"You've got about ten seconds until all hell breaks loose, Brainiac!" Raphael hollered. He was fighting with all of his might to hold a legion of enemy soldiers at bay, while Donatello attended to more delicate matters.
"I'm going as fast as I can! You can't rush these things!" Donatello shouted, his eyes never leaving the tangle of wires that he was in the middle of reworking.
Raphael's breath was coming faster now. It felt like he was single-handedly restraining a herd of stampeding wildebeest, all of them heading towards the repurposed water tower that Donatello was stationed at. "Can't hold them back alone. Five seconds!" Raphael warned.
"Almost got it!" Donatello ignored the knife that implanted itself next to his hand as he cut the final wires. He was rewarded with a loud hiss that indicated that the mutagen bomb had been diffused. The liquid inside turned black, now a harmless, inert muck. "There! And with a few seconds to spare!" Don celebrated.
He grabbed his bo and spun around, ready to assist Raphael with clearing a path through the attacking horde so that they could regroup with Leonardo and Michelangelo. But, where was Raphael?! He had been there only seconds ago, covering Don's back. "Raph!" Donnie hollered, striking out with his staff as the first of the attackers reached him. "Raph!"
Donatello battled his way towards where Raphael had been standing. He could see something vaguely turtle-shaped on the ground about ten feet away, not moving. "No! Raphael!"
Donatello may not have been the most skilled ninja of his family, but say what you will about the bo-staff, it is capable of taking out a lot of people at once. And, Don could've written a book about the effective use of a bo staff. It was rare that Donatello's mind aimed 100% of its staggering power on any single task at a time, but when he saw Raph's body helplessly laying there, being swarmed by the enemy, every neuron in his brain focused on winning the fight to get to him.
Donatello became some sort of machine. Even he could not recall what moves he made. But, within a matter of minutes, two dozen men were laying in a pile around him, clutching broken limbs. At the center of that pile was Raphael. The mob continued to swirl around him, but Donatello saw his chance. He struck one of the rushing soldiers square in the gut, batting him back into two other men. The opening was only a second long, but it was just enough of a window for Donatello to grab Raphael.
He had no time to check his brother for injuries. He slung Raph across his soldiers. In the same motion, he tucked his staff away behind his back. He turned 180 degrees and began to run just as fast as he could, projectiles whizzing past his face and bouncing off of his shell.
The turtles' emergency meet-up spot was on a rooftop a few blocks over. The problem was, Leonardo and Michelangelo were fighting their own battle on the ground. Donatello had to make a split second decision - fight back through the small army of enemy combatants to reach the ground and his brothers, or head to the rally point. He decided upon the second option, only because he would've had to put Raphael down if he wanted to fight his way to the ground.
The protocol was to call Leonardo, but Don's hands weren't free. They weren't going to be anytime soon, given that they were both occupied holding Raphael. Fortunately, Donatello had equipped the phones with voice activation technology. "Call Leo!" Donatello hollered. Right after he did so, he leaped over the edge of the building.
Donatello had never attempted to jump across a rooftop while holding a brother before. He was confident that he had put enough power into his leap to make it to the next roof, but it wasn't until he was in midair that he realized how much the landing was likely to hurt. 'Oh well,' Don thought, as the phone rang for the first time. He shifted Raphael a little on his shoulders, ensuring that he wouldn't drop him.
Don landed low, bent forward at the waist with his feet stretched out in front of him. He hoped that this position would lessen the impact to his knees and ankles. His bare heels scraped across the rooftop gravel, but he managed to ignore the stinging sensation. He arched his shoulders, using Raphael's momentum to push himself forward instead of straight down onto his rump. It worked, and he was able to recover from the jump without missing a step. When the phone rang the second time, Donatello was halfway across the roof.
He hazarded a glance behind him. If Don had to guess, he'd say about 50 men were standing on the roof that he'd just leaped from. It was hard to say how many would pursue him. About five already had, and more were lining up to make the jump. At least one must have already tried and failed, given the number of them that were looking down to the alley below in horror. "Raph!" Donatello yelled, bucking his shoulders a little in the hopes of rousing his brother. "Raph!"
The phone rang a third time, but Donnie didn't notice, focusing instead on the next leap. He landed it with no difficulty, but it was pretty obvious that he was about to have an issue. The next building over was substantially taller, so he couldn't aim for the roof. To his right, there was a very wide roadway. The distance to the buildings on the other side was too far. He looked quickly to his left. It was worth a shot. Don angled in that direction. About two dozen men were giving chase. Donatello made his final leap. It was still a dead end. Fate had smiled on him though.
Donatello kicked open the door to a rooftop maintenance shed. Rooftop gardens were all the rage in New York City these days, thank goodness. The phone rang a final time. "This is Leonardo. Leave a message."
"Leo! It's Don. It's okay. We're okay. But, Raph and I are pinned down on the rooftop of the Sondheim Building. Once I finish taking care of business, we're heading for the rally point. End call!"
Donatello gently settled Raphael down onto the floor. Raph groaned and moved a little, which was a good sign. Donnie didn't have time to celebrate, though. His pursuers had seen him go into the shed. He had known that they would. It was not so much a hiding place, as a spot where he could better defend Raphael.
Even if Raph emerged from his stupor, Don knew that he wouldn't be able to defend himself. Given the massive welt on his left temple, combined with his unconscious state, Donatello strongly suspected that Raphael had suffered a concussion. It was also pretty clear that he'd broken his right arm.
"Everything's going to be okay," Don promised. He pet Raphael on the shoulder, then marched resolutely to the door. He cracked one enemy across the ribs with his bo and threw a punch at another. He dodged the swipe of a sword, then dropped low, using his bo to sweep a third villain's feet out from under him.
"D-Donnie?" Raphael called from the shed. He didn't remember how he had arrived at this place. His only comfort was that he knew at least one of his brothers was watching over him. He could barely see Donatello. His vision was so hazy, and Don was moving so fast. Occasionally, Don would dart past the doorway, or an olive-green arm or leg would enter his field of vision. Raphael began clawing his way towards the door. He hissed as his arm hit the ground. When had he broken his arm?
There was a flurry of activity outside of the shed. Raphael saw, clear as day, Donatello's upside-down head pass across the top of the open doorway, apparently in the midst of a backflip. Don's neck swiveled to glare at Raphael. "Stay down!" Don scolded, before disappearing from sight again.
Never one to head the directions of others, Raphael kept crawling. He was Don's bodyguard, not the other way around! Raph reached the doorway, but what he saw on the rooftop didn't make any sense.
Donatello was fighting five men at once, busting moves that not even Leonardo or Master Splinter himself were capable of. Raphael watched as Donatello grabbed an oncoming enemy by the wrist. He twisted a knife out of the man's arm, then kicked it at another as though it was a soccer ball. It buried itself up to the handle in the man's thigh. Don then spun and swung the soldier he had by the arm into a third enemy combatant.
As the two men went down, Donatello, still spinning, tumbled into a backward somersault. He bent a shoulder and swung his hips around, causing his body to spin at a high velocity on the cusp of his shell. His hands were moving as fast as lightning, sending shuriken flying in every direction. Two enemies managed to advance through the onslaught. When they were close enough, Donatello kicked his legs out, each foot catching one of the combatants beneath their jaws.
The two men collapsed, but Donatello wasn't done yet. He executed the craziest move that Raphael had ever seen. The force of kicking the two men had slowed Don's upside-down spinning just enough that Raphael could make out his features a little better. Donnie squinted and threw two final shurikens, ensuring that any nearby fighters stood clear. The second the shurikens had left his fingertips, he gave a quick jerk of his neck. His arms and shoulders weren't involved at all, and yet somehow, someway, Don's body popped several feet into the air. He flipped over and landed on his feet.
Raphael blinked several times in sheer disbelief. How had Donatello done that? It shouldn't be possible to use only one's neck muscles to spring up that far, nevermind while spinning and throwing things! What would one even call that move? Raphael would later settle on neck-spring, but at the moment, he could only continue to watch as beast-mode Donatello systematically demolished these people.
Raphael was nice enough that he never said it out loud, but Donatello was the brother that he considered to be the easiest to defeat in battle. However, this version of Donnie was one that he wouldn't ever want to face - not in a million years. Raphael almost felt sorry for the enemy.
Having landed easily on his feet, Donatello immediately bounced into a spin kick. He knocked the wind out of a soldier that had been approaching him, then pole-vaulted over his collapsed form. He cracked the jaw of his next wannabe opponent with his bo staff.
Several more enemy soldiers reached the rooftop. Donatello backflipped over to them. On the final flip, Don balled his fists and smashed them down. Raphael swore that he felt the roof he was laying on shake. Don lifted off of the rooftop like a rocket, still upside down. He decided on a target and twisted his body accordingly. He landed on the shoulders of his selected enemy, causing the man to stumble backwards. Don landed on his shell with the man on top of him, but he had somehow managed to get his feet behind the enemy's back. Don kicked the man ten feet into the air, bounced up onto his own feet and then caught the man again. He threw him across the roof as though he were some sort of toy that Donatello was done playing with. The defeated soldier/projectile took out a crowd of people that had been intending to jump the roof.
Without even taking a breath, Don grabbed his bo staff from its holster. He vaulted over to the next hot-spot in an instant. Once there, he grabbed a fallen soldier by the ankle, swung him around, and flung him 35 feet away, onto the fire escape of a neighboring building. He then tossed a knife that he had found somewhere, pinning the man to the brick wall by a shirt sleeve.
Raph crawled further out of the shed, sensing that the battle was over now. He saw groaning bodies piled up all around him. There was no one left to threaten him. Don had taken them all out. A pair of green feet appeared in Raph's line of sight, one toe tapping impatiently. "I told you not to move," Don scolded. "Now let's take a look at your injuries."
Donatello knelt down next to his brother, breathing heavily, but otherwise unflustered. There wasn't a scratch on him.
"How'd you do that?" Raphael wondered.
"Do what?" Donatello asked, shining his phone's flashlight into Raphael's eyes.
"Take all those guys out so fast? That spinning neck-spring thing?" Raphael replied.
"Neck-spring? What's that?" Donnie wondered.
"I don't know. I didn't even think it was possible," Raphael said. "But you did it."
"Did what?" Donatello asked, distracted as he focused on studying Raphael's pupils.
"You did some sort of backward somersault, but you were spinning too. Then, you used your neck to spring up and land on your feet," Raphael reiterated.
"I did not," Don answered simply. He put the phone away and began feeling around Raphael's head and neck. "That's physically impossible."
"I would've agreed five minutes ago," Raphael replied.
"I probably used my hands to spring up, not my neck, and the spinning was probably just your vision swimming due to being knocked out," Don theorized.
"Your hands were busy tossing throwing stars a mile a minute," Raphael explained. "And if my vision was so messed up, it would've looked like the whole roof was spinning. Not just you."
"You're concussed, Raphael," Donnie diagnosed.
"You honestly mean to tell me that you don't remember doing that?" Raphael asked, rubbing his sore head. From the way he was feeling, he had no doubt that he really was concussed.
"I assure you, it never happened," Donatello insisted. "That sounds like a good way to break your neck."
"What do you think you did, then?" Raphael asked.
"I don't know. My normal fighting," Don answered quietly. He gently took Raphael's arm and ran his fingers up and down it. "I don't exactly remember every move, I was pretty distracted by my worry for you. I just wanted to finish the battle as quickly as possible, so that I could get back here before you did something reckless, like try to help me out."
Raphael smiled despite the pain in his head and arm. Donatello smiled too. It was funny to see Donnie go from one extreme to the other - from the ultimate soldier to the doting family medic.
There was a groan from one of the fallen soldiers, and both turtles looked in the direction that the noise had come from with concern.
"You got any throwing stars left?" Raphael asked.
Don checked. "Nope. Fresh out. Now let's get your arm set and get you out of here before these guys wake up."
Raphael braced himself, and looked at the dozens of men strewn across the rooftop. He pointed one out at random. "Do you remember how you took out that guy?"
"There's a knife in his thigh, so mystery solved," Donatello wisecracked, as he arranged his first aid supplies.
"Do you remember kicking it into him while you fought two other guys?" Raphael pressed.
Donnie chuckled. "That's preposterous."
"Then how'd you do it?" Raphael quizzed.
Don rolled his eyes dismissively. He had more important things to worry about. He handed Raphael a bit of leather. "Bite down on this. I'm going to set your arm now."
Raphael would've continued hounding Donatello, but he passed out. The next time he woke up, he was in Donatello's lab, laying on a cot, surrounded by his brothers and his father.
"Ack," Raphael groaned. "The light."
"Sorry, sorry," Michelangelo hissed. He jumped out of his chair and turned off the light.
"Hey, I was using that," Donatello complained.
"Sorry, sorry," Mikey said again. He flicked the light back on.
"Gah!" Raph moaned. He closed his eyes and attempted to put an arm across them. It freaking hurt! He'd forgotten that he'd broken it.
Raphael winced and opened his eyes to check the damage. He had expected to be in a cast, but instead, he was in a homemade brace, that seemed to be temporary. He looked to Leonardo, silently demanding an explanation.
Leonardo grinned. "Hey, Raph. Good to see you with your eyes open."
"Whatever," Raphael dismissed. "Does someone want to explain what's going on?"
"Well, Donatello got you to the rally point," Leo answered. "We've been home for a few hours now. You've been going in and out of consciousness since we got you back. You have a concussion and a broken arm."
Raphael could tell that there was more. He glared at Leo, not so patiently awaiting the rest of the story. Leo slumped in his chair. "Donatello, Master Splinter and I have all tried to set your arm, but it's not sitting right."
Raphael closed his eyes. "Awesome."
"Don't worry too much," Leo comforted. "Don thinks that he has a solution."
As of on cue, Donatello stepped forward. "Does your arm hurt?" he asked.
"Yup," Raphael confirmed.
Don poked his hand. "Do you feel this?"
"Yup," Raphael repeated.
Donatello touched Raphael's wrist. "What about here?"
"Yup," Raphael repeated, yet again.
"Okay," Donatello said, producing an alcohol swab. "I'm going to inject you with a numbing agent."
Before Raphael could complain, Donatello had already done it. "Excuse me," Don said. He tossed the syringe into the garbage with one hand and pulled out his phone with the other.
"Yes, I'm calling to arrange for rental of a portable x-ray scanner. Any bedside model will do." Don paused to listen. "Mmm hmm. Mmm hmm. Yes, it sounds like that one will do nicely. We just need a one-day rental while our main machine is being repaired. Now, is that available for immediate pickup? Mmm hmm. Okay. No, I don't need to set up an account. Let's just put it on my credit card. Okay. Thank you. Delivery?- no thanks. I'll just send someone from the staff to come pick it up. We've worked with these before. Set up won't be an issue. Okay. Thank you. We'll see you in an hour." Don hung up the phone.
"I'll call April," Leonardo volunteered. "She can pick it up in the van and bring it down here."
Don returned to Raphael's bedside and began poking his arm. "Do you feel that?"
Raphael glared at him, warningly. "No."
Don poked another spot. "Do you feel that?"
"No!" Raphael yelled, despite the pounding in his skull. "Could you just slow down for a minute! What's going through your head right now, Donatello?"
Don shrunk down a little. "Well, the bone won't stay set, so we need to pin or screw the broken pieces together. I need an x-ray machine to figure out the best way to do that. Then, I need to make the pins, or screws, or plates, or wires, or whatever, then do the surgery."
"Surgery!" Raphael barked. "No way that I'm letting you do surgery on me!"
"If you want a fully functional arm again, you will," Donatello countered.
"You're no doctor, Donatello," Raphael felt the need to point out.
For a moment, Donatello looked very tired. He sat down on the corner of the cot, next to Raph's knees. "Believe me, I know. But we don't have access to real doctors, and unless you want one of the others to do it, this is going to fall to me."
The look on Don's face made Raph feel so guilty. He'd managed to get himself hurt, somehow. It was all his fault that Donatello was getting this dumped on him. But here Don was, stepping up to the plate yet again, and here Raphael was, shouting and openly doubting Don's competence. Really, when had Donatello ever failed any of them?
Raphael reached out with his good arm and touched Don's hand. "So, you think you can do this?"
Donatello brightened a little. "Yeah. I wouldn't take the risk if I wasn't. It's a fairly minor procedure. I'm not going to try to put you to sleep. That'd be way too risky. Instead, I'll just use the numbing agent as local anesthesia. I'll use the x-ray to figure out the best place to cut, and the best way to set the bone. Then, I'll get in and out as quick as possible, so that you don't lose too much blood. It'll be fine!"
"Whatever you say," Raphael consented.
Don spent about 24 hours preparing for the surgery. He had to figure out how to run the x-ray machine, prepare a surgical plan, then make the required bone pins. Raphael was fairly confident that Donatello didn't sleep during that time, which made him a bit nervous, given that Donatello was now standing over him with a scalpel. Donnie told him not to worry, then asked Leonardo to tie on the blindfold. All in all, the surgery took less than a half hour. Donatello played the part of surgeon, with Leonardo and Master Splinter assisting. Mikey's job was to keep Raphael calm and hold his good hand.
When it was over, Mikey removed the blindfold. Raphael watched Donatello stitch him up, then apply a temporary cast. "Alright," Don said, finishing up with the wrap. "Everything looked really good. Once the anesthesia wears off, we'll test the function in your hand to make sure that there's no nerve damage. I think that the bone will be just fine, though."
"Thanks, Dr. Don," Raph said warmly.
Donatello smiled. "No problem." He tossed his custom-designed surgical gloves into the trash can and brought a hand up to massage his sore shoulder muscles. "If you're feeling all right, I'm going to catch a nap."
"I'd say you earned it," Raphael consented. "I'm feeling fine."
"Okay." Don yawned, then looked to Leonardo. "Come get me if anything seems off."
"Hey, Donnie?" Raphael called before Donatello could leave the room "I'm really sorry about all this."
"Don't be," Don said, firmly. "You only got hurt because you were watching my back, as always."
Raphael chose not to argue. Due to the concussion, he had no recollection of how he got hurt. Instead, he said, "It's good to know that you're watching mine too."
"Of course," Donatello replied. He yawned again as he was leaving. "Always."
After the sound of Donatello's footsteps died out, Raphael turned to Leonardo. "Have you ever seen Donnie spin on the top of his shell, then use only his neck to spring up to his feet?"
Leonardo chuckled. "Nobody could do that, Raphael. You'd better get some rest too."
Master Splinter allowed Raphael to sit in on practice the next day, although he was not allowed to participate. Instead, he studied his family and found himself wondering where the Donatello he had seen on that rooftop had disappeared to. Even if Raphael had been hallucinating, the pile of defeated warriors served as a testament to Donatello's strength and power.
Today, Donatello could hardly get a decent hit in. Sure, Don still seemed tired and it appeared that he had a sore neck, but those two things alone didn't explain the discrepancy. "Come on, Donnie," Raphael found himself cheering after Michelangelo knocked the genius down yet again. "You can do better than that!"
Donatello frowned and adjusted his purple mask. "Since when do you play the role of cheerleader, Raphael?"
"Since I'm being forced to sit on the sidelines, I guess. But, I also think that the rest of us could stand to learn a little from you, and since when are you shy about teaching?" Raphael wondered.
"I don't think that I have a darn thing to teach you guys when it comes to martial arts," Donatello replied. "Physics, maybe."
"Is that your secret? Were you using physics?" Raphael asked.
"Not this again," Donatello groaned.
"Not what again?" Michelangelo wondered, if only to delay the next match.
"Raphael thinks that I have some sort of superpowers that I haven't told you about," Don dismissed.
"Like what? Flying?" Mikey asked.
Raphael blew out a frustrated puff of air. "No, just crazy fighting moves he's been holding back."
"Not true," Donnie said with a chuckle. "I've only got my regular stuff that you guys see every day. Raph is just having a hard time grasping reality."
"I'm not the one who claims not to be able to remember what happened," Raphael pointed out.
"Oh please," Don scoffed. "Who remembers every single move that they make in a fight?"
"I do," Leonardo said softly, raising one hand halfway up into the air.
"Nobody asked you!" Raphael snapped.
"Didn't Donnie just askā¦" Leo shook his head. "Nevermind. Back to practice."
Donatello's supposed fancy moves, which he insisted were a figment of Raphael's concussed imagination, were the source of endless good-natured teasing in the next few weeks. Both Leonardo and Michelangelo attempted their own variations, only to be met with abject failure. They attempted to coerce Don into giving them a demonstration, but he continued to insist that what Raphael had described wasn't possible. He absolutely refused to entertain any ideas to the contrary. Eventually, Michelangelo drew a step-by-step comic of everything that Raphael insisted that he had seen, in the hopes that it would help the others to learn the proper steps.
"You can't be serious," Donnie said as he leafed through the pages. "For the last time, Raphael imagined all of that!" Donatello pointed to a particularly offensive panel. "I mean, look at this!"
"Why are you being so modest about this, Donatello?" Raphael asked. "Just admit you've got the moves!"
"Because I don't have the moves! No one does! I'm not being modest!" Don insisted. "I just don't want anyone getting hurt while attempting the impossible."
"You were rubbing your neck a lot those first few days," Michelangelo considered. "You sure it wasn't from doing a neck-spring?"
"There's no such thing as a neck-spring!" Don persisted. "I was rubbing my neck because I was stressed out. Over a period of 48 hours, I diffused a mutagen bomb, beat back an army, jumped across rooftops covering several city blocks with an unconscious brother on my back, and then planned and performed impromptu surgery on said brother. Excuse me for developing a crick in my neck!"
"Well, I guess he wasn't kidding about not being modest," Michelangelo quipped.
A few days later, Donatello signed into a specialized computer program that he'd written. The turtles had always feared being discovered, and with the proliferation of security cameras, traffic cameras, ATM cameras, even doorbell cameras, eliminating digital footprints had become quite important. Donnie had hacked as many online data repositories as he could, and left behind a few lines of his own code. Basically, it tracked the locations of the turtles via their cell phones. If any camera feeds had caught them, Don's code would digitally erase the turtles' presence, so that no one reviewing the videos ever saw them.
But first, the unedited footage was sent to a little database that only Donatello had access to, just in case it was ever needed. Donnie checked the files from the night that Raphael had been hurt. Sure enough, there was a security camera mounted over the door of the shed that Raphael had been holed up in.
Donnie clicked on the footage, fully expecting to see a standard fighting sequence. After confirming that Raphael had been hallucinating, Don planned to show the footage to his brothers, in the hopes of putting an end to the crazy-talk once and for all. He hit play and zoomed ahead to the time of the battle. Don's jaw practically hit the desk as he watched the footage. He had done everything that Raphael had claimed he did, and more.
Knowing now that he really could execute those moves, Donnie closed the computer program, cleared a spot on his lab floor, and attempted to reproduce what he had just seen. He jumped and spun in the air, falling into a backward somersault. He swung his hips and rolled a shoulder. It set him spinning rapidly on the lip of his shell, just like he had seen on the video. So far so good.
He didn't dare throw anything, but he pretended to be tossing shuriken. Telling himself to believe that the next part really was possible, he rapidly arched his neck, attempting to spring upwards.
It did not work.
"Ack!" he hollered, as he violently pulled every single muscle in his neck. He got just enough elevation to inadvertently flip over onto his side. The momentum from the spin sent him careening across the room, only stopping when he collided with his desk chair.
The resulting crash sent all of his brothers running. "Donatello, what happened?!" Leonardo demanded, offering his brother a hand in getting up off of the floor.
"I slipped," Don fibbed, rubbing his sore neck.
"And landed underneath your desk?" Michelangelo said, doubtfully.
Raphael squinted in disbelief but decided to keep his mouth shut. He owed Donatello at least that much.
That night, Donatello had to sleep with several heating pads. He never told his brothers about what he saw on that video. Showing off and gaining bragging rights was highly unnecessary. It was clear that he'd never be able to replicate those moves in practice anyway. It was one of those adrenaline-fueled acts that was only possible in the heat of the moment, like lifting a car off of a baby. But, it was good to know what he was capable of, just in case he ever had to play bodyguard to an out-of-commission brother again.
