A/N: Oh goodness it's been a long time since I've posted anything here! I hope to start coming around a little more often in the near future, both as a reader reviewer and as a writer! This story is from a challenge on another site.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or any names or properties associated with them. This is entirely for entertainment and no harm is intended. No money is made from this. Please do not sue.
Revenge is Bliss
"This is not how it was supposed to be." Don whispered, his tone a mix of despair and anger. A single tear slipped down his face.
He was now alone in the farm house.
For the past four months the family had lived in North Hampton at Casey's grandma's old farmhouse. Casey and April had visited on occasion, working out ways to get out of their busy New York lives to spend a little more time with Master Splinter.
The past couple of weeks had been particularly rough on the family. Combining with their grief, the four turtles had always been city boys. They really knew no other way and some part of them always craved the sights and sounds of their home. Donatello had remained behind, he was the most familiar with Splinter's medicine schedule and if necessary could create more of the essential substances. He had also found that he liked the country and the quiet life it provided more than his brothers did. To say that he did not miss the city and would not want to go back would be a lie, but he found that he could be happy here too. At least he could if the circumstances had been different.
It was only a weekend trip. They would be gone for two nights, driving Friday and arriving in the city by that evening in time for a nighttime training run. Saturday they planned to check out the lair and make sure everything was still in order and ready for their eventual return. Saturday evening, another run and Sunday they would return to North Hampton, ready to continue caring for Splinter.
What had just happened... This had not been part of the plan.
A single tear slipped for the corner of Donatello's eye. It was Saturday evening. His brothers would be out enjoying a run right now. He hated them for his loneliness right now and felt horrible that they had not been here and would not find out until later.
Friday evening Master Splinter's health had taken a sharp turn for the worst. Don had been inclined to call his brothers and get them back to the farm as soon as possible, but Master Splinter had wished for them to get their break. They deserved it.
"I only wish that you had gotten one too"
Donatello cried bitterly. All four of them were supposed to be here at Master Splinter's side when the moment came. The old warrior would not go down in battle, but at least he could go down with his family at his side. No, instead it had been Donatello, alone.
A phone rang, startling Don. He had half expected Splinter to look to the phone and bid the turtle to answer it, but there was nothing, and there never wold be again. The ringing was relentless and continued, cutting into Don's thoughts like a razor. It hurt, he had to make it stop...
"Hello?" Donatello said as he picked up the receiver.
"Donnie, help! The Foot, they have these new tech guys-"
It was Mikey, the shout was followed by a scream and a gurgling sound, Don dropped the handset to the floor.
"This isn't happening..." Don told himself silently. "It's not real!" It couldn't be.
The sharp crack of plastic on wood seemed louder than any explosion. As though mocking Donatello and his situation, the fall had triggered the speaker phone. Mikey had apparently had his on too when– Don cut that train of thought right there.
"MIKEY! NO!" The voice was Raph's. Leo's voice repeated the words a moment later, but it was gruffer, like he was in the middle of something and could not risk a glance to the nunchaku wielding turtle. There was nothing Donatello could do, but listen and hope.
Telltale sounds of a fight raged around the phone that must have fallen to the ground. Don's trained ear could pick out the sounds of his brothers' weapons. Raph's sai snapping a sword, blocking a bo, stopping a small army of Foot. Leo's swords clanging against other weapons: swords, sai, naginata a manriki gusari wrapped the weapons briefly before Leo managed to break free of its hold. A pause that could be deadly. Noticeably absent were the sounds of Mikey's chucks, whizzing through the air and landing against weapons and skulls. A grunt from Leo drew Don's attention away from what was missing to what was there.
The manriki had bought the time needed. There was an erk from Leo, a shout from Raph, more gurgling. Then an angry scream was abruptly silenced.
Don's breath caught as he realized that the harsh gurgling he had heard from the phone since Mikey had fallen had also faded. His brothers were gone and all he had been able to do was listen to their deaths, a silent, impotent witness as his world turned on its head.
"No..." Don whispered. "It can't be... this can't be real..."
The fight was over. That couldn't be how it ended.
Don looked to his father's cooling body and felt something break inside him as he knew that his brothers were gone as well. The phone on the other end of the line moved and Don looked at the handset on the floor in front of him.
"I think Turtle Pond in Central Park is an appropriate place to dispose of these."
The all too familiar voice sent a bone chilling shudder down Don's spine and he felt his blood turn to ice. A moment later, the call cut.
With all the care and love a grieving son, Donatello wrapped his father's body in the blankets. Carefully lifting Master Splinter's remains, he carried them outside and laid him out on what had once been a picnic table. Around the table, Don carefully prepared a funeral pyre, with the table at it's core.
Donatello worked into the morning, perfecting the pyre, he then bowed to it before turning to the Battle Shell. He moved to the vehicle, feeling numbed in a way he had never believed possible. His family was gone. Stepping up into the rear of the vehicle, Don hit a button and hidden panel slid aside. In the hidden space, were their spare weapons.
With a hesitant hand, Don reached out and touched each weapon in turn, his primary bo already on his back he was more interested in the three pairs. With a gentle hand, Don picked up the pair of nunchaku first, tucking them into the front of his belt. Next were the two sai. Those were tucked behind him, up against his carapace, around his bo. Slowly, oh, so slowly, two swords made their way into sheathes and unfamiliar leather crossed his chest as Leonardo's swords joined the arsenal Donatello carried.
Removing his mask, Don turned to the remaining items in the space. Next to the spare weapons had been spare masks. Each color was carefully tied to Don's upper arms. Leonardo's blue stood sentinel over Mikey's brilliant orange. Raphael's powerful red lent an intensity to Don's purple that it lacked on it's own.
Don had no idea how long he had stood there, but it must have been a while because when he finally stepped out of the truck the sky was darkening. One thing was still missing and the turtle returned to the house.
Inside were four black masks. The family had known that the loss of their father and sensei was inevitable, though they had thought they had more time. Donatello replaced the purple mask he had removed from his eyes with a black one that covered his whole head before he went back outside and returned to Master Splinter's funeral pyre and lit a small bit of dried moss at the base.
Donatello stood alone as the fire grew to a roaring inferno. Hours later, the final cinder was doused with sand and Donatello climbed into the driver's seat of the Battle Shell, leaving the farmhouse for the final time.
Months had passed since that fateful day in North Hampton, and April O'Neal had dropped by the lair one more time.
"April, I told you to leave. Go, forget about us." Donatello ordered, his voice deeper and gruffer than it had ever been while his had family lived.
"I can't do that, and you know it!"
"I said get out." The dark tones warned.
"Donnie, this isn't healthy! Come live with me and Casey! We'll all go to North Hampton, run a business out of the farmhouse! You can't stay here alone! You're on a path to self destruct! Can't you see that?" She cried.
"My life is my business, April." Donatello told her as he tied on the black mask that completed the ensemble he had worn at Splinter's funeral. There was one change, the long tails of what had once been his brothers' masks had been cut short, as their lives had been. While a fitting metaphor, the long tails had also hindered Donatello's movement. "And I will live it as I see fit. Now go. I don't want you caught up in this."
"Donnie!" The human stared as the hard eyes that seemed to radiate ice returned to the warm, coffee brown she had once known.
"I have to do this, April." Don said in a voice she had nearly forgotten. It was softer, gentler than anything she had heard from the turtle since...
The turtle stepped forward and put a hand on April's cheek. "This is how it has to be. Don't follow me. Don't let Casey follow me. They'd come after you too. And I can't risk that. My brothers and Master Splinter would not permit it either."
"Donnie..." April whispered.
"I love you, April." Donatello's voice then changed again. "We love you." It was not the chilled voice she had heard recently. When she looked back on this moment later, she would be able to make herself believe she had heard all five mutants in the tone. He kissed her cheek, quickly, gently. April stared a moment, she shook her head and by the time she had cleared her thoughts, Donatello was gone.
"No, Donnie..." She whispered to the dead lair. With Don's departure and the careful planning that had brought him to this point, the space looked as it had when the family had found it so long ago. Burying her face in her hands, she knew her own sobs were the only thing left here for her.
Slowly, methodically, Donatello made his way up. He took care not to expose himself to either the ninja or the technology guarding the tower. Skilled in both areas, he had managed to get this far. A few people who had crossed his path had been disposed of with a swiftness and purpose that would have shocked those who had known Donatello in life.
He, like his family, was dead. Everything that Donatello had been had gone to the grave with his father and brothers. That his body still walked this Earth had, at first, seemed a cruel joke. Now, he knew that there had been unfinished business. Donatello was a ghost of the flesh, left behind to regain the honor of his family and his clan. A final task he could not fail.
Two of the new Foot Techs that Mikey had mentioned in that call from another life met the business end of a red-handled sai. Donatello activated their 'stealth-modes' and pulled them into a closet. For the next few hours, the only way their bodies might be found would be if someone were to trip over them. Though the smell that would follow would likely alert another to their presence. Moments later, orange nunchaku followed by a purple bo staff had taken out a patrol of seven.
Upward, onward, Donatello climbed. The short ends of the bands tied around his arms that had once danced silently in life stood stock still in death. Rigor mortis seemed their permanent state as the ice coursing through Donatello's veins froze them in place. They could not relax until the turtle did.
The black mask surrounding Don's head had become an omen of death among the Foot over the past few months. And yet, they had no idea what they were in for tonight.
Pulling himself from the elevator shaft for the 8th time, Donatello stepped out into a luxurious office. Before him sat a woman, her jet black hair cascaded down onto her shoulders.
"You made your father's mistake, Karai." Donatello stated, his voice as hard as granite and as cold as liquid nitrogen. He smiled at the shock Karai tried in vain to cover as she whipped around in her desk chair to face him. "You failed to finish the job."
When Karai spoke, her words betrayed none of the shock or fear she had shown in that brief flicker a moment ago.
"And I assume you have come to teach me that lesson?"
Donatello waited for her to stand. He bowed, then he moved. Blue handled swords flew from their sheaths and danced expertly in dead hands that had shown no such promise in life. Though all of the turtles had been competent with any of their brothers' weapons and several others, this level of skill had been reserved for the one who had claimed the weapon as his own. The family's relationship with Karai had begun with Leonardo and with these swords, with Leonardo, it would end. Donatello had promised him that long ago.
Time seemed to slow as the pair circled. The world around them faded into nothingness around them. One moment, this moment, this fight was all that existed. Both fighters found a level of focus they had always strove for, but had never before reached.
A defensive fighter in life, Donatello hung back, letting Karai make the first move. She willingly obliged, dashing in with her own swords out and slicing for Donatello's exposed throat. The turtle blocked with the left blade and brought the right around in an arcing motion more appropriate to the bo staff than to a sword, but perhaps it was that which threw the woman off. Karai got a sword up to block, but not quickly enough to avoid taking a glancing hit to the left arm. Blood poured from the injury as the fight continued. Donatello had scored the first hit and earned a considerable advantage in the battle to come.
The next hit went to Karai, a deep gash to the inside of Donatello's right leg. Quickly assessing the damage, Donatello knew that he had only minutes to finish this fight. A red sai was thrown toward his opponent, forcing her back before the swords reasserted themselves in their new master's hands. With the sai had come a flash of a patented determination the olive-skinned turtle had never quite managed in life. From here on out, he fought not only Karai, but the clock that ticked with each beat of his heart. If he left now, he could possibly still take April up on her offer earlier in the evening, but his task was not yet complete. He leapt to his feet in spite of the injury he had just taken.
Karai had been surprised for a second time this evening when the turtle sprang to his feet. Not only the initial move, but the sheer brutality of the attack that followed had left her, quite literally, speechless.
Donatello stood poised over the woman. The foot of his injured leg pressed into her chest, crimson burned her uniform, branding her. A single blue handled sword filled both of his hands as its partner waited on the turtle's back for its turn.
Pinned to the floor with a sword to her throat, Karai could only watch the paling turtle as he began to laugh. The sound was almost maniacal to her ears.
"You know something, Karai?" Donatello asked between chortles.
She waited, silently, accepting her fate and whatever last word of advice the turtle held for her. This was all somehow fitting. The end of his family had been the end of hers.
"Revenge really is bliss."
The sword lunged downward, making a single clean slice, silencing Karai before she could make any sort of reply.
Stepping off of Karai and stumbling toward the desk, Donatello lifted the top from what looked like a cigar box. The large red button inside was just what the doctor had ordered. A countdown began in the office.
"Three minutes to self destruct."
Donatello fell to the floor laughing softly, tears came to his eyes as he whispered the names of his brothers and father. Laughing with his victory and the return of his family and their honor while crying for all that he had lost along the way, Donatello's body rejoined his spirit. His business in this world finally complete.
"Five... Four... Three... Two... One..."
