Something was wrong. Something was wrong with Donnie. Three of the Hamato's knew this to be true. Leo, Raph, and Mikey had all noticed a subtle change in the geniuses typical behavior. Before, they barely saw Donnie in the mornings and even when they did, he always had a cup of coffee in hand. Now...now Donnie was practically skipping around the Lair, ready to face the early morning training session, without so much as a grumble about not having his cup of Joe.
The eldest of the Hamato clan, Splinter-sensei, was the first to mistake this behavior as a good sign...
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All around the lab bench,
The Purple chased the turtles;
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"Donatello! What is the meaning of this?!"
The poor rat, Splinter, was cornered and he knew it. He hated knowing he had made the mistake of assuming his smart, young son was truly okay. Donatello never had the cold look of insanity in his eyes.
Like he did now.
"Nothing, Master Splinter! That's just it!" the purple banded turtle giggled, "This has no meaning! Nothing does! No one does! Everything it meaningless!"
Splinter tried to make himself smaller against the wall, "My son, Donatello, you cannot mean that. Everything has meaning. Everyone has a purpose. What you are saying makes no sense."
"Sure, Sensei. Whatever you say…"
BAM.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Splinter was now strapped to Don's lab table, blinking his eyes rapidly and trying to dispel the ache in his head. What had happened? And where was his robe?
"Oh, goody! You're awake!" he heard Donatello's voice exclaim, "I've been waiting!"
"D-Donatello! Stop this nonsense right now!" Splinter growled in warning, "This is your final warning!"
Donatello laughed, the sound like tinkling glass, "Don't worry, Sensei. You won't have to worry about warning me much longer…"
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So…fifteen pounds…it takes fifteen pounds per square inch of pressure to crush the skull, so that would be about…1.05 kilogram-force per square centimeter…then…69 millibars… Interesting…
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Splinter was missing. Donnie was still acting strange. And the three other Hamato brothers weren't to sure of their safety. Donnie had gotten better at sparring and while he was never one to be underestimated, he took Leo down in less than five minutes. Which was a miracle when Raph attempted.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
The Purple thought 'twas all in fun,
Pop! goes the turtles!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Donnie?" Leo asked as his purple banded brother cornered him in his lab, "What's going on? Why do you have Splinter's robe? And his walking stick? Do you know where Sensei is?"
Donnie released a bored yawn, "Sensei's not here anymore."
"Then where is he? Don, you have to tell me! I'm really worried!" Leo pleaded, truly frightened by his little brother's behavior.
"Did you know, Leonardo," Donnie went on, ignoring Leo's pleas, "that it takes about 69 millibars to crush a skull? That's about one and five hundredths of kilogram force per centimeter , or fifteen pounds per square inch. Cool, huh?"
Leo, for once in his life, could admit that he was screwed.
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A penny for a spool of thread,
A penny for a needle—
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"DONNIE!"
Donnie slammed his hand on the table, near what used to be Leo's arm, "Hush, now Leonardo! I wanna see if I can put your leg up here…"
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
That's the way the money goes,
Pop! goes the turtles!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Mikey's got the whooping cough,
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"D-Don? W-why can't…I breathe…?" the sweet, blue eyed turtle coughed, "W-where's…Leo at…a-anyways? He can't b-be…g-gone…we still h-have to find…S-Splinter…"
"Leomardo's gone. Oh! But you should have seen him, Michelangelo!" Donnie squealed, jumping up and down with one of Mikey's pillows in his arms.
Mikey blinked at his normally quiet, eye-rolling brother. Who the shell was this and where the shell did they put the real Donnie?
"Oh! Oh! Oh! Michelangelo! Guess what?!" Donnie said even more excited.
"W-what, Don?"
"Did you know that the knee joint and shoulder joints on a turtle can be manipulated to work the same?! It was really interesting! At first, well, at first I wasn't sure it would work, but then I remember how our mutagenic genes heal our bodies quickly, so I decided to go ahead and try and—"
"D-Donnie?" Mikey whispered haggardly as Donnie loomed over him with the pillow gripped tight in both olive green hands, "Wh-what…have you…d-done…?!"
Donnie grinned as he shoved the pillow over Mikey's face and held it down hard, "quit your struggling, Michelangelo! I was only playing a game! You know how I am. It was all for science!"
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
And Raphie's got the measles;
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
"I know what ya' did, Donnie-boy." Raph breathed roughly, his bloodshot amber eyes boreing into the brown, "I don't know exactly how ya' did it to'em, but I know ya' did somethin'."
Donnie stared coldly at his red banded brother, "And how did you come to this hypothesis, Raphael?"
"Ya've been callin' me 'Raphael' for a few days now. Since Splinter disappeared in fact. Do you remember when you started to mutate again 'cause of Bishop meddlin'?" Raph asked softly, rubbing at his burning eyes.
"Kind of hard not to, when it was me that mutated. Where the hell are you doing with this?"
Raph smiled darkly, "I got you alone, remember? Mikey and Leo never knew. I didn't tell them I snuck out ta' find ya'. Do you know what you said?
"Hmm…no, actually. I don't recall. Do you?" Donnie asked smoothly, his dark brown, almost black, eyes locking with those of his only brother left.
"Ya'know, I really can't remember it all. Everything feels kinda funny right now, my mind 'specailly. But I do know one thing…ya' always called me by my name…my full name…always 'Raphael'…when ya' got back to normal, it was 'Raph' 'cause ya' were all calm 'n stuff…only when ya' were mad did ya' ever call me 'Raphael'…"
Raph propped himself up from the lad table, "There's Splinta's robe and stick over there with Leo and Mike's gear. And ya' never curse. No matter what…Never…plus there's a scalpel in ya' hand…"
Donnie suddenly slammed a hand down on Raph plastron, shoving him back down on the table, and held the scalpel to the emerald turtles throat, "And just what the fuck does that prove? Huh?"
"And when ya' mad, my Donnie-boy…that means something bad happened. It means that somethings wrong." Raph wheezed, a knowing smile on his paled and sweat soaked face.
One slash and Donnie was finished with his work, though thoroughly shaken. How…? How had he done it? How did Raphael ever figure it out? Donnie had figured after he got through with Leonardo and Splinter, he would be home free, but even Michelangelo had thought something was up…strange…
Oh, well…
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
That's the way the story goes,
Pop! goes the turtles!
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Now I just have Casey and April left to play with...damn... But that's okay, I guess. All in the name of science.