*Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.
*Author's Notes: Here's the latest chapter of 'Lost in the Fight' and this one's a bit of a roller coaster ride. It contains angst, humor, yelling, cuteness, suspense, Donnie drama, Mikey antics, Raph rage, Leo anxiety – lots of good stuff. ;)
Thank you so much to all of my readers and followers. You are all wonderful. <3
I hope you enjoy the chapter . . . ;) CJ
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Chapter 35 - Should'ves
"Donnie! You better have one shelluva good excuse for not answering us!" The words cut through the air like the sharpest of knives as a very angry Hamato Raphael vaulted over a turnstile and leapt down the set of stairs that immediately followed. He then veered left and headed straight for his genius brother's laboratory. His other two brothers were right on his tail, just as panicked as he was, but not quite as vocal about it.
Raph slid the lab doors open and stormed inside, not even bothering to knock before entering. He was mad enough to skip such formalities. Besides, he figured his yelling was adequate notification that he was approaching.
Donnie's three brothers were understandably tense.
All the way back to the lair, they had passed the time by randomly pointing out possible explanations for why Donnie hadn't answered them, including such gems as:
"His phone must not be working."
"He's probably so caught up with one of his projects, he just didn't hear our texts or calls."
"It could be that he's taking a long, hot bubble bath."
"Or he could've invented something that locked him in the garage again."
"Maybe he just went to bed."
Then, there was Mikey's personal favorite contribution that he had made to the list . . .
"OOOOOOH! Maybe he's watching MTV and learning how to 'Dougie!'"
That one had earned him a slap to the back of the head.
Of course, all of them had just been spouting off guesses because they didn't want to actually admit that they were scared to death that something bad had happened to their genius brother. It wasn't like Donnie to not answer his T-phone. They all knew what had happened the last time he hadn't responded to their calls . . .
"Donnie! Where the heck are you?" What little was left of Raph's patience had just run dry and his now overwhelming sense of rage was impairing his capabilities of thinking straight. He needed to hit something and he needed to hit it hard. He stomped around the laboratory, hunting for both his brother and something to slam his fists into.
"I'll go check the rest of the lair." The unusual somberness of Mikey's tone revealed that something was weighing heavily on his mind. Without waiting for his older brothers' authorization, he turned and hurried out of the lab to search the remainder of their home for his brainy big brother, calling out his name as he went.
"Donnie! Answer me right now or I'm gonna give you a serious beat down!"
Leonardo rolled his eyes, thinking how wholly inappropriate Raph threatening to beat down Donnie was after all that had happened. What if their genius brother was lying somewhere hurt? Just the thought made the oldest turtle feel like throwing up, but then again, Leo's stomach had been queasy ever since Mikey had told him that their wounded brother wasn't answering his texts.
The three turtles had been covertly spying on a few Purple Dragons from a rooftop in Chinatown when Mikey had broken the bad news. At that point, Donnie had neglected to respond to three of the youngest turtle's messages. Thinking maybe something was up with Mikey's T-phone, or perhaps Mikey himself, Leo had promptly fired off a text to his smartest brother, but no response had followed. That had gotten Leo moderately rattled, but when his injured brother had failed to answer his call, that was when the 'fearless' leader had practically gone into hysterics. While Leo 'had a freakin' cow' – as Raph had so eloquently put it – the hotheaded turtle had taken his turn at texting Donnie. Yet again, no response had followed. This had sent Mikey into a tizzy, and in his panic, he had sent the genius turtle two more texts. Still nothing. That was when they had decided to abandon their patrol for the night and rush back to the lair.
As they had scaled across the rooftops and sprinted through the New York City sewers in the direction of the lair, Leo had continued to dial Donnie's number over and over again. With each unanswered call, the blue-masked turtle's stomach condition had grown worse than before. The whole trip home, he hadn't been able to stop himself from thinking about possible worst-case scenarios. His mind kept reverting back to that awful night when Donnie had been critically injured. The night that they had come so close to losing him.
Their minds were all reverting back to that ill-fated night, but none more so than Leonardo's. He couldn't help but to worry that the Shredder may have somehow discovered the location of the lair. Master Splinter had warned Leo that Shredder would stop at nothing to get Donatello now that he knew the second youngest turtle was the brains of the operation. Perhaps Shredder had just been assiduously watching and waiting for an opportunity to strike, like a bloodthirsty predator stalking its prey. Maybe this whole time, he had just been standing by, waiting for the family to leave Donatello alone in the lair so that he and/or his followers could go after the genius turtle again. Just like they had done the night that Tiger Claw and Grizzgore had tried to take Donatello away from them.
What if we played right into Shredder's gauntlets? Leo asked himself.
We should've never left him alone . . .
The sound of Raph growling and nearly ripping the garage door off its tracks snapped Leo out his dark thoughts. Turning his gaze towards the now open door, Leonardo watched on silently as his temperamental brother stormed into the garage with his fists clenched at his sides. The turtle in blue was sure if someone dared to dump a bucket of cold water over Raph right now, steam would literally rise off him. Of course, Leo pitied anyone stupid enough to dump a bucket of water over Raph. The hotheaded turtle would kill them where they stood . . .
Even on a good day, Raphael was a turtle not to be messed with, but the Raphael currently standing before Leo was teetering on the edge of sanity. All the muscles in the volatile turtle's body were corded with tension and every vein he had was about to burst from the fury now coursing through him. Raph didn't deal with stress all that constructively. Mostly, he just broke things.
Leo entered the garage with cautious steps, making sure to keep a safe distance between himself and his unstable sibling. The oldest turtle had no desire to be the thing that Raph broke.
"DONNIE! Get your scrawny shell out here!"
It was painfully obvious that Raphael was struggling through some anger management issues and was in major need of a timeout, but Leo didn't dare suggest this course of action, as he was quite confident that his immediate younger brother would crack his shell open like he was a walnut.
"DONATELLO!" Though Leonardo called out his missing brother's name with far less anger than Raph had, his voice had carried just as much force and volume behind it.
The red-masked turtle wasn't the only one on the verge of panic. Every second that ticked by that they didn't find Donnie was another hour or two off Leo's life expectancy. He could feel his chest constricting with anxiety.
Several minutes of silent searching went by before the sound of their baby brother reentering the lab almost made Leo and Raph jump right out of their shells.
"Guys! I couldn't find him! Did you have any luck?" When his two oldest brothers failed to answer his very simple question, Mikey took their lack of response as a 'no.'
The youngest turtle got an icky feeling in the pit of his gut, sort of like that time he had chugged down an entire carton of milk to get rid of the wicked bad taste in his mouth after eating that highly-experimental 'see-food' pizza he had made. Raph had bet him that he couldn't eat the entire pizza in less than ten minutes. Eight minutes and forty-three seconds later, Mikey had won the bet. Unfortunately, about eleven minutes and one quart of milk later, Mikey had started blowing chunks like a boss. This went on for three hours straight, but it had been soooooooo worth it. Once Mikey had been able to stand upright again, Raph had had to hand over his latest issue of 'Corps Cadavres' as promised.
Good times, good times . . .
Mikey steepled his fingers together as his round face twisted into an impish grin, but his expression soon changed into a grimace when it dawned on him that he had totally lost his train of thought. He was supposed to be looking for his missing brother, not taking a stroll down memory lane.
Come on, dude. Get your head in the game!
Plopping down onto Donnie's blue task chair, Mikey reached for the mouse and jostled it to wake up his big brother's computer. He was hoping that Donnie had left some evidence behind on his desktop screen that might lead them to his whereabouts.
Unfortunately, the genius turtle hadn't left anything open on his computer desktop. However, he had left something on his 'desk' desktop.
"Uh, guys!" Mikey called out to his two oldest brothers. When they didn't respond in less than three seconds, he tried once again to get their attention. This time, he went about it in much louder fashion. "GUYS!"
Hearing the distress in Mikey's voice, Leo and Raph came running back into the lab, nearly tripping over each other in the process. The two oldest turtles spotted Mikey sitting at Donnie's desk and quickly made their way over to their youngest brother.
Once he had his brothers' attention, Mikey nervously pointed at the items he had noticed on the desk.
As soon as Raph saw the T-phone and sling lying on top of Donatello's desk, he finally lost all control. Letting out a guttural roar, the hotheaded turtle started propelling his fists into whatever objects in the lab were unfortunate enough to be in his path. First, he punched the desk a few times, followed by Donnie's Turtle (Testudines) poster on the wall, and then, he began to pummel a nearby gas cylinder, which really didn't seem to Leo like the safest thing in the lab to be clobbering.
Yeah, because blowing us all to Kingdom come is going to help Donnie . . . Leo groaned in his head.
Luckily, Raph soon moved onto trying to break through the concrete walls with his knuckles, saving Leo from having to voice his concerns about the consequences of pounding on an explosive container.
Just as the turtle in red was about to slam his now bruised hands into a defenseless sewer pipe, a pair of muscular arms wrapped around him from behind and impeded his intended act of violence. Raph grunted in disgust, trying to shake off the arms, but they only gripped him tighter.
"Raph . . . it's okay, bro. I'm super worried about him, too." Mikey held onto his second oldest brother with all his might until he could finally feel him start to relax in his grasp. Raph then dropped his head down and enclosed one of his hands around Mikey's forearm, squeezing it firmly. It was probably the closest to a hug Mikey was going to get out of his temperamental brother, so he just stayed perfectly still, afraid if he did anything else, he would somehow ruin the moment.
"I can't go through this again. I can't lose him. I . . . I just can't." Although Raph's voice had started off strong, it ended in a whisper. He then pressed the fingertips of his free hand into his eye sockets to staunch the tears he didn't want his brothers to see.
In an attempt to keep his own composure in check, Leonardo shifted his eyes away from his two younger brothers so he could do a visual scan of the laboratory in search of clues. At first glance, nothing appeared to be out of place, but a second glance around the lab revealed that there were, in fact, several items not where they should be. They were missing to be exact.
"Guys, I think I know where Donnie went."
"What? Where?" Raph gasped out, nearly choking on his words as he rather abruptly shrugged Mikey off him. Apparently, the brief moment of brotherly fluff was over and done with and the red-clad turtle was now back to his highly aggressive self.
"His duffle bag is missing and so are those cameras that were sitting on his table. I think he's out working on the lair's security system."
"But why would he go off without leaving a note . . . or without his T-phone or his sling?"
"I don't know, Mikey, but when I find him, he's gonna need a sling for the other arm!" Raph snarled, marching out of the lab. He had a brother to yell at, and for once, it wasn't Mikey or Leo.
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It was getting harder and harder to hear the footsteps coming closer over the deafening pounding of his heart. He felt his throat narrow in anxiety and his body had broken out into a cold sweat.
Think of something, genius!
Summoning forth the compromised remains of his mental faculties, he quickly filtered through the host of excuses for why he had left the lair. Dozens of reasons swam through his head, none of which were plausible enough to get him out of trouble. Unless the lair had miraculously burned to the ground while he had been out, no excuse he could fabricate for his little excursion would be able to save his shell. His brothers were going to be beyond furious with him.
Of course they had to pick tonight to come home early . . .
Donatello sighed and momentarily rested the back of his head against the concrete tunnel wall.
At least he had gotten one more taste of freedom before he was grounded for life.
And you're supposed to be the smart one . . .
The sound of splashing growing nearer pulled him out of his derogatory thoughts so he could better focus on his impending doom.
He lifted his head back up and attentively listened for the unique nuances in his brothers' footfalls, trying to figure out which order they were travelling in so he knew who would tear into him first. Would it be his oldest brother leading the way? Or had Mikey and Leo stepped aside and allowed Raph to take the front, knowing that if they didn't, he'd eventually just shove them out of the way in order to get to his primary target?
Well, if there's a bright side to all of this, I guess it's that Raph beating the crap out of me will be a nice change of pace from the whole condescending patting thing, Donatello thought, keeping himself bitterly optimistic. As he sought out the silver lining in the situation, he continued listening to the approaching footsteps.
The problem was, he didn't hear the subtle differences that he should have if it was in fact his brothers drawing near. None of the footsteps were slapping down noticeably harder than the others – indicating Raph and/or Mikey – nor was one set of footsteps significantly quieter and nimble – indicating Leo.
That's when the genius turtle realized that there wasn't anything that made the footsteps distinctive from one another, the way they would have been if it was his three brothers moving towards him. That's when the genius turtle finally realized it wasn't his brothers.
For a moment, Donnie felt an impetuous sense of relief wash over him now that he knew his brothers hadn't uncovered the truth, but it didn't take long for his extraordinary brain to rise to the occasion and inform him that this new revelation wasn't necessarily a good thing. If there were enemies closing in on his position, he wasn't going to stand much of a chance against them with only one functional arm and leg.
Oh, and don't forget the fact that you decided to go off on your own with no weapon and no way of contacting your brothers! Way to think things through, genius!
He bit back a growl that was just itching to come out, figuring it was probably more crucial at this point to keep his presence a secret than to growl in spite of himself.
After a second or two of deliberation, he decided that his current best course of action would be to get out of sight as soon as turtley possible. He quickly began to inspect the underground tunnel for potential escape routes or hiding spaces.
There was no visible manhole cover or access to the surface in close proximity, so he instantly ruled out fleeing topside. However, he did spy a cut across tunnel a little ways from where he stood. He was pretty sure that tunnel led to a wider area of the sewers that, if memory served him correctly, contained a series of overhead drainage pipes. If he was indeed correct in his assumption, that meant that the area the cut across led to had at least two large pipes suspended from above – separate pipes for waste and storm water. Those pipes could provide him with some much-needed coverage, and perhaps keep him concealed from whoever was down there with him in the sewers. Of course, if whoever it was had the sense to just look up, the genius turtle would essentially be a sitting duck . . .
Well, technically, I guess I'd be a sitting turtle, Donnie corrected his own thoughts, not-so cleverly tweaking the old idiom to suit his purposes and circumstances.
Let's just hope that they don't look up . . .
A nervous grimace passed over Donatello's features.
Granted, it wasn't the greatest plan he'd ever come up with, but it wasn't like he had a myriad of other alternatives to pick and choose from. He could count his viable choices on one hand, give or take a few fingers.
Utilizing the pipes was his best option.
Taking in a deep breath, he tried to clear his head. He knew that maintaining his focus was of the utmost criticality here. Especially since shifting into full-on ninja stealth mode was not exactly within the realm of possibility given his present physical condition. He couldn't run. He could barely walk. He couldn't exactly fight. All he had about him were his wits, his crutch, and his duffle bag. He certainly wasn't liking his odds. It was time to get out of dodge.
For time's sake, Donnie decided to forgo using his crutch. While it was not ideal to be putting weight on his broken leg, walking without the crutch would allow him more mobility in the event that he had to defend himself. Plus, he could use the crutch as a weapon if need be.
Gritting his teeth through the pain, the injured turtle managed to make his way to the cut across with hardly a sound.
Once inside of the cut across tunnel, his curiosity got the better of him. He slowly poked his head back out into the tunnel he had just left to see if anyone was following him. He shuddered at what he saw and quickly shrunk back inside of the cut across before he could be spotted.
There were Foot-bots tracking him. Four of them to be exact.
Can't I ever catch a break? Is that too much to ask?
Donnie cringed. Perhaps a 'break' was not the best thing to be asking for right about now.
It just had to be Foot-bots . . .
If it would have been regular Foot Soldiers after him, the injured turtle may have had a remote chance of taking them out, but Foot-bots were far more skillful and advanced than Shredder's human followers. The Foot-bots had been specially developed by the Kraang for Shredder. The ninja robots had the capability of adapting to any move they observed within a matter of seconds.
Aw, sewer pickles!
As quickly and silently as his feet would take him, Donatello half-staggered/half-skipped along the narrow passageway. The sooner he got to the overhead pipes section on the other side of the cut across he was in, the more time he would have to formulate some sort of a plan.
Donnie held back a sigh.
There were some days it just wasn't worth getting out of the bed that he rarely slept in.
This was one of those days.
He should've just stayed home . . .
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Not long after embarking on their search and rescue mission that Mikey had aptly dubbed 'Operation: Don Gone,' Leonardo had elected to split the recovery team up. Not just because he had wanted to cover more territory, but also because he had been trying to protect his youngest brother from their shortest-tempered sibling. For some reason, Mikey hadn't been able to stop himself from humming the 'Mission: Impossible' theme song and it had clearly been grating on Raph's nerves. There was no doubt in Leo's mind that his hotheaded brother had been on the brink of beating Mikey into unconsciousness with the first blunt object he could lay his hands on.
And so, for Mikey's own good and Raph's own sanity, Leo had exercised his leadership privileges and sent his red and orange clad brothers in opposite directions. At the present time, Mikey was off wandering the west tunnels while Raph was out scouting around the east ones. Leo had hesitantly sent their only sketch of the security camera locations with Mikey, figuring the youngest turtle was the most likely to get lost and require the map. On the other hand, Mikey was also the most likely to get distracted and fold the map up into a giant paper airplane just for his own amusement . . .
In retrospect, Leo probably should have sent Donnie's remarkably detailed, hand-drawn diagram with Raph. Especially in light of the fact that Raph was the one who knew the least about the intricate security system their brilliant brother had so meticulously organized. That's because the temperamental turtle had never actually bothered to go out and help Donnie with the security system like Leo and Mikey had done on numerous occasions. Whenever his brainiac brother would ask him for assistance with any of his technological stuff, Raph would always make no bones about his lack of interest in what Donnie did. In due time, the genius turtle had just given up on asking.
Now, as Raph meandered through the east tunnels in search of his wounded brother, he felt a twinge of regret burning in his gut. Maybe if he would've paid more attention to Donnie instead of harshly shooting him down or making fun of him every time he asked him for help with something, Raph might have had some idea where the security cameras were located.
Twisting his face into a grimace, the second oldest turtle thought about all the times he had spent loafing on the couch or the beanbag chair watching TV, reading a comic book or some magazine, playing games, or hanging out in his room while he could've been lending his smartest brother a hand. A lot of those times, he had convinced himself that his things were way more important than some boring thing Donnie was doing.
Some boring thing Donnie was doing to help us . . .
For the first time in a long time, Raph tried to wrap his head around what it must have felt like to be his brainy little brother – overworked, overstressed, overtired, and worst of all, underappreciated. While the rest of them were unwinding with their various hobbies or vegging out in front of the television set, Donnie was slaving away on some project, pushing himself well past his limits. Donnie was always working his shell off for his family and he rarely asked any of them for help. And it was no wonder why he didn't ask his brothers for help. Whenever he did, they usually came up with some sort of flimsy excuse to get out of it, such as they had to do their katas (Leo's go-to excuse), they had promised Casey they'd check out some suspicious Foot activity on the docks (Raph's), or they had to wash their shell, and then, take a nap (Mikey's).
Yes, they all had an incredible knack for weaseling out of helping Donnie. Raph was the guiltiest of them all, with Mikey coming in a close second. The youngest turtle wasn't as quick to flat-out say 'no' as his red-masked brother was, but unless the task Donnie was asking for assistance with involved reading a comic book, skateboarding, or playing a video/arcade/pinball/handheld/board/card/role playing game, Mikey's attention span was deficient at best and he was quick to turn into more of a nuisance than a helper. This typically resulted in him botching up important experiments or breaking things, which in turn, made even more work for the genius turtle, because he would have to clean up the mess his baby brother had made. In other words, Donnie would have been better off if Mikey would have just said 'no' in the first place, like Raph.
See? I'm just doing Donnie Boy a favor by saying no all the time . . . Raph winced at his own thoughts, knowing darn well that purposely ignoring his own little brother could never be misconstrued as admirable behavior. Now, all those years of emotional abuse and neglect had finally caused Donnie to shut them out.
They had pushed him away . . .
Even Sensei's pet, Leonardo, was guilty of mistreating their smartest brother. The 'golden turtle' had certain things that consistently took precedence over Donatello's projects. The leader in blue could be just as self-centered as the rest of them – if not more. He could avoid the genius turtle like a pro. He was just more subtle about it. He was always asking Donnie how things were going, but rarely offered his actual assistance. Heaven forbid Leo tear himself away from training or watching 'Space Heroes' for a few minutes to help Donatello work on the inventions/devices that they had all come to rely on. The ones that were constantly saving their shells . . .
No, Leo wasn't nearly as perfect as he thought he was – or at least not as perfect as Raph thought Leo thought he was.
Fearless can be just as big of a jerk as me sometimes . . .
The corners of Raph's mouth coiled upwards into a sneer. For some reason, convincing himself that Leo was equally at fault for traumatizing their younger brother made Raph feel slightly better, but only for a fleeting moment. He then realized that he was being totally selfish. He shouldn't have been obsessing over the fact that his pompous older brother had screwed up. What he should have been obsessing over was the fact that he himself had screwed up. He had hurt Donnie. He had pushed his brainiac brother away, over and over again.
Aw, Donnie, who the heck am I kidding? I should've paid more attention to you, little brother.
Remorse hit Raph, hard.
Disgusted with himself for cruelly overlooking that Donnie had feelings and those feelings were a lot easier to hurt than his own, Raph shook his head from side to side. The need to locate his missing brother was suddenly far more pressing than before. Not just because he was feeling guilty for his actions, but also because his nerves were starting to get the better of him.
The turtle in red may not have been an expert on the security system, but he did know that the further he ventured away from the lair, the more likely he was getting out of security camera range.
What if Leo's assumption that Donnie was just out working on the cameras was wrong?
As much as Raph loved it when his older brother was wrong about something, this was one time he desperately wanted Leo to be right. Because if Leo was wrong, that meant they didn't have any clue where Donnie was.
Flashbacks of their futile search of the junkyard the night that Donnie had been captured began replaying in Raph's head. And just like that awful night, the hotheaded turtle once again found himself thinking someone should have found Donnie by now.
The trembling tingle of panic was starting to set in and Raph consequently quickened his pace to coincide with his accelerating heart rate. He resisted the compelling urge to call out his brainiac brother's name, wanting to retain the element of surprise until he knew just what he was dealing with.
Raph's fierce, green eyes were in the midst of searching the dimly lit, curved passageway of the sewer that stretched out before him when he heard something in the distance. He instinctively ceased his forward momentum and latched onto the hilts of his sais while he continued to listen to the strange noise.
It sounded like some kind of an alarm, or maybe a timer going off, which threw Raph for bit of a loop. It wasn't your typical sewer background noise. It sounded more like a Donnie-thing, which came as a slight relief, but the red-banded turtle didn't let his guard down. Not until he found his missing brother.
Keeping his sais out and ready, Raph cautiously began moving in the direction of the faint, high-pitched noises that were coming in a pattern of three beeps, followed by a moment of silence, and then, the cycle would repeat itself.
Beep – Beep – Beep . . . Beep – Beep – Beep . . .
Just when Raph was starting to get seriously annoyed with the whole beeping thing, there came another sound. This one seemingly shook the ground and temporarily rendered the hotheaded turtle deaf, not to mention it almost gave him a heart attack. Once he recovered from the initial shock, Raph broke into an all-out sprint towards the noise still ringing in his ear slits. It had been far more frightening than the beeping noise he had heard before. It had sounded like an –
Explosion!
DONNIE!
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To be continued . . .
*Author's Notes: I know, I know, another cliffhanger . . . Sorry. Please don't be mad at me.
Just so everyone knows ahead of time, I won't be posting an update for 'Lost in the Fight' next week or possibly the week after. Summer vacation stuff . . .
If you are enjoying this story, or any of my other stories, please take a moment to vote and/or comment. It's always nice to know if people are still reading. Thank you very, very much. ;) CJ
Also, a huge thank you to everyone who checked out my new story, 'TMNT Shell Shots.' I truly appreciate it. *hugs* 😊