*Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.
*Author's Notes: Here's chapter 32 of 'Lost in the Fight' and this one's a bit dramatic.
Thank you very, very much for reading, voting, and/or commenting on 'LITF.' I am extremely grateful to all of you. As always, please continue to leave feedback if you are enjoying this story.
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Chapter 32 - His Worst Enemy
The pillow his face was smushed into felt exceptionally hard and cold this morning. So hard, it felt like it was made of concrete. Keeping his eyes sealed shut, Donnie feebly lifted a hand towards his face and patted around the surface surrounding his head.
That's because it is concrete, genius.
Donatello groaned when he realized that he must have fallen asleep while working in his lab again. He didn't remember doing so, but it wasn't like he remembered doing it any other time before. This was one of the many downfalls of sleep deprivation. Sometimes his body would simply shutdown without his say-so and essentially go into 'standby mode' for an unknown duration. His working theory was that once he reached a certain level of exhaustion, the pent-up melatonin in his system would cause his body to temporarily cease functioning. He would, in turn, collapse onto the nearest flat surface, such as his desk, his table, or in this case, it seemed to be the floor.
He supposed he should have been thankful for his unexpected blackout. After all, it was the first time in six days he hadn't awoken with a start.
The constant nightmares he had been suffering from were taking an enormous toll on him. Ever since he had come out of his comatose state, his nightmares had gotten progressively worse and his amount of sleep had steadily become less and less. The past three days, he hadn't gotten more than an hour of sleep, tops. It seemed as though he would no sooner close his eyes and he'd be trapped in yet another ghastly dream.
Weakly lifting his head up off the floor, Donnie pried his eyes open and looked around the room, hoping to spy something that might spark his memory of what he had been working on before his body's complete power failure. Nothing triggered any kind of recollection. In fact, nothing looked familiar at all. Blinking his eyes furiously, Donnie tried to make sense of what he was seeing – or rather what he wasn't seeing.
It wasn't his lab.
It wasn't even the lair.
It was, however, somewhere he vaguely recognized. He had never actually been in this exact location before, but he had a pretty good idea where he was and it terrified him.
Using his good arm to push himself partway up off the floor, Donnie scanned his surroundings and his chest quickly tightened with overpowering dread.
No! His mind screamed out.
With his unbroken leg, he clumsily shoved himself backwards until his carapace scraped against a concrete wall. His heart began to gallop as the horrible realization started to sink in.
Heavy wrought iron bars and concrete encased him in what appeared to be a cell approximately five feet by five feet. Moonlight filtered down through an opening above him and soft light radiated in from the numerous torch wall sconces that lined a long, gothic-looking hall that stretched past his line of vision.
How? How is this possible? This can't be happening!
In a panic, Donnie examined himself for any new wounds or markings that might have explained how he had wound up in this place, but found none. The last lucid thing he remembered was that he had been plugging away at his computer in the laboratory. So how did he get here? He hadn't left the lair for weeks. Heck, he couldn't even leave his lab without assistance. None of this made any sense. He racked his brain for some kind of logical explanation, but nothing came to mind.
Unless . . .
The sound of footsteps approaching interrupted his troubled thoughts. Donnie instantly recognized the distinctive footfalls. It was a sound that haunted his nightmares.
"I see the prisoner has finally decided to wake." The portentous growl came from the enemy Donatello had come to fear the most, which was saying a lot, because he and his brothers had a great deal of enemies.
Donnie could feel his head shaking from side to side in disbelief, but he had no control over the motion. His body was temporarily disregarding his commands out of sheer shock.
"Shredder," was all that Donatello was able to gasp out, powerless to prevent the divulging quake of horror in his voice.
The towering man just stood there, fiercely glaring down at the frightened turtle for what felt like an eternity. It was clearly an intimidation tactic and it was working like a charm. Donnie's pulse was racing towards the speed of light and he felt as though his lungs couldn't take in enough air. It was like they were trying to shrink away in fear, just like the rest of his body was.
After a prolonged silence, Shredder opened the door of the cage and stepped inside. He then secured the door shut behind him, nearly getting his long, black cape caught in the closing door. Donnie would have found it humorous if not for the fact that he was scared out of his wits.
"How . . . how did I get here? Where are my brothers? What have you d – done to them?" The words had not sounded nearly as audacious as Donnie would have liked. With two of his limbs out of order, it was hard for the genius turtle to feel real confident about his chances of getting out of this predicament in one piece.
"I have done nothing to your brothers." The Shredder's response was brusque and he showed no emotion as he stood there, watching his prisoner intently.
Having the undivided attention of the Shredder was more than just a little unnerving. It was taking all of Donnie's willpower not to tuck himself inside his shell and hide in fear. Of course, the genius turtle knew he had no prayer at pulling off a stunt like that with a bulky splint strapped to his leg and a sling securely wrapped around him. At least his inability to shrink inside his shell spared him the ridicule that would have surely followed such a blatant act of cowardice.
A less spineless approach was needed.
Relying on the tiny amount of intestinal fortitude he still had remaining, Donatello somehow mustered up the courage to speak again. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.
"I don't believe you! How did you find me? Where are you keeping my brothers?"
Accusing the Shredder of lying? To his face no less? Probably not the wisest decision you've ever made, Donatello . . .
"If you know what is good for you, you will mind your tone. Your precious brothers have not been taken prisoner and you have my word that no harm has come to them. They are safe. It is not your brothers that you should be worrying about."
The last line that maliciously oozed out of Shredder made Donnie cringe and stole what little was left of his tenacity. The way Saki had uttered the words was nothing shy of disturbing.
The Shredder then loomed over the cowering turtle and the moonlight trickling in from overhead reflected off the multiple blades projecting out of the man's metal armor. It was a cruel reminder to Donatello of just how many razor-sharp blades were covering his enemy's body. Up until now, the brainy turtle had never truly had the opportunity to stop and appreciate the hazardous attire. That was because he was usually too preoccupied with getting his shell kicked.
I wonder how much time he spends a day sharpening and polishing those things, Donnie thought dryly, momentarily mesmerized by the overabundance of prongs distending from Shredder's shoulders. The brainy turtle guessed that his easily-amused baby brother would've been particularly impressed by the glimmering light show currently taking place above Donnie. Especially given Mikey's fetish for shiny objects.
After a while, the novelty of Shredder's apparel wore off and reality started to rear its ugly head once again.
Hello? Earth to Donatello! You're trapped in a cage with the Shredder! Stop staring at his outfit, you ignoramus! You've got far bigger problems to deal with here!
Claustrophobia was not a condition Donnie normally suffered from, but being enclosed in a confined space with their arch nemesis was apparently overwhelming enough to trigger a sudden onset of the anxiety disorder. He broke out into a cold sweat and felt as though he was on the verge of hyperventilating.
As the Shredder took a large step forward, Donnie attempted to back away from the man's advances, only to be reminded by the concrete wall behind him that there was nowhere to go. He was cornered in a small cell with the vengeful monster who was obsessed with seeing his family dead.
Oh, now there's a lovely sentiment . . .
Donnie vainly attempted to swallow down the asphyxiating lump stuck in his throat. Unable to take in air, he could just wordlessly stare up at Shredder as the man extended two long, steel blades out from the gauntlet on his right hand. Then, without warning, Shredder thrust his arm forward, and before Donatello could even try to defend himself, his head was awkwardly pinned against the wall. Shredder's balled up fist was nearly touching the turtle's throat and there was a gauntlet blade impaled into the wall on each side of Donatello's neck, effectively ensuring that he had no means of escape.
Thankfully, the Shredder's aim was accurate or Donnie would have been turtle shish kebab.
Crouching down over the ensnared turtle, Saki lowered his head so that it was merely inches away from his prisoner's face. This gave Donatello a close-up view of the severe scars that marred the man's features. The proximity was obviously too close for comfort, but something told Donatello that Shredder's intent was to make him as uncomfortable as possible.
Mission accomplished . . .
"I have been informed by my sources that you are the most intelligent of your brothers and that you are the one responsible for constructing all of your wretched clan's machinery and equipment, using nothing but leftover parts and junk," Shredder snarled in a low, sinister tone. He narrowed his eyes into ominous slivers as he continued to speak. "I have also been told that you know your way around Kraang technology and that you have been working on developing a retromutagen to reverse the effects of the Kraang's ooze. These are skills that would prove quite useful to me."
Donatello sullenly turned his face away from Shredder's scrutinizing stare. The genius turtle wasn't even sure if Saki's discolored right eye was fully functional anymore. Not that that really mattered right about now. Functional or not, it was still unnerving to have it boring into him.
All of a sudden, Donnie felt one of the blades on Shredder's other gauntlet dig into the flesh underneath his jawline. The man forced the turtle to lift his head up so that they were eye to eye again. With three blades now pressed up against him, Donatello was now incapable of turning away. He was forced to look into the enemy's eyes and those eyes caused his entire body to go rigid with fright.
"You will look at me when I address you, turtle." As Shredder made his threat, he pushed his blade further into the soft skin underneath Donatello's jaw.
A hiss of pain escaped through Donnie's clenched teeth when he felt the tip of the blade slice into his flesh, but he managed to stifle any further noise from coming out. He was determined to keep some of his dignity intact, although his now uncontrollable quivering and cringing against the wall probably weren't doing his dignity any favors.
"I am your master now and I will not tolerate disrespect. Do I make myself clear?"
Something about what the Shredder had just said instantly rubbed Donatello the wrong way.
"You are not my master! I will never serve you! I would rather die than work for you!" Donnie roared, finally getting his voice and gumption back. The blade wedged underneath his jaw cut even deeper into his skin as he yelled, but he didn't care. In fact, he didn't even feel it, for he was too distracted by his rage.
"I can grant such a request, but if you think that I will give you the satisfaction of a quick and painless death, you are gravely mistaken," came Shredder's ill-omened response. Every word was pure venom.
Donnie cast a defiant glare at Saki, as if he was issuing some kind of dare, nonverbally telling his enemy to prove it.
If his brothers would've been there, they wouldn't have believed Donatello's aggressive behavior. The genius turtle was having a pretty tough time believing it himself, but he just went with it, figuring he was going to be inhumanely tortured anyway.
"No matter what you do to me, I assure you, I will not break!" Donnie growled in a voice lower than he was used to hearing out of himself. The way he was acting and the things he was saying were making him wonder if he had somehow channeled the spirit of Raph. Then, he paid the price for it.
A challenge had been issued and the Shredder readily accepted. He removed the blade pressed against the front of the turtle's neck and drew his hand back. A moment later, the sickening sound of Donatello being smacked across the face hung in the stale air of the dungeon.
The slap knocked some sense back into Donnie and he soon regretted his decision to tick off the man who already wanted to skin him alive.
It's not wise to mess with the human can opener.
"You have no idea just what kind of unspeakable things I am capable of, child. And insolence will only make your retraining process that much more painful. I have plans for that brain of yours, and believe me, I have many excruciating ways of making you cooperate."
Donnie gulped when the Shredder slowly dragged the tip of one of his gauntlet blades down the side of his face. Saki didn't apply enough pressure to carve into the skin below, but it didn't feel good all the same. It was yet another successful intimidation tactic. Donatello knew without question that if Shredder wanted to, he could easily slice him open like an overripe piece of fruit. The man was just toying with him.
"Perhaps your first lesson should be taught by Tiger Claw and Grizzgore. The two of them have been seeking vengeance ever since they discovered you were still alive."
Filled with an overpowering sense of dread, Donatello vigorously shook his head 'no,' but immediately regretted it. With each movement of his head, he felt the blades against the sides of his neck score into his skin. He quickly ceased all motion other than pulling his face into a grimace.
Donnie could have sworn that the Shredder was smiling underneath his metal mask. Unfortunately, seeing the merciless man take gratification in his fear and suffering gave Donatello an unforeseen second wind.
"You're nothing but a coward! Always making your underlings do your work for you!" In hindsight, the smartest turtle probably should have thought his response through a little better.
Sewer apples! This is gonna hurt . . .
As to be expected, Donnie was struck across the face again for his impudence. This time, far harder than before, which made him instantly see stars, and then, psychedelic zigzags of color danced about his vision. Blinking feverishly, the genius turtle attempted to restore his now blurred eyesight, while at the same time, he glided his tongue against the inside of his teeth a couple of times to make sure they were all present and accounted for.
Note to self: Don't ever call Shredder a coward again.
"The same could be said of your Sensei."
Had Donatello actually heard the Shredder's callous statement, he most likely would have refuted it, but the blow to his head had temporarily rendered him deaf and incapable of thinking straight.
After a few more delayed seconds, Donnie was finally able to get his bearings back.
He soon found himself wishing he hadn't.
"Evidently, you are stubborn, just like your master. I will take pleasure in breaking you of that."
One would think that after getting hit twice for his brazenness, the most intelligent of the turtles would have learned to keep his mouth shut, but such was not the case.
"Well, you won't have a chance to break me of that! My brothers will come for me before you can get anything out of me!"
Despite the fact that Donatello's words had sounded totally cheesy and lacked pretty much all originality, it still felt good to say them.
"Your brothers." Shredder cackled just like all villains tended to do in these types of situations, much to Donatello's irritation. It was as if cackling was some sort of criminal code of conduct or part of the rulebook for bad guys. The genius turtle had oftentimes wondered if there was perhaps a convention out there someplace where villains gathered to swap pointers on evil laughs or share their other random best delinquent practices.
The vile cackle suddenly grew louder and more macabre, making it impossible for Donnie to ignore. The repulsive sound filled the whole chamber and sent a chill up and down the turtle's entire body.
"Foolish boy. Who do you think brought you here in the first place?"
"Wh – What?" The turtle's eyes widened in dawning horror.
As he slowly began to process what Saki had just said, Donatello could feel his heart start to thump irregularly inside of his chest and his breathing was thrown into a complete state of disarray.
No . . .
Shredder scoffed at the turtle's reaction.
"You heard what I said. Tell me, Donatello. How do you think you got here completely unscathed? Aren't you wondering why you have no memory of the event? It is because your brothers drugged you and brought you here. They delivered you right to my doorstep."
"No," Donnie gasped, not willing to believe what he was hearing. Not for a second. It couldn't be true. The Shredder was just trying to play cruel mind games with him to crush his spirit and inflict as much emotional pain as possible. Saki realized how close Donatello and his brothers were and the man was attempting to use it against him. The Shredder knew that if he could convince Donatello that his brothers had abandoned him, it would destroy him, but the genius turtle wasn't about to fall for such a transparent deception.
But if Donnie truly believed that the man was deceiving him, why did he have such a rancid feeling burning in the pit of his gut? Was it because he was afraid of the Shredder or was it because, deep down inside, he was afraid that what Saki was saying was true?
Beneath his kabuto, the Shredder's lips curled back into a sneer as he watched his captive's resilience crumble. He could almost hear the turtle's heart break.
"It seems your brothers felt you were too much of a burden and they didn't want you any longer. They asked me to take you off their hands," Shredder said without conscience, reveling in the turtle's anguish. He could see the torment in the boy's eyes.
"You're a liar! My brothers would never do that to me!" Once again, Donatello boldly accused the Shredder of lying. It was as if the most passive turtle had developed a sudden death wish.
Donatello braced himself for another strike, sure that his brash allegation would earn him another harsh blow to the face courtesy of his short-tempered adversary.
But the strike did not come. Well, at least not a physical one like Donnie had been expecting.
"If you are not willing to take my word for it, perhaps you will take your brother's." The Shredder elevated his voice as he spoke so that it was loud enough to carry down the hall. He then lifted his free hand and gave a gesture to indicate he wanted someone or something to come forth.
Soon after, a shadowy figure appeared and started to walk towards them.
Even with Donnie's still slightly distorted vision, he had no trouble recognizing the approaching form.
"Leo! Help me!"
Ignoring the blades burrowing into his flesh, Donnie craned his neck to get a better view of his oldest brother. Upon first glance, the genius turtle noticed that his blue-masked sibling's movements were unhurried and deliberate. There was no urgency in Leonardo's steps. There was no panic in his expression. There was no sign of fear or concern to be seen. Not even as he moved towards their most despised enemy, who had two gauntlet blades pressed against his terrified little brother's neck.
Every inch of Donatello's body started to tremble as he watched his big brother draw nearer. When Leonardo came to a halt just outside of the cell door, he dropped his hands limply at his sides. That was when Donnie saw the remorseful expression on his oldest brother's face.
That look. It was all the confirmation Donatello needed.
At long last, Shredder pulled his gauntlet blades out of the wall.
Once freed, Donatello awkwardly fell forward onto his good arm. Gritting his teeth in pain, the wounded turtle feebly pushed himself up into a sitting position and stared at his brother, not paying any attention to the fact that Shredder was still standing right beside him. All Donnie could focus on right now was Leo.
"You . . . you did this?"
Leonardo didn't answer the question. He didn't have to.
"Why?"
"Donatello, please don't make this any harder than it needs to be." Unable to hide his remorse, Leonardo turned his head away from his genius brother while he spoke.
"Why!" Donnie repeated, using considerably more volume and intensity than before. His glossy eyes glowed with a mixture of hurt and indignation.
"I'm sorry, Donnie, but we just can't give you what you need anymore, emotionally or physically. We don't have access to the medications or treatments you require. Without them, you'll never fully recover. Shredder . . . he promised me that he would provide you with the medical care you need."
"What?" Donatello snorted incredulously, certain that he had heard his brother wrong.
"Donnie . . . you once said it yourself. It's better this way. You're . . . you're a liability to us now. We don't have the time or the resources to take care of you all the time. Shredder can provide you with everything you need." Not wanting to see the hurt in his little brother's eyes, Leonardo kept his gaze fixed on the floor.
"So what? You just called Shredder up and cut some kind of a deal with a man who wants us dead? The best solution you could come up with was to just hand your own brother over to your most hated enemy? All because I'm not healing up to your expectations?" As intelligent as Donatello was, he could not follow his older brother's logic at all. This was insane. Leonardo had clearly lost his mind.
"Like I said, we can't take care of you anymore and protect the city. We had to make a choice. If it makes you feel any better, this decision wasn't unanimous by any means. We argued back and forth about it for days, but in the end, as the team leader, I had to do what was best for the family. Trust me, Donnie, this was the hardest decision I've ever had to make."
"Decision? This isn't just some decision, Leo! This is my life!" Donnie's voice cracked while he shrieked out the words. Tears began to gather in his sorrowful eyes as he added, "What makes you think this is for the best? Shredder already attacked me and threatened to torture me! You can't just leave me here with him!"
"Donnie, please don't. This is hard enough as it is."
"I'm your brother! How can you do this to me?"
Leonardo's only response was to turn his head even further away.
"Look at me, Leo! At least do me the courtesy of looking me in the eyes!" Inching closer to the bars of his cell, Donatello peered up at his older brother beseechingly.
Granting his genius brother's request, Leo's eyes finally fell upon Donnie for the first time since his arrival in the Shredder's dungeon and the injured turtle shuddered at what he saw.
A heavy sigh exhaled out of Leonardo before he spoke again.
"I really didn't want to have to do this, Donnie, but you leave me no choice," Leo groaned, frustrated that Donnie was forcing him to be brutally honest. The turtle in blue had hoped it would not come to the ugly truth, but he should have known better than to think that his obstinate little brother would just accept his fate.
"We don't need you anymore, okay! There! I said it! Are you happy now?"
The words made Donatello feel like his brother had just struck him down with his katanas.
The tears now fell uncontestedly down Donatello's bruised cheeks as he watched his oldest brother's eyes fill with anger. The same brother that Donnie had always looked up to. The brother that he had always admired more than anyone. The brother that he had secretly always wanted to be the most like.
Leo was now the brother who had broken him past the point of possible repair.
"Face it, Donnie! You're completely useless to us now and the last thing we need is your deadweight dragging us down any further. After all, we've got Casey to fix all of our mechanical stuff. April can take care of the technical stuff you used to. Sensei and I can cover the medical stuff. And Mikey and Raph can handle everything else. Like I said, we don't need you, Donnie." The lines were cold and flat, spoken as though Leonardo had rehearsed what he was going to say beforehand.
"No!" Donnie wailed out, unable to put any other words to his indescribable grief. His whole body was going numb from the shock. It felt as if his whole life had just collapsed all around him.
"You're nothing but a burden to us, Donnie. You always have been, even before you were injured. We . . . we just can't take care of you anymore. It's tearing our family apart," Leo muttered, almost apologetically as he reached a hand forward and wrapped his fingers around one of the bars of Donnie's cell.
"Before I go, I need you to promise me one thing, Donatello. Swear to me that you won't ever tell Shredder the location of the lair. I know you probably hate me right now, but you have to protect the family above all else."
"I would never do anything to hurt any of you."
"Swear it!" The firmness in Leonardo's tone made the genius turtle flinch.
"I . . . I swear it." Though Donnie's voice was on the brink of failure, his words were true. He would never break his vow. There was nothing the enemy could say or do to him that would make him put his family in danger. That was because there was nothing the enemy could say or do to him that would cause him more pain and suffering than what his own brother had caused him just now.
"Goodbye, Donnie." With that said, Leonardo turned his back to his second youngest brother and started down the long corridor leading away from Donatello's prison cell.
The finality of those words was what ultimately caused the genius turtle's composure to crumple like a piece of burning paper.
"No! Leo! Please! Please, don't leave!" Donnie called out to his older brother, but Leo just kept right on walking. He didn't show any signs of hesitation or turning back, even as his younger brother repeatedly screamed his name.
Watching Leonardo disappear into the darkness, Donatello had never felt so utterly alone in all of his life, but a revolting laugh beside him reminded him that he was not in fact alone.
Donnie stared up at the man that he had almost forgotten was still there. Or maybe he just plain didn't care that he was there anymore . . .
"You work for me now!" The Shredder growled, constricting his eyes into wrathful slits as he pulled back his fist and forcibly pitched a gauntlet blade straight through Donatello's wounded shoulder.
A blood-curdling scream erupted from the broken turtle, forming the word "LEO!"
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A shriek of terror had been trapped inside his throat when his body had shot bolt upright in the middle of the night. He had prayed that he hadn't emitted any actual noise or outcry as he had gotten up, for he hadn't wanted to draw any unnecessary attention to the fact that he was awake.
He hadn't initially realized that he wasn't actually alone. There had been someone standing right beside him when he had awoken, but for the first several minutes after waking, he had been oblivious to their presence.
What breathing Donatello had been able to carry out at the time had come in small, short mouthfuls and his hammering heart had felt as though it was about to burst inside of his rib cage. In his trembling hands, he had clenched a twisted, sweat-soaked blanket, restraining the worn fabric against his injured shoulder like a shield.
He could still feel the stabbing pain.
He could still hear all the awful words.
He could still remember every single repugnant detail.
Leo had been there, and then, he was gone . . . figuratively and literally.
As his senses had slowly started to return to him, Donatello had become aware of the fact that he was not alone, but this realization had not been accompanied by a feeling of fear. Just a feeling of unconditional sadness. Through his tormented, teary eyes, he had stared up at the individual standing over him. That individual then left the room to retrieve a glass of water, leaving Donnie to gape out into the shadows fully enclosing him. His weary, reddish-brown orbs had just stared blankly ahead, blind to what actually laid before him. All he had been able to see were vivid memories rerunning in his head, like a streaming video looping over and over again. Had the images he had been viewing simply been the result of a standard feed repeating a video, he had the technical know-how to stop them cold, but he had no idea how to shut off the images repeating in his brain.
His mind was now his worst enemy . . .
In his head, Donnie could still see Leo walking away and it had made it almost impossible not to cry.
The sound of footsteps approaching had effectively distracted him from breaking down.
The owner of the footsteps had carried a tall glass of water in his hand, just as he had promised. He had then walked up to Donatello and held the glass up to the injured turtle's lips, motioning for him to drink. Donnie had done as silently instructed.
When Donatello had signaled that he was done, the glass had been pulled away and set down on the nearest hard surface. The badly wounded turtle had then felt two strong arms wrap around him and hoist him up. As he had been carried away, he had felt himself start to shiver uncontrollably in the powerful grip.
That was ten minutes ago . . .
Ignoring the sound of his name being called out for the second time, Donnie wearily stared at the mirror over the bathroom sink that he was desperately clinging to. He recoiled at the reflection showing back at him. Releasing his hold on the sink so he could pick up a tattered towel, he attempted to swab the glass of the mirror clean. He was hoping that if he cleaned off all the spots, he might improve the image before him, but no matter how hard he wiped, he couldn't erase the ghastly reflection.
It was appalling. He was appalling.
The much older-looking version of himself staring back at him made him sick to his stomach. What skin wasn't covered with a multitude of colors from faded bruises, was unnaturally ashen, bearing no semblance of his once healthy olive green complexion. His face was hollowed and sunken in, as though someone had sucked every last ounce of elasticity and subcutaneous fat from him with a straw. His eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed, presumably from his lack of sleep.
The grotesque being in the mirror was taunting him, showing him that he was just as messed up externally as he was internally. The small consolation was that most of his external transformations would eventually heal. The internal ones, however . . . Well, Donnie was becoming more and more convinced that they never would.
It felt as though there was another being trapped inside of his body and it was desperately trying to scratch and claw its way out through his skin. The very skin that masked his every inward emotion from his family. On the inside, he was a train wreck, but his outward appearance constantly conveyed the unrevealing façade he put up merely to appease his family.
The Donatello they had known all of their lives . . .
The Donatello they wanted . . .
He was slipping away, being dragged into an infinite abyss of darkness and gloom. And for the life of him, the genius turtle didn't know how to repair this.
His name sounded out for the third time from the other side of the door. Still, just as soft. Still, just as calm as the first two times it had been uttered.
Donnie's thoughts shifted to his oldest brother once more and he had to return his shaky hand to the sink for support.
The merciless voices in his head started up again.
"We don't need you anymore!"
"You're completely useless to us now and the last thing we need is your deadweight dragging us down any further."
"You're nothing but a burden to us, Donnie. You always have been, even before you were injured."
Donatello would have shut his eyes to the pain, but he was afraid if he did, another nightmare would be waiting for him behind closed eyelids. Hence the reason for his lack of sleep. The nightmares just kept coming, each one more traumatizing than the one before. Each disturbing dream would give the voices in his head more material to work with. The particular nightmare he was presently attempting to recover from was no exception.
"It's better this way. You're . . . you're a liability to us now. We don't have the time or the resources to take care of you all the time."
The words hurt, even with the knowledge that they were only from a dream. Donatello had read numerous articles on dream interpretation and he knew that psychologists around the globe widely contended that dreams were a symbolic representation of one's subconscious thoughts. If this theory was indeed accurate, it meant that not only were his conscious thoughts out to get him, but now, his subconscious ones were, too.
Seriously? My own mind is committing mutiny. Like I don't have enough problems as it is, Donnie thought grimly, half-tempted to slap himself in the back of the head, the same way that Raph liked to smack them whenever they were frustrating him.
"Donnie, are you okay in there?" The same voice came again and there was a subsequent knock at the door.
'No' was the first word that popped into Donnie's head, but he didn't bother to vocalize an actual response. He was too preoccupied with staring at his unsightly reflection.
Donnie could see in the mirror that the door was slowly being opened behind him.
Aw, come on! I'm in the bathroom, for shell's sake! Can't a turtle get a little privacy?
The resident genius was mentally kicking himself for not locking the door upon his entrance. Sure, he wasn't doing anything other than standing there looking at his image in the mirror, but it was a matter of principle. As far as he was concerned, it was completely unethical to enter a restroom without permission, family or not.
A loud sigh deflated out of Donatello as he tried in vain to dig his fingers into the sides of the service sink, feeling an intense need to latch onto something stable. At least something that was more stable than him.
"Donnie?" Leonardo breathed out the word as he quietly padded into the bathroom, trying not to spook his wounded sibling. The oldest turtle's face was wrought with concern while he stared at his brother's reflection in the mirror.
It was Leo who had rescued Donnie from the throes of his latest nightmare. The blue-clad turtle had gotten up in the middle of the night to get some aspirin for a blossoming headache when he had heard strange noises coming from the lab. Forgetting all about his original purpose and the headache, Leo had rushed into the infirmary where he had found his second youngest brother in the midst of what looked to be a terrifying nightmare. Much to the oldest turtle's horror, Donatello had been wildly tossing about in his sleep, whimpering Leo's name and hoarsely crying out for him not to leave. It had been enough to make the leader's heart sink to the floor. Not willing to let his brother needlessly suffer or risk him injuring himself, Leo had grasped Donnie's good shoulder and attempted to gently shake him back into consciousness. Before long, the injured turtle had jerked awake from his dream, instantly latching onto his blanket and holding onto it for dear life while he had tried to get his bearings back.
After a minute or so of confusion, Donatello had finally become cognizant of the fact that his oldest brother was standing over his cot. That was when the genius turtle had gazed up at Leonardo with the most traumatized expression the oldest turtle had ever seen. Just seeing the devastated look on Donnie's face had brought tears to Leo's eyes. He couldn't help but wonder what Donnie had been dreaming about to get him so worked up, but Leo's first priority had been to get his panic-stricken brother to calm down, not to prod him for the gory details.
When Leonardo had heard the wheezing in Donatello's breathing, he had rushed off to the kitchen to get a glass of cold water for his younger brother. After Donnie had drank his fill of water, the oldest turtle had unhooked his brother's IV and carefully picked him up so he could transport him to the restroom. Once they had gotten there, Donatello had insisted on doing 'things' by himself. Leo had reluctantly agreed, but he had stayed posted right outside of the bathroom door, just in case something happened.
After about ten minutes had passed, Leo had called out Donnie's name several times. When no reply had followed, the oldest turtle had decided to enter the bathroom to check on his distraught brother. Though Leonardo had not wanted to possibly humiliate Donnie by walking in on him while he was in the bathroom, his concern for his injured sibling's emotional and physical well-being had overridden his obligation to respect his brother's entreaty for privacy. Plus, Leo had assumed that ten minutes had been more than enough time for Donnie to conduct any basic bodily functions.
When Leonardo had stepped inside of the bathroom, he had found Donatello stooped over the sink, using the basin and his good leg to sustain his weight. Now, Donnie had turned towards him, but it was obvious to Leonardo that his younger brother couldn't bring himself to look him in the eyes.
Unable to hold himself up a moment longer, the genius turtle went through the rather clumsy and painful process of lowering himself down onto the closed lid of the toilet right beside the sink that he had just been hunched over. Once he was situated on the seat, Donnie rested his unsheathed elbow on top of his thigh and let his head drop into his unsteady hand.
Crouching down in front of his little brother, Leonardo gently squeezed one of his hands around Donnie's forearm. The leader in blue could see that his brother's body was coated in thin layer of sweat, so Leo got back up and grabbed a clean washcloth and ran it under tepid water for a few seconds. After shutting off the faucet, he wrung out the cloth and squatted down next to Donnie again. Leonardo then began to wipe Donatello's skin with the lukewarm washcloth, making sure to keep his movements soothing and gentle in hopes that it might help to calm his troubled brother.
"I need you to talk to me, Donnie," Leo pleaded as he continued to softly swab away the sweat and tears from his little brother's skin. The oldest turtle could see and feel that Donatello was trembling violently and he could hear how irregular his wounded brother's breathing was.
"Please, Donnie."
The genius turtle twisted his gaze away from Leo, once again refusing to communicate what was going on inside of his head.
"It was a real bad one, huh? You know, it might make you feel better if you tell me about it."
Lightly dabbing the damp washcloth along Donnie's neck, Leonardo noticed that his brother shuddered at his touch, which made the older turtle's heart clench.
Is he shuddering because of the nightmare or because of me?
"Donnie, please! Let me help you. Tell me what's bothering you," Leo tried again, but Donnie just adamantly shook his head and looked down at his big brother with a shattered expression. It was more than the oldest turtle could bear.
Draping the washcloth over the side of the sink, Leo got to his feet and carefully scooped his little brother up into his arms, cradling him to his body like he was holding a small child. Leo then rested his forehead against Donnie's head for a moment before carrying his younger brother out of the bathroom. Much to the genius turtle's surprise, Leonardo headed in the direction of the brothers' bedrooms rather than the infirmary. Once inside of Donatello's bedroom, the oldest turtle peeled back the covers on the bed that had been vacant for weeks and laid his brother down. Leo made sure that Donnie was comfortable, and even went so far as to tuck his younger brother in, before taking a few steps back.
"Leo." As Donnie whispered his brother's name, he reached his hand out towards him. "Please . . . don't leave me. Not like in the dream."
The grief in Donatello's voice made Leo almost feel the need to apologize for whatever unspeakable things he had done in his little brother's dream, but he instead clasped his sibling's frail hand in one of his own. Leonardo then placed his other hand on the top of Donnie's head and stroked it affectionately.
"Just close your eyes, Donnie. I promise you, I'm not going anywhere." Leo then pulled up a chair so he could settle in for the night. He wasn't about to leave his little brother's side. Not for anything.
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To be continued . . .
*Author's Notes: Awww, Donnie is so very sad. This chapter breaks my heart every time I read it. 😢
Thank you all so much for sticking with my story. I really appreciate it and I hope that you liked this chapter. Please let me know if you did. Thanks, again, and have a great weekend! 😉 CJ