Those Who Prey on Monsters
Those Who Prey on Monsters
Chapter Four: An Inch Becomes Infinity If You Don't Know It Exists
An excruciating pain woke Donatello, still in that damp shadowy alcove, still injured and bleeding, still clinging on to his last shreds of hope that were growing fainter with each second. A nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach was creeping up on Don and the feeling of the slick, slimy walls under his fingers, the pungent smell of rancid sewer water, and worst of all the never ceasing dripping of water only made Donnie feel worse. Groaning quietly he clutched at his stomach… and suddenly retched over the grimy floor.
Settling back against the rough stone wall Donatello's thoughts began to race. He knew that he needed to find his family but where could he even begin to look? A tight knot of panic settled in his throat. What if I never find them? Will they keep looking for me? Crocodile tears slipped down his dirty green cheeks and he wrapped his arms around his knees, sniffling softly. His last vestiges of hope were slipping away all too quickly.
Splash! Donnie's attention was caught by the sound of rancid sewer water splattering everywhere, which was soon accompanied by another sound, a voice.
'I know I heard something down here Tye. Boy I hope it's the one with the purple thing on his head! Or the red one would be good too. My legs are killing me cause of that little runt kicking me, I can't wait for a little payback!' Hidden from sight, Donatello felt his blood boil. These brutes wanted to hurt Raphael, his big brother! The purple clad ninja wished he could teach them a lesson but he knew he was too small, especially because the man he and Raph had attacked had been so big. Not knowing what else to do Don sat perfectly still and waited for the men to pass by.
However, it seemed that for the first time since this entire ordeal had begun, luck was shining down on Donatello. For, distracted by his own ranting of how he would 'pummel the freaks' the burly man did not notice where he was walking. Time seemed to slow as the man inadvertently stepped into the small puddle of sick and slid backwards, landing head first with a sickening crunch. Donnie froze. The world was rushing back in a blur of colour and noise but all the terrified turtle could register was the thick scarlet blood oozing everywhere. He's dead... and it's my fault.
Startling from his thoughts the shocked turtle noticed the other Intruder running full pelt out of the tunnel and as scared as he was Donatello took his chance to escape.
Carefully he stepped over the man's broken body and the nauseous sensation in his stomach seemed to triple. Ignoring the urge to vomit all over again the turtle ran… well more like limped. His entire body, so covered in cuts, bruises, filth and of course his shattered ankle, cried out in objection but he stubbornly kept moving.
He kept moving for what seemed like forever to the exhausted turtle. Finally the stabbing pain of his ankle, the ache of his battered body, and the general exhaustion that enveloped him caused Donatello to collapse, defeated, in the icy water. Slowly he drifted into a restless slumber, unaware that less than thirty feet away his family sat thinking of him in their new home.
Meanwhile, at the temporary lair he had found for his sons, Master Splinter was growing restless. He desperately wished to search for his missing son again but he could not leave his remaining children either. A world-weary sigh escaped him. Eventually he would have to leave for supplies, lest his sons begin to starve, so perhaps he could search for Donatello on his way. With that thought sparking a new hope inside him Master Splinter tugged on the heavy coat and large hat he wore to disguise himself on the surface. He had rescued these items specifically from the old lair when he realised how low his provisions really were.
'My sons?' His three young charges looked up at him, all of them with shiny red-rimmed eyes from crying. Splinter's heart just about broke there. His son's crying was one thing, but what hurt him the most was the notable absence of dark chocolate brown amongst the bright blue, hazel, and grey-green eyes. Gathering himself Splinter smiled comfortingly at his sons.
'I must leave for supplies. Do not leave the lair unless there is an emergency and if you must then stay together.' Sniffling, Michelangelo tugged on the hem of his fathers robe and Splinter turned to look at him directly.
'Master Splinter, are you gonna find Donnie?'
'I hope so my son.' Tearing himself away from his hurting sons Splinter ventured nervously into the sewers. All the way he kept a vigilant eye out for his son but he found nothing, little did he know that only feet away obscured behind a shadowed corner his purple clad son lay in dire need of rescue.
In their impromptu lair, the three young turtles worried over their missing brother. Surprisingly it was Michelangelo who was taking it the worst, for while Leonardo and Raphael sat together on the chilly floor Mikey paced in front of them, worry creasing the youngest turtles brow. The older turtles followed Mike's movements with their eyes, which flickered back and forth with his pacing as if they were watching a tennis match.
'What if Master Splinter don't find him?' Mikey asked in a panicked voice.
'Don't worry Mikey, he will.' Leo assured, although he didn't know if he believed himself.
'But maybe he's hurt!'
'He'll be okay Mikey.' Again Leonardo tried to comfort his brother.
'But what if-'
'Mikey!' At last Michelangelo paused in his pacing and all eyes turned to Raphael, 'Donnie'll be fine. He's gotta be.' Raphael's voice cracked with emotion and without a thought Leo scooched closer to wrap an arm around his younger brothers trembling shoulders. Seeing Raph cry was the last straw for Mikey and the young ninja rushed off into the sewers in a blaze of determination. Shocked, Leonardo and Raphael chased after their little brother who they could hear calling for Donnie.
Mikey could hear his older brothers behind him but he kept moving, he had to find Don. All he could remember was all the nice things Donnie had done for him over the years. Donatello was always kindest to him and memories of Don assaulted his mind; Donnie comforting Mikey in the midst of thunderstorms, or applauding loudly when Mikey won in sparring, or even how not too long ago he had smacked that horrible man's knees to try and save him. Furiously, Mikey scrubbed at his teary eyes.
'Donnie!' he screamed into the endless black tunnels, forgetting for the moment that a group of psychos were after their tails. He kept running, he had to keep searching.
'Donnie! Donnie! Don-' Mikey's voice cut off abruptly as he tripped over something sprawled on the floor. Quickly he sprung his green hands forwards to break his fall, and he could hear Raph and Leo's panicked shouts.
'I'm fine! I'm okay, I just-' again Mikey didn't finish his sentence. As he had turned to shout back to his brothers he caught sight of the unknown obstacle that had caused him to tumble and his breath caught in his throat.
Donnie. Lying there on the floor, so still, bleeding and bruised almost beyond recognition. Raphael and Leonardo had caught up and at the sight of their beaten brother choked sobs escaped both of them.
Carefully the three brothers picked up Donatello's trembling, icy cold body and being mindful of his ankle, and all the other injuries that littered his body, the turtles carried him home.
After several more hours of fruitless searching Splinter finally began to head home, the bag full of supplies slung over his shoulder. All he could think of was Donatello and when he neared the lairs entrance he felt a pang of sorrow knowing his son's would be disappointed that their brother would not be returned to them. With the weight of the world on his shoulders Splinter stepped into the lair, only to receive an incredible surprise.
Curled on the floor, Michelangelo, Leonardo, and Raphael surrounded none other than Donatello! Splinter could practically feel his heart soaring but he kept himself grounded. Gently he woke his three unharmed sons, who all exclaimed excitedly at his return. Shushing them softly he turned his attentions to Donatello and wiped away the grime and – he blanched – blood off of the boy's plastron. Thankfully Donatello's cuts were already mending themselves and the plethora of bruises would heal over time but one problem still made itself known. A very badly broken ankle.
With as much care as he could manage Splinter slipped Don's belt off and asked his sons to turn away. They did so without question and Splinter took several calming breaths. He had never tried what he was about to do but it was his only option. Cringing all the while he twisted then pulled Donatello's ankle. Snap! It realigned just as Splinter had hoped but the look of pain on his son's unconscious face sent twinges of remorse into Splinter.
Tenderly he wrapped his son's belt around his ankle and relatively pleased with his handiwork Splinter told his son's that they could turn around again as he wrapped the purple clad turtle in the same coat he had worn to the surface.
It was a tense night and not once did any member of the family leave Donnie's side. One by one the remaining turtles fell asleep, snuggled close to Don's cool body but Splinter could not find the same solace in slumber. So he waited, and wished for his son to return to them again.