, it felt like they were barely home anymore, except for training sessions where he had to be their master more than their father.

His teenagers were growing up fast. Maybe a little too fast for Splinter's taste.

The tall rat stood for a while in the living room, in the hope that his sons would somehow come back.

They didn't.

Splinter knew he could only wait patiently. With a last long-suffering sigh, he turned around to head for the dojo, where he would spend the next hours in deep meditation.

That was when he heard noise in Donatello's lab.

Splinter frowned and immediately made for the room that his most clever son had claimed for himself years ago. The panel doors were closed, and he opened them as silently as he could.

Donatello must have forgotten to oil them, though, because they creaked.

To Splinter's surprise, precisely inside his lab stood Donatello, with his back to the door. The turtle didn't look away from what he was doing, nor did he switch off the welding torch he was holding.

"How did the patrol go?" Donatello asked. "I thought you wouldn't be back before several more hours."

Splinter tilted his head, rather perplexed. "I wasn't topside, my son. Tell me, what just happened?"

The ninja master wasn't expecting what came next.

Donatello started and let go of his welding torch. Luckily it didn't land on his feet, but it still scorched his skin enough that the turtle jumped on the spot, holding his right foot with one hand. With the other, he lifted his welding helmet to better look at the newcomer.

The intonation of his voice brought a shiver to Splinter's spine.

"Fa...Father?"