Disclaimer: I do not own the ninja turtles or associated characters. I make no money from this. I mean no harm. Yadda, yadda, yadda... Please don't sue me.
Chapter 2
When Splinter awoke the next morning, he could not rouse Donatello. He frantically checked the boy's breathing and pulse and found nothing. The child had finally succumbed to the illness that had been battering his small body for the past month and a half. Splinter mourned the loss of his small son, but could not help but hope that the child was in a better place; one where he could run and play and take things apart to his heart's content. He gently caressed the lost child's cheek as silent tears fell on a chest that would never again rise and fall. Running a thumb just above Donatello's left eye, he cried for the intelligent sparkle that would never again light the eyes beneath the closed lids. He did not know how long he had been there, but it had to have been a long time, because Leonardo interrupted him.
"Daddy?" The young boy asked worriedly, startling the rat. "Crying?" He asked carefully. Splinter's tears upsetting him as well.
As if the loss of Donatello were not bad enough on its own, Splinter realized that we would now have to explain it to the boy's brothers. And he had no clue how to do that.
"Daddy?" Leonardo prodded again.
"I am sorry, my son." Splinter finally spoke. "I am just very sad right now." He tried to wipe away a tear and only succeeded in smashing it into his fur as he stood from the bed after carefully wrapping Donatello's body in the purple blanket the child had always preferred. "Are your brothers awake yet?"
Leo nodded and looked up at Splinter with a concerned expression. "No Donnie?" He asked, surprised that the small turtle had been left on the bed.
"No, not anymore." Splinter admitted sadly. "Would you please get your brothers and meet me in the living room?"
Leonardo nodded solemnly then scurried off to find Michelangelo and Raphael. Splinter took a shuddering breath as he watched the child go. He still did not know what he was going to tell them when he arrived in the living room ten minutes later to find the three turtles seated on the couch, a small space in between Michelangelo and Leonardo that was usually filled by Donatello. Splinter forced back tears at the space on the couch that would never again be occupied by the quiet, little boy. Unable to look at it any longer, he took the empty space on the couch, much to the confusion of the turtles and pulled his three remaining children into a tight hug.
"Where Donnie?" Michelangelo asked suddenly, causing Splinter to relax his hold on the three boys.
"Donatello is taking a nap." Splinter finally said. "A very, very long nap."
"ti' afternoon?" Mikey asked innocently.
"No, not until the afternoon. Much longer. It is a different kind of nap; one he is not going to be waking up from."
"but make car." Raphael objected.
"I am sorry, my son." Splinter forced out. "He did not mean to leave us like this, but he had to. I am sure though, that Donatello knows about the car you made for him and loves it very much, even though he cannot play with it."
"Donnie no wake?" Leonardo asked carefully.
"No, my son. Your brother cannot wake up." Splinter affirmed, if it was possible, his heart broke a little more at the expression on the faces of his remaining children as they seemed to figure out, on some level, that Splinter was telling them that their brother was dead.
Over the course of the next few days, Splinter found himself hard pressed to keep up with the three remaining children. He was upset at the loss of Donatello as were the three children, or at least, he thought they should be. It was Michelangelo's response to his brother's passing that was most upsetting to Splinter.
"Donnie hungry!" Michelangelo objected when Splinter only set out three plates of food at dinner.
"We have discussed this, Michelangelo. Donatello is no longer with us. I am sorry, My son, but he is gone."
"No, Daddy." the child objected. "there." Michelangelo pointed to Donatello's customary spot at the kitchen table, and Splinter sighed in response. He didn't know what to do in this situation. Nothing he did could convince Michelangelo that his smallest brother was not in that chair. In the end, Splinter wound up putting a small amount of food on a plate in Donatello's spot, just to keep Michelangelo happy and quiet.
The next week showed more concerning aspects of Michelangelo's behavior and it seemed that Raphael and Leonardo had picked up some of the more troubling habits that Michelangelo had first exhibited. The three turtles continued to leave a space between them that their missing brother had once filled. He occasionally heard them speaking to Donatello as well, and that was most troubling of all. All three of them flatly refused to believe that Donatello was gone, and anytime Splinter brought the subject up, or acted like Donatello was not present, the three turtles were quick to point out that their brother was there. It was confusing to the rat, and he had no idea what to do. Now more than ever before he wished that he had access to some sort of counseling for the three children. It was something that he did not seem able to give.
More than a month had passed since Donatello had failed to wake up, and Leonardo was playing Chutes and Ladders with no one; at least, Splinter didn't see anyone. It had become something of a habit for the small turtle lately. He wasn't paying much attention, but both pieces seemed to be moving around the board. Another sigh escaped him, and he felt like he had truly failed the children who had come into his life three and a half years ago. All three of them still seemed to think that their brother was alive.
"Not know why Daddy t'ink you not here." Leonardo told the air across the board from him. There was a pause then the child spoke again. "know he 'ay you take nap, but know you not... know you not 'leep." Another pause. "No think you do bad. Daddy weird." The small turtle stated flatly to the air across the board from him.
As he watched Leonardo talking to the empty space he could almost see a small green and purple shimmer in the space that the young turtle was watching as he spoke. When Splinter focused on the spot, the shimmer went away and he decided that his mind had to have been playing tricks on him.
"Know he forget you now." The young turtle continued. "He weird." Then Leonardo sighed. "I a'k, but he weird." There was another pause as Leonardo seemed to listen to something that was said before the child spoke again, this time to Splinter.
"Donnie want know why you pretend he not here, Daddy. Want know if do bad."
"Leonardo..." Splinter started sadly. He did not like to discuss Donatello in this manner, it was too painful. "Your brother is not here, Leonardo, you know that."
"No, Daddy. He here. He gone, but they not want him and he come back. You pretend he not here, but ISH!" The child shouted, jumping up from his game. "HE RIGHT HERE!" The young turtle insistently pointed to the space across the board game from him.
"Leonardo, cease this behavior immediately-" again a pale green and purple shimmer flashed at the edge of his vision and Splinter found himself questioning himself once more, but it simply wasn't possible.
"Daddy, they mean to him there! He come back because think we love, but you pretend not here! You make him go 'way 'gain!" Leonardo cried. "No! Donnie! No leave me!" The young turtle sobbed before jumping across the board and throwing his arms around something that was not there. Again Splinter saw the soft shimmer and wondered if there actually was something else going on here. A small piece of his mind began to wonder if maybe his children were correct. The shimmer darkened and solidified for a brief moment, revealing the child whose body Splinter had burned over a month ago, but the image started to fade again.
"Donatello," the rat asked almost silently, "is that- is that you?" The fading shimmer, looking impossibly like his lost turtle with that old, purple blanket wrapped around his shoulders, turned toward him but faded away to nothingness before getting all the way around.
"He here." Leonardo insisted again. "He not 'leep no more. He here, Daddy."
For the next few weeks, Splinter spotted that shimmer around the lair from time to time, and began to question it even more. It simply wasn't possible, and yet here it was. The child he had thought lost was still with them. As he spotted the shimmer more and more often, the soft outline began to solidify, and every now and then he could actually feel the small turtle. A turtle who, Splinter's mind told him, was not supposed to be there.
"Donatello?" Splinter asked the air where he had last spotted the shimmer.
"He 'istening," Michelangelo informed him.
"Thank you, My son." Splinter said to the living child before continuing his conversation with the one who could not possibly be present. "Donatello, you no longer belong here. I know that you liked it here, and as much as I wish you could stay, you have to move on. You need to move on, My son. Please, Donatello, you have to go."
"You not want me?" A small, timid, heartbroken and painfully familiar voice asked.
"No, that is not it at all. Every day, I wish you were back with me, Donatello, but you cannot stay here. You belong in a better place. Please, my son, you do not know how it pains me to say this, but you need to go."
"But they not want me." the soft voice replied. Splinter could almost see tears running down the tiny turtle's cheeks, and he wanted nothing more than to take the boy in his arms and hold him. "Nobody want me." And to Splinter, the child faded out.
"I want you, Donnie." Michelangelo said. After a moment the young boy turned on his father with an icy glare that Splinter had never before seen on the child's features. "You make him go 'way again!" Mikey screamed.
"My son," Splinter tried to console the child, pulling the young turtle into a hug. "Donatello no longer belongs here. He has to move on, there is a better place that is waiting for him. Michelangelo would have none of it.
"They not want him! They HATE HIM! Now YOU HATE HIM!" Mikey screamed as he fought to get away from Splinter. "AND I HATE YOU!" Mikey broke free of his father's arms and raced out into the sewers, screaming Donatello's name as he ran.
Splinter did not know what to do, this was something he was so utterly and completely unprepared for. It was something he had never even imagined happening. And it seemed so much worse than even his mutation and the arrival of the four young turtles in his life three and a half years ago.
Racing out into the sewers after Michelangelo, it was not long before Splinter found himself apologizing to a soft shimmer. His life was about to change... again.
A/N: I DID mark supernatural in the genre. Please don't kill me!