Disclaimer: Not mine but I'm still wishing on stars…

Author Notes: Wanted to have this posted yesterday but I ended up getting called back to work because our glorious computer system crashed and no one there knew how to retrieve all the 'lost' data. I think I have maybe four hours of sleep under my belt in the pass twenty four hours.

Pardon me while I go sleep the sleep of the dead. Logs aren't going to have anything on this. Enjoy and I'll go back through later when I am more awake and do a quick sweep for any mistakes that may have slipped past my sleep deprived mind.

Snow Blind

Chapter Three

Donatello didn't remember falling asleep.

He woke slowly, disoriented for a moment on why he felt like he had been run over by a bus before his memories caught up to him. That's right he had been blinded and hurt by the Purple Dragons, kidnapped by the Nightwatcher and taken somewhere against his will. Not the best way to spend an evening.

And he still had to find Raphael.

He hoped that his brother was alright. Donatello knew better than to think that he had been awoken before the blizzard hit. As if to punctate his thought a burst of wind rattled a window pane nearby and he felt a slight draft roll over his cheek. Suddenly, a terrifying thought accord to him. What if Raph was caught in the blizzard because he was trying to find Don with the tracking program?

"Aw shell," Don said in a weak voice. He could feel his throat sticking together as he tried to swallow. Hopefully, Raphael had enough sense to take cover somewhere when the blizzard hit. Of course, lately Donatello had serious been doubting that his IQ was even higher than that of a rock but miracles could happen.

He knew he shouldn't be as harsh as he was but Raphael was seriously grating on his nerves as of late. He had never understood how Leo and Raph could fight all the time about seemingly everything but now he was starting to see why. Raphael chaffed at any form of authority, he was the typical rebellious teen in the family, but more importantly he thrived in an environment where he was a protector. Since Leo had left and Master Splinter had deemed it unsafe for his three remains sons to go out to get into fights every night, Raphael had been looking for an outlet which just happened to be the 'new leader' as Raph called him sometimes.

It wasn't fair that he and Raph were fighting all the time. He missed hanging out with his older brother, working on shellcycle or battleshell or just helping improve on his medical training. Shell, he wished they could watch a movie together without getting into an argument about something. Still, this was a burden that Leo had asked him to uphold, so he would. Hopefully, i-when Leo came back, he could somehow salvage their relationship. It would be a long process –Raph didn't let his guard down very easily or often enough and even if he didn't say anything Don knew that some of the things he had said were way out of line- but one he would make a point of overcoming. No matter how long it took.

Speaking of time, Master Splinter and Mikey were probably worried sick about him. He had to get home or at least tell them he was somewhat alright even if he wasn't sure where the Nightwatcher took him or what his plan for him was. Oh yeah, that was going to put them at ease. Might as well just tell them the truth and then beg them both to stay at home until the blizzard blew over. The last thing he wanted to think of was the two of them out in this weather.

Donatello heaved a sigh and went to sit up. He hadn't realized how much pain medication he had been given until he had moved. He gasped and flopped back down. He only made it about an inch off the mattress before the pain hit. It took him a moment to worm his hand thorough the mass of blankets he was swathed in but it took him even less than that to trace around the bandage in his side and realize just how serious his injury was.

He couldn't tell how deep the wound in his side was but he had felt the familiar pull of stiches as he tried to move. From the feel of it, the stitches went from the edge of his plastron in a gradual upward sweep almost to his shell. That meant that his entire side just about where his intestines and kidney were had been laid open. At least he hadn't been cut deep enough to cause them to spill out, that was a small relief.

At least he didn't think he had undergone surgery.

"So you're awake finally?" He rolled his head towards the voice which was coming from beyond the foot of the bed somewhere to his left. The Nightwatcher, he recognized the voice immediately. He tensed, feeling vulnerable with his lack of eyesight and general weakness from his injuries.

"Hey, take it easy," the voice was approaching him and so was the scuffing of boots. It was somewhat reassuring that the Nightwatcher was broadcasting his movements as he came around to the side of the bed that Donatello was on. "Don't get all worked up."

"Where are we?" he croaked.

"An abandon apartment complex in Brooklyn," the vigilante had come around and was standing next to the bed. There was a slight creak of leather as he either bent or crouched down near him. "I'm going to lift the back of your head and help you drink some water, okay?"

He didn't like the thought of the man touching him but he was thirsty and he knew he needed to rehydrate himself. He gave a single sharp nod to show his consent but still flinched when the Nightwatcher slipped a hand behind his head and raised it off the pillow for him. He was still wearing gloves too which Donatello thought was odd but he quickly forgot about it as he began to drink deeply from the glass. Water had never tasted so good.

Once he had drank his fill the Nightwatcher resettled his head on the pillow and pulled the blankets away from his side to get a good look at the bandage there. "Looks like the bleeding has finally stopped," he seemed to mumble more to himself then to Don. The blankets were tucked back around him. "What can you see?" he asked and Donatello could easily hear the trepidation in his voice.

"Nothing," which was true. It was both disconcerting and frightening that he could feel his eyes were open and blinking but not being able to see anything. He quickly turned his mind away from that train of thought. The last thing he needed right now was to panic about being blind. He had to hope that there was a way to fix his eyesight because the thought of losing it forever scared him more than he ever wanted to admit. Almost everything he did revolved around him being able to see. He was sure he would be able to survive without it but the thought of never playing on his computer anymore or working in his lab or driving or even reading a book filled him with despair. He hadn't done any of that in a long time but he could if he could tear himself away from his busy schedule he would fall back into his old hobbies with unrestrained glee.

There was a slight click before the Nightwatcher said. "Are you seeing anything now?"

"Just the same black blur as before." Don figured that the click had been from a flashlight turning on. The click came again as it was most likely turned off and that small sound came with a finality that chilled him even more. Despite the blankets piled on him, he shivered slightly.

The blankets were rearranged on him and seemed to get slightly heavier. He wondered how many blankets were on him in the first place as the Nightwatcher practically tucked him into the bed. This was ridiculous. "I'm going to heat up some tomato soup for you, just take it easy till I come back."

"What do you want from me?" Donatello asked in all seriousness, frowning and half glaring at the man standing over him. He could tell that most of the affect was lost but it seemed to get his point across because the Nightwatcher heaved a small sigh before answering.

"Nothing, I'm one of the good guys, remember? After the storm I'll let you go back to your family. I'm not going to hold you any longer than that."

Family?! "How -?"

"Relax," the vigilante soothed. "Your phone rang, I didn't find it in your belt until whoever it was had already hung up but I sent out a text message to the same number saying that you were here with whoever this 'Raph' is. You've been calling for him in your sleep."

Don felt his face color slightly at that but knew that he had larger problems than his dignity right now. This was going from bad to worse, fast. It was bad enough that the Nightwatcher knew about him but to know that he had a family as well was dangerous. If he let the information leak-

"And to help you stop panicking, I swear on my name as a vigilante that I will not tell anyone about you. As far as I'm concerned, after this storm, I have never seen you," he quickly added on as if knowing what Donatello was thinking.

He knew better than to trust him but at this point there would be little for him to do to argue with him or really protest in anyway. He doubted that he would be able to get out of bed and walk about on his own at this point regardless of trying to fight back against him. The combination of drugs and the dull ache that flared as soon as he moved wrong or too fast was all but crippling him. He would have to wait and watch. If the Nightwatcher let him go then maybe Donatello would believe him to keep his word.

"Now let me get you some tomato soup and then you can rest a bit more."

"No," Donatello said realizing something suddenly at the second offering for food. "Not tomato." Tomato soup had a high acid count and an overpowering taste. There was no telling what kind of drugs could be ground up and put into. He wouldn't be able to taste the bitterness of a crushed pill in tomato soup.

"Okay, not tomato, I think I have some chicken noodle instead?"

Chicken noodle soup on the other hand, had a very mild almost light taste. He would easily be able to detect if the Nigthwatcher was trying to slip him something. "Sure, that sounds better."

"Alright, try and rest. If you can, go back to sleep. I'll wake you when I come back in." The scuffing footsteps left the bedside and out of the room. Donatello could barely hear the sounds of the vigilante moving about in what he assumed was the kitchen some distance from the doorway.

Donatello relaxed back onto the bed, trying to calm down a bit. The Nightwatcher was right to some extent. The more rest he got now the strong his immune system would be against infection and he would feel better. He did feel like he hadn't had a restful sleep in a while and he knew he was overstressed before all this happened.

However, his mind was in overdrive. Master Splinter and Mikey would be worried about him. Raph, where ever he was, was either fuming that Don had sent out a tracking text or that there was nothing he could do about it. Or -and he hoped that this wasn't what had happened- he was out in this weather trying to get to him.

If Raph did happen to show up somehow, Don knew that he would feel a lot safer with his big brother watching over him.

-Break-

Raphael wanted to heave a sigh of relief as he left the bedroom but didn't want Donnie to pick up on it and call his bluff. He had managed to get Don to accept his reasoning even if he had messed it up a bit. He hadn't meant to mention knowing about Master Splinter and Mikey but it had just slipped out despite his intentions. Luckily Don seemed to buy his weak excuse even if it had been the only one he had come up with the short time he had been unconscious.

Still, he knew this wasn't over and he really didn't want to deal with the fall out if he managed to piece it together. Raph was fairly certain that if he so much as breathed wrong Don would be able to piece together who was really taking care of him. That was an argument he wanted to avoid at all costs, especially with as badly injured as Donnie was. Knowing his rather poor luck, Don would end up popping a stitch yelling at him and have an aneurism from the stress or something. No, right now he was doing fine. He just had to keep the act up.

Still, Raph thought it was weird that Donatello had turned down the tomato soup. It was one of his favorites next to the Italian soup with those tiny noodles that looked more like Smarties and the just slightly larger meatballs. He knew he didn't have that one squirreled away but he had several cans of both tomato and chicken noodle in the cardboard. He probably had some good reason for not taking it. Maybe he had an upset stomach? The acid in the tomato soup would just make him even sicker. He should have thought of the chicken noddle to begin with.

Too bad he didn't have any of Mikey's homemade chicken noodle, Don could practically eat a whole pot by himself, but it would blow his cover beyond repair

He peaked in the fridge as the soup began to warm on the stove. There was plenty of coke, a couple Mountain Dews and a few Sprites but he didn't see any ginger ale. There was milk but he wasn't sure if that would be a good thing to have on an upset stomach. He grumbled to himself as he closed the door. The old turtle luck was back again to plague him.

A soft noise from the bedroom caught his attention and he quietly slipped over to check on his brother. Donatello was still lying in the bed were he had been when Raph had left the room but it looked as if he was playing with the bandage on his side again. Raph resisted the urge to get him to stop. Don was probably just trying to figure out how bad it was. He was staring blankly up at the ceiling which made Raph begin to get pissed.

Just the same black blur as before. Raph gritted his teeth in anger as a feeling of helplessness washed over him. He didn't know what to do or if there was even anything he could do. He doubted that the Dragons had enough commonsense or any kind of sense to put together something that could permanently blind someone with gas. Stockman and Bishop were around still, as was the Foot, so one of them may have supplied the Dragons with it but considering how Hun was playing his cars nowadays it was unlikely that a Dragon would even take something from one of them. That would just be a sure fire way for an unfortunate Dragon to become Hun's punching bag for the next week.

Raphael stepped away from the doorway and went back to making soup for his brother. In reality, he just stared at the pot on the stove as it heated the soup, occasionally stirring it, but mostly just staring at it as he tried to come to terms with the thought of Donatello being blind for the rest of his life. It was impossible to imagine, everything that Don did -even for fun- he needed to be able to see. He would be crippled.

And it was all his fault.

When the soup was done warming up, Raphael poured it into a heavy mug that he carted in to his brother. Donatello hadn't fallen asleep like he had hoped so he deliberately scuffed his feet so that his brother could tell where he was. A pair of sightless eyes followed him as he came around to the side of the bed. It would have been a bit unnerving and he would have assumed that Donatello was lying about not being able to see anything except for the fact that he was looking at a spot about a foot above his helmet.

"Here," he said as he gently took one of Donatello's hands ignore how the smaller turtle flinched when he first touched him. He twisted that hand around and placed the mug against the palm. "Some chicken soup." He didn't let go of the mug until he was sure that Don had a good grip on it and even then he kept his hands out and hovering nearby the mug until Don had both hands wrapped around it.

Donatello sipped at the soup and, at a loss of what to do next, Raphael found himself standing there watching. Don turned towards him again and frowned in his general direction. "Are you going to watch me eat?" he said in a clipped tone. Raphael recognized it as the tone of voice he developed right before the two of them started arguing about something.

He almost snapped a yes at him just on principle but he refrained. Right now he did not want to get into an argument with him. Raph wanted to avoid one at all costs. He didn't want Don to start fighting him. He was being standoffish enough which made sense given his perceived circumstance. "Was wondering if there was anything else you needed or wanted right away," Raph silently congratulated himself on how reasonable that sounded. It was becoming easier and easier to tell lies with every new one he had to tell.

"I'm good for now," Don said turning away from him and returning to his soup in obvious dismissal.

"Right," Raph felt himself deflate slightly and knew that it showed in his voice as Don tilted his head to one side. "I'll be in the other room if you need me." He headed for the door, scuffing his feet again. "Yell if you need anything, I'll check on you in a couple hours."

He was almost out the door when Donatello said, "Nightwatcher?" He paused and looked at the other turtle expectantly. Don bit his lip before letting out a little sigh, "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Raph said off handedly like he always did and immediately cringed. If Don recognized that… he waited a moment but Don had gone back to his soup, staring off into the middle distance.

He walked back over the couch, removing his gloves as he went. It was a relief to take them and his helmet off, all of which were drop haphazardly onto the coffee table. The outfit was making it easier for him to hide from Don but it warmed up so fast, especially with the layer of insulation he had added to it to help keep him warm through the winter months. He sighed in relief as he unzipped and slid out of the upper portion of the body suit, tying the sleeves loosely around his waist to keep from tripping over them. It allowed him some comfort but it would be easy to get redressed and be back in the room in seconds if Don called for him.

He flopped on the couch and glanced over at the doorway leading to the bedroom. He knew in the back of his mind that Donnie wouldn't be able to rest very well as long as he was here. He should have thought of slipping him a little something in his soup when he had the chance. That thought got a full blown frown out of him and he stared out one of the two small windows in the main room at the blowing snow.

It looked nasty out there and he was glad that both he and Don were in here. Master Splinter had responded to Don's text, telling the two of them to stay warm, while Mikey's text basically said please don't kill each other. It had been sent in jest but all it had done was caused him to sigh, disappointed at himself. He had to stop fighting with Don so much, there had to be something that he could do to put him at ease, both here and later when they got home.

Raphael's frowned deepened and he leaned forward on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees as he glared intensely at the snow swirling outside the window. He needed to make Don feel safe and protected somehow, that would allow him to get the rest he needed. If there was someone here that Don knew would watch his back, than the smaller turtle would be out like a light. The only question was how?

Golden-brown eyes rested on the shell cells sitting innocently enough on the coffee table.

Perhaps it was time to 'call' in some backup.