*Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.
*Author's Notes: Here is chapter 11 of 'Lost in the Fight' and it's another intense one.
Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read, vote on, and comment on this story. The feedback has been wonderful and I am extremely grateful for the support.
As always, please continue to read/vote on/comment on this story if you are enjoying it. I would really appreciate it. Thank you for reading. ;) CJ
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Chapter 11 - Turtles and Tigers and Bears! Oh, My!
It seemed so cliché to him, waking up face down on the littered floor of what was clearly an abandoned warehouse. If bad guys didn't actually want to get caught, then why did they always choose to hide out in abandoned factories or warehouses? They may as well have put up a huge, flashing neon arrow on the outside of the building to let any good guys passing by know exactly where they were.
Donatello probably should have been grateful that his enemies had been so predictable, but he was more irritated by it than anything else. It was insulting that they couldn't at least try to come up with a creative plan. It made him feel as though he wasn't worth the effort of putting a little thought into their evil schemes.
The turtle would have continued on with his mental rant, but he was distracted by an unexpected deluge of pain shooting through him, reminding him of the many injuries that had been inflicted upon him over the past few . . . hours? Maybe days? He honestly had no clue how long he had been unconscious for. He could see that it was still dark outside, which could have meant that not much time had passed since he had been attacked, but then again, a week could have gone by for all he knew. The way that his body ached, he could have sworn that he had been out of commission for several months. Literally everything hurt.
Groaning in utter misery, Donnie peered over at his injured shoulder with his eye that wasn't practically swollen shut. He could see that his enemies had been kind enough to cauterize the stab wound while he was out cold.
Well, that would explain the burnt flesh smell lingering in the air . . .
That disturbing thought made him cringe in his shell. Thankfully, he had been oblivious during what would have no doubt been an excruciating procedure had he been cognizant at the time. He then grimaced, realizing that the warehouse wasn't exactly a sterile, controlled environment to perform cautery. He was willing to bet that his captors hadn't taken the time or the consideration to clean the wound properly before burning it. He also found it extraordinarily hard to believe that they had bothered to use the appropriate medical tools for such a procedure. The genius turtle's assumption was that they had most likely used a lighter or built a fire to heat up the end of one of Tiger Claw's weapons or some random piece of metal that they had found at either the junkyard or the warehouse. Taking into consideration the increased tissue damage that his kidnappers had caused by burning him, as well as factoring in the contaminated surroundings of both the junkyard and warehouse, Donatello concluded that his chances of developing an infection were extremely high. And he didn't even want to think about the wicked scar that the puncture wound would leave behind once it healed.
If it healed, Donatello thought bleakly, well aware of how grievous the injury was. Sometimes, being the one in the family with the most medical knowledge was more of a curse than a blessing. Knowing the potential consequences and worst case scenarios just served as a constant source of stress.
Again, Donnie probably should have been grateful for his enemies preventing his exsanguination, but gratitude was certainly not something that he was feeling right about now. Besides, he was guessing that the two behemoths hadn't stopped him from bleeding to death out of the kindness of their hearts. Their actions were presumably not in his best interest.
Feeling no desire to stick around and find out what plans Tiger Claw and Grizzgore had in store for him, Donnie decided that an immediate escape would be his wisest option.
In an attempt to assess his situation, the injured turtle made the mistake of trying to sit up. The second that he moved, his entire body seized up in agony and he noticed that the warehouse started to spin like a centrifuge.
Head injury, Donnie needlessly reminded himself.
Lying as still as possible, he waited for the world to stop revolving and the pain to become somewhat tolerable before making another attempt to get up. This time, he went about it much slower, but he once again failed. Not on account of his injuries, but because his wrists were tied behind his back and any form of movement only seemed to make the ropes get tighter. His fingers were already tingling from the loss of circulation and he could feel the cruelly taut binds digging into his skin, rubbing the flesh underneath raw. Donnie then attempted to move his legs and soon discovered that his ankles were securely bound with rope as well.
What? Do they think I'm Houdini here? The turtle thought sardonically before it occurred to him that he was a highly trained ninja, so yeah . . . They were probably right in assuming that he was a bit of an escape artist. When Donnie stopped to really think about it, he realized that he was actually quite knowledgeable on ropes. He should have been giving himself credit where credit was due. He knew how to tie dozens of different knots. Why wouldn't he have the skills to untie them as well?
Prior to getting started on what he hoped would be an audacious and marvelous escape, Donnie scanned the room for any unwanted spectators that might try to spoil his upcoming stunt. There were multiple paw prints left in the thick layer of dust covering the floor, but other than that, there were no visible signs of his abductors. It was as though they had just tied him up and left him there. At first, Donnie was somewhat offended by the insinuation that he no longer posed any kind of threat, but then, his brain kicked it up a notch and set off his internal alarm system.
What if they're going after the guys? I've got to warn them!
He wheezed and grunted as he tried to contort his body into a position that would allow him to perhaps untie his ankles with his bound hands. Luckily, he was flexible enough to pull off such a pretzel-like maneuver and he frantically began to work on untying the knots trussing his lower legs together. It was a little more challenging having to do the untying from behind and the extraordinarily awkward position was killing his wounded shoulder and ribs, but his desperation to protect his brothers helped him through it.
His fingers continued to twist and pick away at the knots, slowly loosening the binds keeping his feet pinned together. Little by little, he could feel the ropes coming undone, until finally, his legs were free to move.
He gritted his teeth as he carefully pushed himself up into a sitting position and kicked away the ropes at his feet. He then stood up and clumsily stepped over his bound wrists so that his hands were now in front of him rather than behind. His head, chest, and shoulder were protesting all of the movement, but he fought his way through the pain and dizziness.
Trying to stick to the darkest shadows under the catwalks along the walls of the warehouse, Donnie crept towards the exit of the building, fiddling with the ropes around his wrists as he went. Several times he had to stop working on the ropes so that he could sweep away the cobwebs from his face. While he appreciated the intricate work of arachnids from a biological standpoint, he couldn't stand having the sticky webs clinging to his face. It gave him the willies.
The pungent odor of mold, mildew, rust and various animal droppings filled his nostrils and made him nearly retch. At least it was slightly toning down the smell of blood, sweat, and burnt skin, but it wasn't helping his already queasy stomach condition. With the way things were going with his stomach lately, he was going to have to start taking in nutrients intravenously in order to survive.
As he kept moving, he tried breathing through his mouth instead of his nose, but that only seemed to further irritate his congested chest and something told him that a coughing fit would be a whole lot worse to deal with than the stench. Hence the reason he decided to switch back to inhaling and exhaling through his nose as he continued on.
The cold and fractured concrete flooring of the warehouse was strewn with miscellaneous clutter, including corroded barrels, soggy cardboard boxes and paper, busted pallets and stakes, fallen pieces of the ceiling and walls, and glass shards from the dozens of broken window panes and skylights. The mess at his feet was making it difficult for him to stay silent as well as keep his balance. Especially with his wrists still tied together.
That was when he was struck by a classic 'duh' moment. He looked down at the ropes, then, at the floor, and then, at the ropes again.
Uh, hello? Broken glass! Some genius you are! Donnie chewed himself out in his head for overlooking the obvious.
He was about to pick up a piece of jagged glass, intent on cutting his wrists free, when his T-phone rang out.
Donnie's eyes widened with alarm and his hands immediately reached for his belt to retrieve his chiming phone, only it wasn't there . . .
His chest constricted and his heart began to gallop as he turned just in time to see his two captors leap down from the catwalk above him. Donatello's immediate reaction was to try to back away from his attackers, but his shell was already scraping against the wall behind him. He was now having serious regrets over his decision to stick to the side of the building. If he would have just taken the straightest shot to the door – right down the center of the warehouse – maybe he would have had a ghost of a chance.
Hindsight is twenty-twenty, Donnie wryly sighed to himself.
The two giant mutants wasted no time looming in on the turtle, eliminating any possibility of making a break for it. As they edged closer and closer to where he stood, Donnie could barely hold in a gasp. Just the sight of their large fangs made him shudder.
"Someone keeps trying to contact you via this communication device, little one," Tiger Claw growled, as though he was angry with the phone. He then held up the device for Donnie to see and the genius turtle couldn't help but to notice that the phone looked rather puny in the palm of the mutant tiger's enormous paw. He also noticed that the phone's cheery ringtone sounded somewhat obnoxious given the direness of the situation.
"Probably just telemarketers. You know how persistent they can be," Donatello wittily remarked, and then, let out a nervous chuckle when it dawned on him that it hadn't really been the best time to make a smart aleck comment.
"Perhaps you should respond. I am sure your brothers are concerned about you by now. They are probably quite curious as to your whereabouts," Tiger Claw said in a low, dangerous tone.
What little bit of confidence Donatello still had started to waver as Tiger Claw's lone eye bore into him, but the turtle in purple was determined not to let his enemy see fear, so he sullenly turned his head away to imply that he wasn't about to cooperate.
"Do not test my patience any further, foolish turtle! You will answer the phone! And if you ever want to walk again, you will tell your brothers that you are fine and you will be home soon!" Tiger Claw shoved the phone into Donnie's battered chest as he barked out his orders and the maniacal look on the larger mutant's face suggested that he was not bluffing.
Grizzgore then contributed a grunt to the conversation, as if to wordlessly second Tiger Claw's threat.
Swallowing hard, Donnie lifted his head up and stared down at the phone which was no longer ringing, making it slightly easier to think straight. A myriad of scenarios were racing through the turtle's overactive brain. He really wanted to be able to walk again, but Tiger Claw had his T-phone and he couldn't let his enemies get a hold of the technology that he had built into the devices. It could put his whole family at risk, as well as April.
In the event of an emergency, such as this, Donatello had implanted a mechanism inside of their T-phones that made the phones self-destruct upon saying a specific phrase. When the self-destruct sequence was initiated, the genius turtle had programmed the phone to explode, rendering it utterly useless to the enemy. That way, they didn't have to worry about the enemy finding the location of the lair via the tracking devices in their phones. They had only used the mechanism a couple of times, but on those few occasions, the program had worked flawlessly.
There was another option that Donnie had just added to the self-destruct mode – per Leo's request – that could possibly save his shell. The turtle in purple had programmed the phones to send out a text message to all of the other T-phones indicating which user had initiated the self-destruct sequence and the time and location that the detonation had occurred. This message would alert the other T-phone users that something bad had potentially happened to one of them and inform the others where the mobile device had been located when the self-destruct sequence had been activated. He had just finished installing this new feature about an hour before he and his brothers had gotten into that epic fight.
In theory, this new upgrade could be a wonderfully useful tool, but Donnie was hesitant to use it. That was because he knew if the program worked as designed, his brothers would immediately come after him once they received the emergency message. While Donnie was obviously in need of his brothers' help, if they were to come to his rescue, it would mean that he would be putting their lives at risk all because he was dumb enough to get caught . . .
"It was a stupid move, Donatello. Stupid!"
"What the shell were you thinking?"
"You went off and almost got yourself killed!"
"You're supposed to be the smart one."
"I can't babysit you all of the time!"
The voices in his head were back to remind him just how incompetent he truly was . . .
He hated the thought of his brothers endangering themselves on account of him. He wasn't worth it, but if he didn't destroy the phone, the technology could find its way into Shredder's hands. If that were to happen, it could lead the enemy right to their home. They could find Master Splinter or even April. Then, everyone he loved would be at risk.
There was no other option . . .
"T-Phone, self-destruct."
The phone began to spark and smoke in Tiger Claw's massive paw and Donnie had to internalize a satisfied smirk over the sight.
Dropping the phone to the hard ground below, Tiger Claw roared with insane fury and stomped on the smoldering device with his back paw as though he was trying to trample out a campfire. While it was almost comical to watch, Donnie soon realized that ticking the much bigger mutant off was not going to bode well for him.
As if on cue, Tiger Claw's head shot up and he locked a savage glare on the turtle that he was readying to pounce.
Since Donatello was unarmed and his wrists were still tied, his current best defensive mechanism was his legs. Just as Tiger Claw was about to strike, the ninja in purple attempted to plant a swift front kick into his enemy's abdomen, but the tiger's naturally catlike reflexes were quick enough that he caught Donnie's foot midair. The now furious mutant held Donnie's leg straight and brutally drove his elbow down into the turtle's shin.
A gruesome pair of cracking sounds filled the air, followed by the sound of Donnie screaming in pain. He then collapsed to the ground and continued to cry out in long, weeping hitches.
Unsympathetic to his victim's suffering, Tiger Claw reached down and grabbed the terrapin by the throat, instantly stifling his cries of agony. Once the turtle was quiet, the larger mutant hoisted him up off of the ground and roughly pinned him against the wall by his neck. Tiger Claw then lifted the defenseless turtle up so that they were at eye level.
With his feet now dangling several inches off of the ground, Donnie gasped for air, but the asphyxiating hold crushing his windpipe would not allow any oxygen to pass through.
"Since you are supposedly the most intelligent one, I am sure I do not need to tell you what a grave mistake you just made," Tiger Claw snarled coldly while he squeezed his paw even tighter around the turtle's throat. The mutant Bengal tiger pulled the turtle closer to him and watched with sadistic pleasure as the smaller mutant started to go limp in his grasp. He then slammed the nearly lifeless turtle into the wall and threw him to the ground at the mutant bear's feet.
"Grizzgore, get the chains," was the last thing that Donatello heard before blacking out again.
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Raphael had never been the fastest of his brothers, but right now, he was pretty sure that he could have given any one of them a run for their money. He was flying through the junkyard at breakneck speed, as though possessed by an Olympic runner. With how fast he was clipping over the heavy debris covering the ground, it was a wonder that he hadn't taken a tumble and fallen shell over tea kettle. His brothers would have loved to have seen that.
The largest mound of junk in the scrap yard was only a few hundred feet away, so Raph slowed his pace to a jog as he visually scanned the area in search of his brothers. It didn't take him long to locate Leo, and a second later, he spotted Mikey and ran towards him.
Despite Raph's best efforts at sprinting, Mikey had still somehow gotten to Leo first, proving yet again that the youngest turtle was the fastest of the brothers. Raph really hated it whenever Mikey was better at something than he was. Not just because he was extremely competitive by nature, but also, because his baby brother was a big mouth who never let him live stuff like that down.
This time, however, Mikey didn't bother rubbing it in Raph's face that he was the quicker turtle. In fact, he didn't even acknowledge that his red-clad brother was there. The smallest turtle just remained sitting on the ground with his face held in his hands, crying nonstop.
The unnerving sight of his youngest brother sobbing uncontrollably for the second time that night made Raph's heart begin to beat out of time. He then looked over and saw that his older brother didn't look a whole lot more composed than Mikey. It was clear that the 'fearless' leader had also been traumatized by whatever had caused Mikey's breakdown. Leonardo had always been better at camouflaging his emotions than their baby brother, but the hothead could still see the tears glistening in his big brother's eyes.
"What's going on, Leo? I got this weird text message about the self-destruct mechanism on Donnie's T-phone. What the shell is that all about?" Raph attempted to hide his concern by growling out his words. All the while, he waved his own T-phone around to further stress his point.
Leonardo's breath got stuck in his chest for a moment when he tried to answer, forcing him to wait until he was able to support oxygen again. Once he finally collected enough air to speak, his voice came out choked with anguish.
"You remember before the fight . . . when I was talking about Donnie making upgrades to the T-phones? Well . . . I had asked him if he could add a program to all of our phones where a text message would be sent out when someone initiated the self-destruct sequence. It was supposed to let the rest of us know right away if someone was in trouble and where they were. I guess I didn't realize that he had finished the project." Leonardo had muttered the last sentence so softly, it was barely audible. He then dipped his head down in shame, realizing that the whole fight back at the lair could have been avoided if he would have just stopped and listened to Donnie rather than jumping to conclusions. Leo had verbally and physically attacked Donatello when the genius turtle had done exactly what the leader in blue had asked him to do.
I'm the worst brother ever . . .
Raph also hung his head down, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. He was having a hard time processing the information that he had just received. His imagination was now running wild with horrific visualizations of what could have happened to his brainiac brother.
"I failed him," Leo croaked out, unable to keep his grief in check. He turned away from his two brothers, too ashamed to face them. He was straining to hold himself together and his usual self-assurance had abandoned him.
Raph then found his voice again.
"We don't know for sure if Donnie's in trouble, Leo. Maybe he's just testing out the new program. You know, to see if it works. Or maybe the program had a glitch in it or something," Raph said with far more optimism than the brothers were used to hearing from him. Truth be told, the red-masked turtle was just struggling to come to terms with reality, fluctuating somewhere between a state of shock and a state of denial.
It was at this point that Mikey made a series of pitiful squeaking sounds. He then held up Donnie's duffle bag that had been sitting beside him on the ground where Raph couldn't see it. The bag was covered in blood. Presumably, Donnie's blood. As disturbing as that was, it wasn't even the worst of what Leo had found. Not even close . . .
Mikey blinked away his tears so that he could see for a little while, knowing that soon, a new round would come and blur his vision again. Then, the youngest turtle reached an unsteady hand inside of the bag and pulled out the blood-stained naginata half of Donnie's broken bo-staff.
When he heard Raph start cussing repeatedly – as his hotheaded brother tended to do when he was upset – Mikey dropped the items back down to the ground, not wanting to touch or look at them a second longer. He then buried his face in his hands once more and began to weep inconsolably. Just the sight of Donnie's bloodied and broken bo-staff made the youngest turtle fall apart all over again.
Staring down at the blood covered items that belonged to his missing little brother, Raphael felt a white hot flame ignite inside of him and it quickly started to grow into a raging fire. If someone had hurt Donnie, he was going to hurt them . . . badly.
"So why are we still standing here? Donnie's in trouble and that message told us exactly where he is! We've gotta get to him before – " Raph howled, but he stopped midsentence when he saw that Leo was clinging onto something in his hand for dear life. At first, Raph thought that Leo was just holding onto his T-phone, but the leader in blue wouldn't have been able to close his fist as tightly as he was if it was his phone in his hand.
"Leo?" Raph rasped out, barely able to speak. An overwhelming sense of dread was stealing his breath away. "What's in your hand?"
As he slowly turned to face Raph, Leo's whole body began to shake. The blue-clad ninja continued to clutch the object in his hand, keeping it concealed from his brother's vision.
"Leo!" Raph snapped, patience wearing dangerously thin. His short fuse had been lit and he was about to blow. He wanted nothing more than to punch something and his older brother was in his sights. His concern for Donnie had his temper spiraling out of control.
Sensing that his hotheaded brother was on the threshold of going ballistic, Leo held out his trembling hand and pried it open to reveal what he had been enclosing inside of his fingers.
Not even sure how to react to what he was seeing, Raph drew in a ragged breath, desperately trying to gather what little was left of his rationale. His sanity was hanging on by the most delicate of threads.
"Is that – " Raph was unable to finish the question on his first attempt, nearly choking on the remaining words of what he had been trying to say. He then gruffly cleared his throat and tried a second time. "Is that a piece of shell?"
Knowing that an answer to his temperamental brother's question was not actually necessary, Leo's dewy eyes just stared down at his open hand. There, in his palm, laid the bloodied, jagged piece of Donnie's carapace that he had found inside of his genius brother's duffle bag.
Balling his fists until his green knuckles turned white, Raphael threw his head back and let out an earsplitting roar. It sounded as though his inner beast had just been unleashed. He could feel his blood start to boil and his skin felt like it was about to burst into flames. His chest began to heave and his entire body went rigid as uncontainable anger coursed through his veins.
Mikey unsteadily got to his feet and approached his brothers.
"Donnie . . . he has to be okay. He just has to," Mikey whimpered, no louder than a whisper. He then reached out to clasp a hand around one of each of his two oldest brother's arms. "If anything happens to him . . . I just . . . I would never be able to live with myself knowing that he . . . that he died thinking we . . . we didn't care about him. Thinking that he was useless."
Mikey peered up at his brothers with a shattered expression that implied his whole world had just come crashing down upon him.
For a fleeting instant, Leo couldn't voice a response, afraid that if he dared to try, his self-control would come apart at the seams. Seeing his baby brother so visibly distraught and his immediate younger brother about to completely lose it made Leo feel as though he was going to be sick. The oldest brother thought that he, too, was going to lose it, but then, he remembered what his father had told him about keeping a level-head at all times, even when things were at their darkest . . .
"Leonardo, as leader, you cannot let your emotions control you. You have accepted the responsibility of leading your brothers, and with that responsibility, comes a great deal of obligation and burden. Above all else, you must stay strong and be the beacon that navigates your brothers to safety. They need you to keep balance at all times and it is critical that you remain calm and steady when faced with danger and hardship. If you cannot keep your feelings in check, you will not be able to protect your brothers."
Drawing in a deep breath, Leo forced himself to calm down. His brothers needed him to stay confident and poised, no matter what. If he couldn't keep it together, how could he keep the team together? How could they save Donatello? They needed a vigilant and resilient leader to step up and guide them through or they would all fail. Even though inside, Leo felt as though everything had just fallen apart, he could not let his brothers see this weakness. He had to stay strong for Donnie's sake.
"Don't cry, Mikey. I promise you that we're going to get Donnie back. We aren't going home without our brother," Leo vowed with newfound determination. He then placed his hand on his youngest brother's shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly.
"Yeah, and when we find whoever did this, I'm gonna kill 'em!" Raph added and there was a look of pure hatred glowing in his eyes.
Though Leonardo did not approve of his volatile brother's murderous threat, he did sympathize with the blind rage that Raphael was feeling right now. The hothead wasn't the only turtle who wanted to see whoever had done this to their little brother suffer in the worst possible way imaginable, but Leo had to remind himself to not let his anger cloud his judgment again. At least, not until they rescued their missing brother . . .
But once they got a hold of the monster that had hurt Donnie, Leo was pretty sure that all bets would be off . . .
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To be continued . . .
*Author's Notes: Ooh, Tiger Claw and Grizzgore better watch out. Raph and Leo are seriously ticked off . . . ~\(>o<)/~
Once again, if you are enjoying 'Lost in the Fight,' please continue to read/vote on/comment on the story. I LOVE the feedback! Thank you so much for reading. ;) CJ