A/N: Dedicated to my readers who felt Donatello didn't receive a fair representation in a fight between him and Casey in the story, Mikey's Girl. I was planning this scene all along, but this is for you Donnie fans. XD Enjoy and buckle up!
CHAPTER 10 – Rematch
Casey's eyes were bulging out of his skull as he raced down the steps down into the living room area to stand in front of Raphael and Splinter. He ran both hands through his dark hair. The words tumbled from his mouth so fast, Raphael frowned; his face moved side to side following Casey's head as it bobbed and shook as he spoke.
"Ah, man. Leo was right. I shoulda' never got involved with those bastards. What the hell was I thinkin'? Oh fuck. FUCK!"
Splinter held up a claw to quiet his string of curses.
"Mr. Jones. Please, what has happened?"
"Okay, right." He dropped his chin and raised his light blue eyes as he confessed to his surrogate family the truth, "I…I've been workin' for Venom. They're a rival to the Foot Clan."
Master Splinter's amber eyes widened. He titled his head, listening intently. Michelangelo gasped, mouth hanging open.
"What?!" Raphael hollered. He knew his friend wasn't the smartest human in the city, but this was taking things to a new level of stupidity. Raph touched the sides of his temples with his fingertips and threw his hands out to the side, "Of all the moronic things . . . You get mixed up in another ninja clan?! What were you thinkin'?"
"I was just doin' stupid little jobs. Bustin' heads of Foot soldiers." He shook his head, his long hair flapping against the sides of his face. He patting the air, swiping his hand from left to right, dismissing any further protests. "That doesn't matter now. Listen, they had me scopin' out a joint. They had a few of us scattered around the city watching for this sedan. This blonde got out and I let them know. That's all, at least, that's all I thought I had to do."
He looked helplessly from Master Splinter to Mikey to Raph. He threw his hands up in the air next to his head. He paced back and forth.
"Ugh, I screwed up, okay? I screwed up big time Masta Splinter. They…They wanted me to help out. With what they had planned to do with…with the lady."
Raphael's face fell into confusion, Mikey looked from Casey's frantic expression as he stared at Master Splinter, willing him to comprehend the situation, back to Leonardo, still standing quietly at the doorway. He didn't know what Casey was talking about in regards to the clan wanting his 'help' with the woman they captured, but an uneasiness pooled in his stomach. Then a disturbing thought struck him as he remembered the ninja that had gotten out of the limo and grabbed Karai from behind. Karai was wearing a blonde wig. His blue eyes widened as he put the pieces together. Oh man. This is bad with a capital 'B'. Before he could say what he'd figured out, Casey raised his hands.
He went on in a shaky voice, "I wanted no part in what they were planning. But I couldn't stand back and let them hurt her without doin' somethin'. I don't care who she is. No way. No way." He swept his hands through the air for emphasis. "I told them that was it. I was done. I left. But I wasn't gonna let them get away with it. I was comin' here. To ask for help. B…But I stopped over at April's to see her."
From the corner of his eye, Michelangelo saw Donatello rise slowly from the arm of the couch. His body rigid with sudden intensity. Uh oh. Casey put a hand on his hip and shook his head. He continued in a thick voice, "And the place was wrecked…she was gone. They left this."
He held up a scrap of wrinkled paper with a hand that shook. Michelangelo jumped to his feet from the back of the couch, stepped past Donatello who was standing stiffly a few feet away from Casey; staring at him with an acute focus. He snatched the note from Casey's hand and stood next to Raphael.
He read it aloud and scowled, "Dogs will be obedient?"
He looked up at Casey; eyes full of questions; handing the note to Raphael to read. Raph's eyes roved over the note and he crumpled it in his fist. He pinched his eyes closed tightly.
"Dammit, Casey. What have you done?"
A hoarse voice ripped through the brief moment of silence, "You."
Michelangelo and Raphael jumped back as Casey was tackled to the floor by Donatello. One of Casey's brown boots flew off his foot. Splinter cried out for him to stop. Donatello ignored him as he straddled the man and pulled back his left fist, while holding his shirt bunched in his wrapped right. Donatello punched him quickly in the mouth; once; twice. Casey brought up his hands defensively, but the ferocity of his blows knocked his arms away. Michelangelo fell on Donatello's shell. He grabbed Donnie underneath his arms and around his chest and heaved him off Casey. They stumbled back and fell in front of Raphael and Splinter. The shocked man sat up, wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of one hand and scowled.
"What the fuck!" he hollered; spitting blood.
Donatello scrambled madly and rolled off Michelangelo, inadvertently popping him in the snout with his elbow. Mikey cried out and rolled to one side as stars danced in front of his watering eyes. He hustled across the floor rising up from his hands and knees and lunged again at Casey with a snarl. Mikey gave a stuffed-up shout for him to stop as Splinter crouched to attend to his bleeding nose.
Casey crabbed backwards and jumped to his feet and barely hopped to one side before Donatello collided with him. Donatello wasted not a second and swung, holding nothing back, his fists flew at Casey's face. He dodged the first two swings only to receive a round house kick in the stomach. With a gasp of pain; he stumbled back into the kitchen; sputtering for breath. Donnie followed swiftly; jabbing fast with his left hand; keeping his injured right close to his chest; bringing his right foot around and knocking Casey against his temple. His head snapped sharply to the right. He toppled into the back of a kitchen chair. The legs shrieked against the linoleum as it slid from the impact. He shook his head as stars danced in front of his vision. His elbow painfully hooked over the backrest; it was the only thing keeping him upright.
Donatello came in swinging again, a blur of green fists and dark eyes. Casey moved his head to avoid the strikes. He brought his arm up to block; taking the painful blows against his forearm. His fingers on one hand wrestled for a hold and grabbed the chair and swung it around at Donatello's face. Too slow. He ducked, avoiding the impact. Donatello bunched his thighs and jumped straight up and knocked the chair from Casey's grasp with a spin kick.
Casey screamed as the chair flew from his hands and slammed into the refridgerator, "Dammit! What is your problem, Purple!?"
Voices concerned and angry filled the air, all shouting at once, "Donnie - !" "Knock it off!" "Stop! Stop this at once!" "There's no time for this!" "Donatello!"
Casey brought up his fist as he realized that Purple was only just getting started. His fist shot out and Donatello blocked, knocking it to the side easily. Casey shifted his feet, bouncing on his toes. He feinted one way with his right and then came at him again with a straight jab from his left fist. It connected. Unfortunately catching Donatello directly in his throat. He gasped as pain flashed white and blinding through his throat and head; down into his chest. He careened backwards, stumbling and choking. Waves of electric, throbbing agony pulsed through him. But even as he struggled for breath, his leg shot around in a side kick, forcing the advancing opponent to leap back in retreat. The pain was cast aside, as air once more found its way into his lungs, replaced by a raging thought that repeated itself over and over in his mind.
He let them take her! My April! Oh god! He let them take her!
Casey shuffled quickly back, as Donatello recovered, his side slamming against the table. He spun; running; lumbering around the table, putting some distance between him and the infuriated mutant.
"What the fuck is your problem, Purple?!" Casey shouted at him from around the table.
Donatello's brown eyes were flat and blank with cold fury. Unlike Raphael, whose volcanic rage darkened his features like an oncoming storm and Leonardo's electric fury that made his eyes flash like blue lightning; Donatello's anger ran cold; it was unyielding, frigid and terrible to witness. Inhuman.
"Donnie!" Raphael ran up to him but stopped abruptly at the glare Donatello shot him; freezing him in his tracks.
Okay, Donnie is pissed.
Leonardo appeared next to where Michelangelo climbed to stand on wobbling legs; a trickle of blood seeped from his nose.
"'m okay," he said to Leo.
Splinter stood by speechless and flustered. This was completely out of control. The lair was in chaos. Mikey made to go towards Donatello when Leo grabbed Michelangelo's elbow, with a sharp shake of his head, stopping him from getting too close.
None of them had ever seen Donatello lose his temper to this extent before. There was the occasional blow up when something didn't go right in the lab, or when he'd research something for a long time only to come up with nothing and once in a while when Michelangelo's pranks went too far. But that was usually something that would flare up and disappear just as quickly. Like Michelangelo, Donatello was not one to hold onto his anger. Slow to get upset, but quick to forgive and move on. This was so unlike him, it left his brothers and father standing around like stunned bystanders witnessing a catastrophe.
Donatello stalked a stuttering and cursing Casey like a madman stalking a victim in a horror movie as the man scrambled around the table. Fury and menace and contempt poured off him and filled the small space between them. The air snapping around them from the electric tension. Donatello pointed at him.
"You," he said hoarsely and his strained, gravel-filled voice was nearly as terrible as the cold hatred painted clear on his face, "Your fault." He kicked a chair out of his way and it skittered to the floor on its side.
"Look, I know," Casey said breathlessly as he backed up, retreating backwards into the living room space. His chin was covered in crimson. He turned his head and spit a round gory splat onto the floor, "I fucked up, okay? But it's gonna be okay. We're gonna go get her."
The reasonable tone in his voice set Donatello's teeth on edge. He shook his head in disgust. This was far from okay. This was anything BUT okay. All the frustration; every ounce of hatred he'd stored up against this man in the last few years bubbled up and overflowed inside of him from some deep black cauldron of spite.
It was bad enough that he'd had to compete against this caveman for April's attention and affection, but now this fool caused her to be captured. A chilling thought slammed into him, as he stood there, right now she was probably being tortured. A shudder went through him. All reasonable thought fled from him. A ferocious scream broke from him as he launched himself over the top of the table and tackled Casey a second time. Their bodies flew past Raphael as he lurched to the side out of their path. The other boot flew off Casey's foot as his upper back struck the floor. The top of his head slammed into the back of their couch. The force of the impact slid the sofa forward.
Again, Donatello straddled Casey, pinning him to the floor; this time pounding his face with both fists, ignoring the throbbing pain coming from his right hand and wrist. The bandages soon became spattered in red drops and pieces of it flew in ripped shreds as he swung his fist down again and again. Casey tried to block the blows, but Donatello's frenzied attack did not abate. Blood and foam flew from Casey's mouth and face as he groaned and his body bucked with each impact of Donatello's fists.
Donatello was screaming at him as he pummeled the man; screaming incomprehensible things; broken words and curses; his hoarse voice nearly gone. All around him he dimly realized his father and brothers were shouting and screaming at him. He couldn't focus on the words they were saying. Everything was a numbing blur of rushing blood in his ears and pounding fury in his head. He only knew one thing: someone bad had the sweet, precious, only woman in all the world that he loved with all his being; someone bad was going to hurt her in awful, terrible ways and the stupid, foolish, sorry-excuse-for-a-man responsible for this was in his grasp. He would make him pay for his stupidity.
He paused for a moment to grab Casey by the front of his dirty white t-shirt. He shook him and slammed his head back against the floor. He pulled the man's battered face an inch from his.
He ground out, as the last threads of his frayed voice broke into nothing more than a snarling whisper, "If they touch her, you are dead. I will take you somewhere where I can pull you apart piece by piece and no one, no one, will ever find the remains."
Leonardo felt Splinter's claw push him forward. One quick exchange of looks with his father and Leonardo came up behind Donatello. He quickly slid his hands under his armpits and up and behind his neck, locking his fingers. The muscles in his arms bunched as he pulled a still fighting, struggling Donatello up and back, off the nearly unconscious, moaning man. Donatello kicked Casey in the ribs as he was dragged away.
Raphael raced to Casey's side and ordered Mikey to get over there to help. Master Splinter was there next to them suddenly, with a wet rag and the first aid kit. Donatello writhed and fought but Leonardo held him fast. All the hard training that Leonardo had put himself through the past two years had chiseled an impressive physique full of wiry, lithe strength.
Leonardo's firm voice was in his ear as he struggled to get free from Leonardo's hold, "Enough! Donnie, Donnie! That's enough. That's enough. You're wasting time." Still he bucked and fought against Leo, but his brother held him securely. "Think, Donnie. Think. We won't find her if you knock him out."
At that, Leonardo felt Donatello's body go heavy and limp in his arms. All the fight was gone in an instant. After a moment, Leonardo felt his head bob in acceptance. Slowly, breathing heavy from exertion, Leonardo relaxed his hold and Donatello slid free. Donatello stumbled forward, leaning his hands on top of his knees as he caught his breath and calmed down. He felt shaky and sick as exhaustion washed through him. Desperate fear now filled the hollow space rage carved out within him. Shaking, he looked up and made eye contact with Leonardo. Leo reached over and patted him gently on the shoulder; giving it a little reassuring shake. The look he gave his younger brother said so much; that he understood, that he was sorry, and that he was also a little impressed as well.
Then his eyes turned hard and serious. "We'll find her. We'll save her. I promise."
Nothing in the world felt better than a promise made by Leonardo. The solidity of it; the security of it; the soothing comfort it brought; like a warm blanket and a cup of soup when you were sick. When Leo said something like that you knew everything was going to be okay, that somehow, things would be okay, because he said they would be. He promised. And Leonardo's promises were gold.
Donatello closed his eyes, allowing himself to be assuaged by his brother's words. As he panted, he nodded his gratitude for everything at his older brother. He knew then with certainty that Leo had forgiven him. He didn't really understand why, but he was greatly relieved. Reaching up with a trembling hand, he laid it on top of Leonardo's, still resting on his shoulder. He felt Leonardo squeeze his shoulder. They stayed that way for a moment; eyes locked; brown and blue; fearful, hopeful, understanding and determined.
And I'll help you find Karai, Leo, I swear I won't rest 'til we do.
"What is with tonight?" Mikey asked the room in general as he propped a trembling and dazed Casey up to sitting with one arm draped around his shoulder. "Two normally calm, collected, completely sane brothers goin' nuts in the same night?"
He looked at Splinter as he dabbed a bit of cotton dripping with antiseptic against one cut. He then began to wrap Casey's wound with a bandage.
Mikey swallowed as he glanced around, "Who's gonna be next?"
"Shut it, Mikey," Raphael growled.
Michelangelo raised his eyebrows as if to say, now we know.
A/N: Sorry about the shortness of this chapter. I just really wanted this scene to sort of stand out.