A/N: I know I've sort of dropped off the ff radar... sorry for that. I'll be back, someday. In the meantime, here's something.
If you've only ever read the short, humorous bits that I do, this is not one of those. This is not a parody, this is not a light-hearted story. You may want to read What Never Happened first, as this is a companion piece to that. There is also a link to an illustration for this on deviantart that you can find on my profile. There's also reference to the 2k3 episode Same As It Never Was. This fic will make more sense if you've seen it.
Again, this is not a funny story. This is not an amusing little oneshot resulting from overcaffeination. This story doesn't really have a happy ending. Having said that... many of you know me and know that I believe adamantly in happy endings. Someday, when the time is right, I'll add on to this, and give it an ending that the Turtles deserve, because they don't deserve this. So, I'm not even going to call it a oneshot. Consider this my promise... it's all ok in the end. If it's not ok... it's not the end. Not for me. Not in my life, not in my writing. In my world, it always ends ok. Naive? I'd prefer to call it hopeful of a brighter future. No matter how dark things may seem, there is no force on earth that can permanently keep the sun from rising.
Well, the Apocalypse could. But, then you'd have bigger problems than whether or not my Turtle fic ends happily like I promise it will. So I guess we're good. =D
First Blood
All in all, Donny rather regretted that he hadn't listened to Leo.
Funny thing was… he'd had the strangest feeling that maybe he should stay in, even as he was walking out the door. Don't do it, he'd thought to himself. Stay in tonight. But Donatello was nothing if not a rational turtle. "Bad feelings" couldn't compare to facts – hard, visible facts. And the fact was… there was no good reason why he shouldn't have gone out to the junkyard that night.
Sure, it was pouring down rain.
Sure, it was closing in on three in the morning, and even Raph was home and asleep already, so no one would know where he was.
Sure, he'd told Leo he'd just wait until the next day, when they could all go to the junkyard together.
But then, he'd been working on the computer system he was trying to fix, and realized suddenly that there was only one missing part holding him back… and he knew exactly where to find a replacement. It was silly to wait, especially because the others hated going to the dump with him, looking for odd bits of things they didn't understand. Leo would turn it into a training exercise just to keep himself occupied, and it would irritate everyone else. Raph would grumble and bicker the whole time, and it would irritate everyone else. Mikey would probably mess with something he shouldn't and get them all into trouble, and it would irritate everyone else.
No, best to just go by himself.
And so, at exactly 2:56 in the morning, Donatello was running briskly back across the rooftops, enjoying the feeling of the rain on his face. It had taken less than twenty minutes. The missing component for his computer circuit board was tucked safely into his duffel bag, slung over his shoulder. The air was cool and refreshing, and Don's only thought was about how much more he could get done before he'd have to catch a few hours sleep until Leo woke them up for training.
He never for one second expected the Foot ninja to land with a thud directly in front of him, already swinging a fist.
Caught by surprise and completely unawares, Donny couldn't hold back a pained yelp when the Foot soldier clipped him across the chin, knocking him off his feet and onto his shell. The turtle looked up in horror as the ninja advanced on him, his weapon raised high, preparing to deliver the blow that would surely kill Donatello. There was no way to tell with the mask on, but Don was sure the Foot ninja was smiling.
Grunting in exertion, Donny managed to roll to his side just in time to avoid the killing strike. He froze for only a fraction of a second, nearly going cross-eyed as he stared beside him at the blade impaled into the hard rooftop where his head had just been. Looking up at the disappointed Foot ninja, Don leapt to his feet, drawing his bo and backing away. He was confident he could take out the ninja, but he'd prefer not to have to. If he could just get to the side pocket of his duffel, there was an ample supply of smoke pellets… he only needed one. As he reached across his shoulder, though, the enemy ninja wrenched his blade out of the roof and jumped forward through the air with an enraged battle cry.
So much for avoiding a fight, Donny thought grimly to himself, swinging his bo up automatically to deflect the swinging blade. Around and around they danced on the roof. The Foot ninja was always pressing forward, always trying to gain the advantage, while Donny simply held him off with dexterous maneuvers with his bo staff. Maybe the guy would give up and go home… surely he could see that the Turtle was more than a match for him, one on one.
Don smiled. This ninja fought with a style similar to Raph's, but without the actual talent that Raph had. Deflecting him again and again was easy; the Foot ninja kept rushing in without thinking, broadcasting his moves with ridiculously obvious predictability. He was counting on raw strength to defeat the Turtle, but Donny was used to fighting Raph, who was twice as strong as this ninja… Donatello watched him coolly, analyzing every movement and always swinging his bo to the precise location where the Foot ninja was trying to strike. His brain took over instinctively, and all his movements were precise and sure.
Finally, the Foot ninja broke off the attack, taking a few steps back and regarding the Turtle. Don took a few steps back as well, hoping this meant he could get back home and start on this circuit board… and so help him, if that had been damaged in the fight, he would personally sneak into the Foot Tower and take one of theirs instead.
"You cannot defeat me, freak!" the Foot ninja spat out, evidently hoping he could switch tactics and still perhaps win the fight. Donny raised his eye ridges. Couldn't defeat him? Wasn't that what he had been doing? He shook his head.
"Come on, buddy," he said rationally. "Let's just call it a night, ok? You know you guys can't ever beat us in a fair fight, and you're just lucky it was me you ran into instead of one of my brothers. At least I'm willing to let you walk away from this."
"That's because you're weak," the Foot ninja spat out, raising his weapon into attack position again. Donny rolled his eyes, not even remotely stung by the insult. Other enemies had said the same thing, and had always learned their lessons for it, so one more didn't bother him unduly.
"Maybe I won't kill you," the Foot soldier continued, circling Donny in what he probably thought was a very threatening manner. "Perhaps I will you leave you injured and dying, and wait for your pathetic brothers to come to save you… then I will kill them too, and earn the glory and gratitude of my master!"
"Oh, for Pete's sake," Donny couldn't stop himself from exclaiming in exasperation. Was this guy for real? "You can't be serious. You're having a hard enough time fighting me… what exactly is your plan for fighting off all three of the others at once?"
The Foot jumped back into the fight, and Donny sighed as he blocked the attack yet again. At this rate, he wasn't going to have time to do anything with the darn circuit board tonight… not without facing the wrath of Leo for not getting any sleep at all. The Foot continued to try piercing through Donatello's defenses, taunting him the entire time.
"You are nothing!" he hissed. "When you've been defeated, I will bring back an army of ninja to wait for your brothers… if you live long enough, you can watch me kill them, too!"
"Uh-huh," Don sighed. In his mind, he was already toying with the electrical cords and technological parts that he would need to fix the computer system. The lack of focus was dangerous, and Leo would have gotten onto him for it, but this ninja was boring him. Besides, it was raining, so he was cold and wet. Why couldn't this guy give up and let him get back to the warm, dryness of the Lair?
"I'll take the orange one out first," the Foot ninja said with a tone of great anticipation. Donny's mind snapped back into battle, feeling annoyed for the first time. "He is small, and almost as weak as you!"
"Mikey's not weak!" Don snapped in indignation on his brother's behalf, swinging his bo a little harder when he blocked this time. "He's ten times the ninja you are!"
Seeing that he'd pushed a button, the Foot ninja continued with his planning. "Your leader, I will leave for last," he snickered. "That way, he will already be broken by the time I kill him. He can watch as I take them apart one piece at a time… the little one, I will remove an arm. The angry one… hmm… perhaps an eye. They will be screaming for mercy, and I will show them none!"
A cold shiver ran down Donatello's spine. The Foot ninja couldn't know… he couldn't have any idea… surely he didn't know about that horrible reality that Don had been sent to… a flashback shot through his mind, distracting him dangerously as he saw Mikey in his mind's eye. Mikey… one-armed… bitter… angry… destroyed and darkened from the light he used to be. The scene changed to Raph, with an eye-patch… not speaking to his brothers anymore, alone, so alone… and Leo. Oh shell, Leo.
No, oh God… no, he couldn't let this happen. Was this how it all started, that horrible vision of the future that he'd had? Did this ninja manage to kill him on the rooftops of New York, perhaps hiding his body and never revealing to his brothers what had happened? Did he die tonight, starting a chain of events that ended in the destruction of his family and everything he loved? Was this how it became what it never was? Was this how it began?
"No!" Donny shouted, an unfamiliar feeling of fury, mixed with panic, rising within him. No, this was not how it began. He was not going to die there… not there, not now. He was going home, home to see his brothers. He would not allow them to believe he had deserted them, causing a spiral of chaos into evil and madness. A blind rage took over and Don's bo moved of its own accord, striking all over, wending its way past the ninja's flailing defenses, landing surely and dangerously.
Six… ten… thirteen... the Turtle lost count of how many blows he'd landed, and then he took one final swing… swift, exact, and deadly.
The sound brought him back to his senses. When he heard it, his first thought was that perhaps he'd been too slow, and the Foot had killed him after all. It took nearly a minute for it to even occur to him that he was the one who had made the sound…
See, the sound of two solid objects forcefully colliding is never a pleasant one, but somehow this was worse than anything Don had ever heard before. It was the combination of a hard, dull thud of wood, a thick smack of flesh, and a splintering shatter of what had previously been bone. It was a sound that drove itself deep into Donatello's mind, driving out all other thoughts and feelings, invading his memory and settling there, never to be forgotten.
Accompanying the sound of a human breaking was the sound of a human realizing he was broken. As the Foot ninja collapsed in on himself, he let out a gasp, filled simultaneously with shock, agony, and unadulterated terror. This was followed by a higher sound, a keening that was filled with the same three elements; the turtle soon realized that this new noise was coming from him.
"I'm sorry," Donny whispered shakily, his eyes wide as he looked down on the man sprawled out on the rooftop. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" He could fix this. Kneeling down, the turtle swiftly tugged the ninja's mask up and off his head, thinking perhaps as long as he could keep the man's airway clear, he'd make it through. He could still make it. Donny couldn't have hit him that hard. There was a chance. Don could save him. He could.
Taking off the mask was a mistake. No... he was so young… just a rash, foolish young man that was now dying. He was only a young man, probably no older than the Turtle himself. Don's breath hitched painfully when his eyes caught the ninja's, staring at him in fear and poisonous accusation.
"No!" the turtle sobbed. "No, please! I'm sorry!"
Tearing his eyes away, Don's gaze traveled across the Foot ninja's limp body, certain that there had to be something he could fix. He could, he could fix this. There were so many areas leaking blood… so many misshapen limbs that couldn't have been natural… Finding the place where the most blood was seeping through the ninja's outfit, Donny quickly placed both hands over the wound, trying to hold back the flow.
He could fix this.
At his touch, the Foot ninja hissed painfully, his breaths coming slower and shallower, choking on blood that spilled from his mouth and clogged his airways.
"I'm sorry," Don repeated over and over, pressing on the wound. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"
As he pressed down, he was so intent on stopping the blood, it was well over two minutes before the turtle realized that his enemy wasn't breathing at all anymore.
The rain beat down on Donatello, mingling with the blood on his hands. The turtle crouched on the rooftop, in utter shock. He'd just killed a man. Dear Lord, he'd killed someone.
It was an accident... just an accident... he hadn't meant to hit him so hard... even if the Foot ninja was trying to kill HIM, he'd never meant to do any real lasting damage... not like this.
Donny had tried to fix his enemy... but humans couldn't be put back together like the toaster that he'd disassembled when he was four. People didn't fit back together again once they'd been broken.
He hadn't meant it.
He hadn't meant it.
He hadn't meant it.
He was a murderer.
oOo oOo oOo
It was nearly six months later before he thought about it again…
Six months since Donny had spent a full three hours trying to clean the blood off his hands.
Six months since his focus and abilities in the dojo had dropped alarmingly as he began to pull back more and more.
Six months that he kept that trip to the dump to himself… Splinter watched him carefully for a while, but Donatello never broke… never said a word… never admitted to the terrible, debilitating pain in his heart.
Six months that he refused to admit to Leo or anyone that he was afraid to use his weapon, because who knew who might get hurt?
Now, it was another's turn.
Hamato Raphael was not in a good mood. Donny could tell by the way his brother entered the Lair early that morning, a little past three: almost exactly the same time Don had come back in, six months ago.
There was blood on Raphael's hands that did not belong to him.
It took only a few short seconds for Donatello to know exactly what had happened, because the haunted face that Raphael was wearing was the same one he'd seen in the mirror six months before.
"You know you're not the only one who goes out alone, right?" Don asked coolly, his voice low. "You're not the only one who's ever been on the way home and taken by surprise. What makes you so sure you're the only one this has ever happened to? I mean, we are all ninja. Accidents happen."
"I told you, that ain't…" Raph trailed off, staring at Donatello as if for the first time. "What're you sayin', bro?"
Don shrugged. "Nothing. But maybe you should consider yourself lucky." He turned as if to go, and was rewarded with Raph's hand falling heavily on his shoulder.
"Wait, what's that s'posed to mean? What're you talkin' about?"
"It's a lot quicker and easier to kill someone with a blade, Raph," Donny said without turning. "Imagine the bloody mess you'd leave behind if you killed someone with a big stick."
And then he left, feeling a little shaken. It was the closest he'd come to admitting what he had done, the secret that no one was supposed to know. He didn't know why he'd said that to Raph, but of course he'd denied it immediately as soon as Raph pursued the matter.
"No. No, it never happened." Part of him felt bad for lying to his brother, but the lie had come out so easily. Besides, between a little white lie and a big bloody murder… how bad could one tiny untruth be?
Besides, he hadn't meant it... it was an accident… he'd tried to fit the Foot ninja back together again, like a jigsaw puzzle of human flesh, but the pieces refused to go…
Donny hummed as he went back to the tech he was working on. The more he thought about it, the less he remembered anything. No… no, it never happened. The lie had come so easily… was it a lie at all? Donny pondered the situation as he fiddled with a few wires. What had he been doing that night? It was all so fuzzy. So fuzzy... Like only the memory of a memory, a memory that wasn't a memory at all. Had he taken his duffel? Where had he been going, that his brothers hadn't been with him?
The brain was a curious and dangerous place. Who knew what sort of things could be created and exist in no real form outside the confines of the coiled mass? Maybe that whole night had been nothing but a bad dream. There was no proof it had ever happened, nothing but what might be the memories (the sound of wood and flesh and bone) in his own head, and those could be a lie just as easily as the one he'd told to Raph.
Now that he thought about it… which one had been the lie? That it had never happened?
…Or that it had?
It was perfectly silly, of course. Surely he wouldn't have wandered off by himself… so how could he have ever had a fight with a lone Foot ninja? And come to think of it, when did Foot ninja ever work alone? They attacked in gangs. The entire scenario was utterly impossible, and if it wasn't possible than it wasn't true. Don grinned blankly, jamming a screwdriver into the works of the machinery he was fixing. What a relief. It had just been a figment of his imagination, after all. Imagine, him killing someone… what a silly notion. He hadn't lied to Raph after all... it hadn't happened. It never had.
Don continued humming, feeling better… lighter… somehow oddly emptier. And that other thing that had been bothering him, why, that was nothing either. He was a scientist, and worked with chemicals frequently. It was nothing at all to worry about. Surely he'd simply spilled something, which had permanently stained his hands as red as blood.
Even if he was the only one who could see it there.