*Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.

*Author's Notes: Here it is! The chapter you've all been so 'patiently' waiting for. XD

I think it probably goes without saying that this chapter is rather emotional.

A GREAT big thank you to all of my readers. I'm extraordinarily grateful to have so many people still reading 'Lost in the Fight' twenty-five chapters in. You have all been so incredibly nice to me. I don't know if I'm worthy of such kindness, but I sure do appreciate it. Far more than I can say . . . 8'}

As always, if you are enjoying this story, please take a moment to favorite/follow/like/reblog/review/comment on 'LITF' to let me know you like it. I would LOVE the feedback. Thanks for reading, everyone. ;) CJ

Okay, onto the chapter . . .

Chapter 25 – Donnie's Decision

"Donnie! No!" Throwing his usual unshakable self-control to the wind, Leonardo practically screamed out the words, struck by a vivid and sickening sense of déjà vu as he stared down at his little brother's motionless chest. It felt as though his jackhammering heart was suddenly stuck in his throat and no air could pass in or out of his lungs.

He couldn't go through this again. He couldn't lose Donnie after everything that had happened. He just couldn't.

His own words from that horrible night that they had nearly lost Donnie began to repeat in his head . . .

Please, don't do this to me, Donnie. Take a breath.

Well, at least Leo had thought that the words had been repeating in his head. It took a few prolonged seconds for him to become dimly aware that he was actually saying them aloud, like a mantra for all to hear. Once he realized that he was just standing there like an idiot, saying the same thing over and over again, rather than helping his lifeless little brother, he mentally slapped himself.

Come on, Leo! Pull yourself together!

But it was kind of hard to pull oneself together when Mikey kept whimpering Donnie's name – just like he had that night on the rooftop.

Raph, on the other hand, just stood there clenching his fists, his silence also eerily reminiscent of that night.

A twinge of dread lanced its way through Leonardo's gut.

It was as if history was repeating itself and they were being forced to relive the whole ghastly nightmare all over again.

Attempting to push the memory of that night into the furthest recesses of his mind, the leader in blue leaned over his unresponsive brother and anxiously checked for a pulse.

Please, don't do this to me, Donnie. Take a breath.

This time, Leo knew the words were inside his head, because he didn't have the breath to speak them.

It was at that moment that Master Splinter entered the laboratory.

Upon hearing his oldest son's distressed voice cry out, Master Splinter had bolted towards the infirmary, where he found his three conscious boys gathered around his unconscious son's cot. It only took but a moment for the father to figure out why there had been such panic in Leonardo's voice. Splinter shook his head in disbelief as he looked at his second youngest child's bloodcurdlingly still and silent body.

"No! My son," Master Splinter gasped out when he saw that his oldest boy had the tips of his fingers pressed up against Donatello's neck. The realization that his comatose son was not breathing had been devastating enough, but seeing Leonardo checking for a pulse was nothing short of horrifying. Though visibly shaken, the distraught father rushed to his wounded son's side to assist in any way possible.

Afraid that he might get in the way, Michelangelo pushed himself down off the cot and took several clumsy steps backwards. His big, blue eyes never left Donnie's stock-still form while his mouth gaped open, as though to cry out in agony, but he didn't make a sound. He could only stare.

Less than a minute had actually passed since his big brother had stopped breathing, but to Mikey, it had seemed like hours. It was as if everything was moving in super slow motion and he was helplessly watching from afar. Even if there was something he could do to help, his legs would've prevented him from doing so. They suddenly refused to move, paralyzed with fear. It was a wonder they were even able to hold him upright.

The whole thing was just too much for Mikey to take.

It was too much for Raph to take, as well. He finally broke his silence and went right into irrational mode.

"No! You can't do this to us, Donnie! You can't just quit like this! I won't let you die on us!" Raph shouted, readying to beat down on Donatello's chest, the same way that his youngest sibling had done to bring their genius brother back to life on that rooftop.

The hotheaded turtle wasn't about to lose his little brother. Not so long as there was breath in his own body. He'd beat the shell out of the Grim Reaper himself if he had to.

No one was taking his brother away.

No one!

As Raphael raised his balled up hands into the air, Leonardo stepped in front of him and grabbed him by the arms just in time to stop his red-clad brother from needlessly smashing his fists down into Donatello's broken plastron.

When Raph violently tried to tear himself away from his older brother, Master Splinter's voice bellowed out.

"Yamete!"

Still, the temperamental turtle attempted to break free. It wasn't that Raphael hadn't understood his father's command or recognized the intensity behind it. He had just chosen to ignore it. If his father wanted to punish him for his disrespectful actions, then so be it, but he wasn't going to just stand there and let his younger brother die.

As Raph continued to struggle in Leonardo's grasp, he felt a pair of paws latch onto his shoulders. The grip was strong, but surprisingly gentle, as was the voice that subsequently followed.

"Raphael, listen. The heart monitor. It is still beeping."

With that said, both Raphael and Michelangelo stared at the green line jumping across the heart monitor screen. The two of them were trying to process what Leonardo and Master Splinter had already figured out.

"He's holding his breath," Leo informed his brothers.

It took a few moments for the two shocked turtles to realize what their oldest brother had said, and longer still to figure out what it had actually meant. When it finally dawned on them that Donnie wasn't about to die, Raph and Mikey eagerly looked back down at their injured brother.

As though he had heard Leo's words and felt all their gazes now upon him, Donnie's chest ever-so slowly began to rise and fall and the familiar sound of his wheezing filled the room once more.

Again, Leonardo was struck with a sense of déjà vu, only this time, it was far, far sweeter.

They all watched as Donatello opened his eyes.

When he finally found the courage he had been searching for, he allowed himself to inhale and exhale again, gulping down air as deeply as he could. There was no mistaking that there was something seriously wrong with his lungs, but he didn't have a clue what could be causing him such discomfort.

All the more reason to open your eyes . . .

Drawing in one more shallow breath, he forced his eyelids apart, but he instantly had to narrow them into a squint to limit the light now filtering in. As to be expected, the overhead lighting was glaringly bright, but it wasn't rendering him completely blind like the last time he remembered waking up. He blinked several times to adjust his vision and the objects surrounding him soon became less and less blurry.

Glancing around the room, he did a quick mental inventory, just as he had done when he had opened his eyes before. This helped him to rationalize things.

Cot . . . bandages . . . heart monitor . . . IV . . . infirmary . . . lab . . . home . . . brothers . . . father . . . family.

FAMILY!

He looked up and saw four teary-eyed figures staring down at him. The sight immediately made his own tears start to well up.

"Hey, Donnie," Leonardo whispered as he held his hand against the side of Donnie's face, lightly stroking his brother's cheek with his thumb. The oldest turtle could feel his genius brother almost imperceptibly leaning into his touch. The tender gesture brought a warm smile to the leader's face. Donnie then pressed his own lips into a faint smile, and soon, his whole family was grinning from ear to ear.

"You gave us quite a scare there, little brother. I'm pretty sure you shaved about ten years off my life." Something about Raphael's tone was noticeably off as he spoke those words. The usual sarcasm was missing, replaced by warmth and an affectionate expression to match. It was making the genius turtle a bit nervous about how extensive his injuries were, but he chose not to ask.

"S – Sorry." Donatello's voice was so hoarse, his family could barely hear it. They weren't sure if this was from his illness or from a lack of usage. Then again, maybe he was just that weak.

"There is no need to apologize, Donatello. You have done nothing wrong." As Master Splinter spoke, he came up beside his second youngest son's shoulder and planted a soft kiss on his forehead. He then straightened back up and petted the top of Donatello's head dotingly. "Though I will admit, you had us all greatly worried, my son. We are so very thankful and happy to see you awake."

"Super-duper happy, bro! I missed you big time, D!" Though Mikey was just itching to wrap Donnie up in a massive hug, he remembered that hadn't gone over so well the last time his big brother had woken up. He decided another game plan would be in everyone's best interests. Donnie's especially.

"I don't wanna hurt you like the last time, so I'm giving you a raincheck for the biggest hug in history. You can use it when you're feeling better, 'kay?" Mikey carefully took Donnie's hand in his, treating his injured brother's hand as though it was a delicate flower he might crush if he squeezed it too hard. The youngest turtle was being so cautious, Donnie could hardly feel his brother's grip.

Smile growing a little wider, Donatello squeezed back. The frailness of his grip made Mikey's heart break, but he put up a brave front for his big brother.

"Oh, Donnie, I love you so much. You have no idea how totally lost I was without you, bro!"

The loving words uttered by his younger brother made tears start to spill from Donatello's half-opened eyes. Without his mask there to soak them up, they rolled down his cheeks like tiny rivers of emotion. Although he hadn't been able to stop his tears from falling, he did manage to stop himself from out-and-out sobbing. Well, for the most part. He couldn't quite stifle all of his sobs and a few of them came out in small, squeaky hitches on account of his congested lungs and throat. Embarrassed by his tears and the goofy high-pitched sounds he had just made, Donnie timidly retreated deeper into his pillows, hoping his family hadn't noticed.

Of course they noticed, genius! They're all staring at you . . .

He closed his eyes for a moment to curse himself, but when he pried them back open, he suddenly didn't feel so self-conscious about his demonstration of weakness. Not when he saw that the rest of his family had tears running down their faces as well. Even his two big brothers, which was something Donnie rarely saw. Then, he watched on through watery eyes as each member of his family leaned down and rested their head on one of the less injured parts of his body and wrapped their arms around one another in the gentlest group hug physically possible.

As his family cuddled up against him, Donnie was just about to lose his composure when his clogged-up chest insisted on sullying the beautiful moment.

Though he tried with all his might to suppress it, Donnie couldn't prevent a coughing fit from escaping his irritated lungs. His face contorted into a grimace as he pulled his hand free from Mikey's so that he could clutch at his aching chest. His family quickly backed away from him, afraid that their hug had triggered the reaction, just like Michelangelo's hug had two days ago.

There was still a significant amount of pain every time that he coughed, but to Donnie's relief, it was much more tolerable than he recalled. Judging by the lightheaded feeling he was experiencing, he had some heavy painkillers to thank for that. This also shed some light on why his brain felt like it had been dunked in tar.

When the coughing fit seemed to be over, Donnie tried to shift his weight in hopes of finding a more comfortable position. His feeble attempt to move instantly sent his family into hysterics.

"No! You need to lie still, Donnie!" Leonardo ordered in a surprisingly firm tone as he pressed his hands down against his genius brother's battered plastron. At the same time, Master Splinter softly held Donatello's head in place while Raph detained his brainy brother's upper legs and Mikey pinned down his uninjured shoulder. Donnie noticed that Leo's grip was the only one that was causing him a tremendous amount of pain, even though he could tell that his oldest brother was trying his best to be gentle.

The wounded turtle grimaced again.

Okay, that hurts way more than it should . . .

Shifting his eyes down to his chest, Donnie noticed the deep bruising all over his upper plastron. He couldn't see how far down the bruising extended, since there was a blanket covering the lower half of his plastron, but what he could see looked horrible.

"Chest . . . hurts."

Donnie's three brothers' faces somehow grew even more wrought with concern as he peered up at them with questioning eyes.

"You've got pneumonia, Donnie. We've been giving you antibiotics to try to knock it down," Leonardo said with a heavy pang of guilt.

When Donnie lifted his gaze up, he noticed that his oldest brother looked about as awful as he felt. The genius turtle couldn't help but wonder when the last time Leo had gotten a decent night's sleep had been. The fact that the leader looked like warmed over death also made Donnie wonder just how long he had been unconscious for.

The sound of Raph's voice cut through the brainiac turtle's thoughts, but only for a fleeting moment.

"Plus, you've got a few broken ribs."

Upon hearing those words, Donnie's stare returned to his plastron and his brow furrowed in contemplation yet again.

While pneumonia explained the thick congestion in his lungs and the painful breathing, it didn't account for the heavy bruising all over his upper plastron.

Then, there was the injury to his ribs. While that certainly could be the explanation for the intense pain and the bruising, the amount of bruising seemed rather excessive for a few broken ribs.

Donnie's mind wandered back to the night of his attack, which sent a shudder up and down his spine. He recalled none too fondly that Grizzgore had punched him in the chest, and then, the mutated grizzly bear had jumped on top of his plastron and sunk his claws into him, but he was still reasonably certain that that didn't account for all the numerous contusions that dotted the scutes of his plastron. There were dozens of them. It looked as if Raph had substituted him for the lair's practice dummy. His chest hadn't looked like that when he had grabbed onto Tiger Claw's weapon.

The memory of that night made Donnie shudder once more.

What? Did they kick me when I was already down?

That's just my luck . . .

Officially out of theories, Donnie peered back up at his brothers with eyes now wide with confusion.

"Wh - what h – happened . . . t – to my p – plastron?" The genius turtle stuttered out in a voice that was getting more and more gravelly and muddy-sounding with each word that he spoke.

"Yeah, about that, bro . . . " Nervously rubbing a hand against the back of his neck, Mikey turned his gaze away from his brainy brother. Donnie noticed that his older brothers did the same. The only one that didn't turn away from him was his father.

Even in his medicated and debilitated state, Donnie could easily tell from his siblings' uneasy reactions that the injury to his chest held some sort of significance. It appeared to be hurting his brothers more mentally than it was him physically.

Something bad had happened.

Something so bad that his brothers couldn't even look him in the eyes anymore.

Donnie glanced down at his chest again, assessing the markings. Then, it dawned on him.

"Cardio . . . pulmonary . . . resusci . . . tation."

That would unquestionably explain the heavy bruising, the broken ribs, as well as the severe pain. The genius turtle mentally criticized himself for not thinking of it sooner, but then, he reminded himself that he was on painkillers . . .

"Say what?" The youngest turtle had a puzzled look on his face as he asked the question.

"CPR, Mikey. CPR . . . stands for . . . cardiopulmonary . . . resuscitation," Donnie reiterated in his hoarse-sounding voice.

Mikey's bottom lip suddenly began to quiver and his eyes pooled with tears as he pressed his shaky hands to his cheeks in excitement, evidently moved by something that Donatello had just said or done.

"Oh, Donnie! You used big, brainy words!"

"Uh . . . yeah." For a few awkward moments, the smartest turtle just stared up at Mikey, blinking in bewilderment over his brother's overly jubilant response. Donnie's thought process was still somewhat hazy and sluggish at this point, but he was gradually able to put the pieces together in his head.

Grabbing onto a souped-up stun gun . . . CPR that resulted in that many bruises . . . Concern about my vocabulary usage . . .

Donnie gazed up at his family with much bigger eyes than just seconds before.

"Exactly h – how long . . . was I n – not breathing?"

With that one question, Mikey broke down into a blubbering mess.

"Oh, Donnie! It was totally awful, bro! You weren't breathing or moving or doing anything, dude! Your lips were all blue, like Leo's mask! We all thought we'd lost you! And then, Leo started giving you CPR for what seemed like forever! He pumped and pumped, and blew air into your mouth – which was totally gross, by the way. But you just laid there! And then, Leo quit 'cause you weren't doing anything and we thought – we thought you were gone! I . . . I've never been so scared in my whole life!" The youngest turtle finally paused to take a much-needed breath. His huge, blue eyes were stricken with dismay over the appalling memory of what it felt like to lose his brother, even if it had only been for a few minutes. They were the worst minutes ever.

While Mikey tried to get his breathing back under control, Raph and Leo exchanged guilty glances.

"And then . . . wh – what?" Donnie inquired with his croaky voice and watched his siblings' reactions. His brain must've been coming around, because he was starting to pick up on small details. For instance, he had noticed that his brothers would cringe and massage the front of their necks every time that he spoke. That was probably because it sounded painful whenever he talked. His brothers were right. It was.

Donnie cleared his throat, but the only purpose that seemed to serve was to cause him even more discomfort. His family once again cringed.

After Mikey was done grabbing his neck in sympathy, he replied to his big brother's question as though the answer was quite obvious. There was definitely a distinct 'duh' tone in the orange-masked turtle's voice as he responded.

"Well, then you started breathing again."

Donnie fought off the inclination to roll his eyes. It seemed like too much effort.

"Not . . . what I m – meant . . . Mikey. I meant . . . what happened . . . after Leo . . . s – stopped CPR?"

A hush fell over the room, as if no one was sure how to answer that question.

The suspense was killing the genius. He knew for a fact that if Leonardo had given up on reviving him, there must have been no trace of hope left. His oldest brother dedicated his life to watching over them and protecting them, so he wouldn't just give up unless he felt there was absolutely no chance of survival.

So . . . why am I still alive?

The youngest turtle once again sheepishly rubbed his hand against the back of his neck.

"Mikey happened," Raph finally interjected, saving his baby brother the trouble.

Donnie's eyes darted from brother to brother to brother while he waited for further clarification.

"Yeah . . . I – uh, kinda, sorta lost it and kept slamming my fists down onto your plastron over and over again until you finally started breathing. That's – um, probably the reason why your chest hurts. 'Cause I – uh – Well, I pretty much went all crazy and beat the shell outta you. Sorry about that, bro," Mikey said remorsefully, tilting his head down in shame.

As soon as Mikey dropped his head down, Donnie reached his hand out and enclosed it around one of his younger brother's. He was about to thank his baby brother when Master Splinter jumped in, hoping to spare Donatello from the exertion of speaking.

"Michelangelo, you saved Donatello's life, and for that, we will all be eternally grateful to you. You have nothing to be sorry for, my son. Nothing at all."

"Yeah, Mikey. Donnie's still here because you never gave up on him. You saved him, Mikey. Thank you," Leonardo piggybacked off the praise that Master Splinter had started. The oldest turtle then reached out and gripped Mikey's shoulder, the way that his father oftentimes did when encouraging them. When Mikey looked up and saw that Leo was smiling proudly at him, it made the youngest turtle's round, freckled face blush.

Internalizing a groan, Raph soundlessly feigned a gag over his older brother's blatant brown-nosing efforts. The hotheaded turtle was toying with the idea of calling Leo a "Splinter Wannabe," but decided against it, assuming that Master Splinter would not find humor in the comment.

While his second oldest brother attempted to contain his feelings, Mikey's came gushing out.

"I never gave up on Donnie because I kept telling myself that he would never give up on me if the shoe were on the other foot. Not that we wear shoes, but you know what I mean, bro."

Wriggling himself free from Leo's hold on his shoulder, Mikey then lowered himself down over Donnie and gave his wounded brother a strange-looking form of a hug. The youngest turtle rested his head on Donnie's abused plastron, just next to where his brother's arm was taped down. After that, Mikey placed one hand on Donnie's good shoulder and his other hand on his wounded brother's opposite side and squeezed as softly as he could.

As gentle as his baby brother was trying to be, Donnie still felt some discomfort from the hold around him, but he didn't mind so much. It was worth the pain.

"Yeah . . . I know . . . . what y – you mean . . . Mikey," Donnie rasped out while he patted his little brother on the carapace. This caused Mikey to unknowingly start to tighten his grip on his brainy brother, but a small moan from Donnie told him that he was squeezing too hard. The turtle in orange then abruptly broke off the embrace before he accidentally hurt his big brother again.

"Sorry, bro. I guess I don't know my own strength."

"I know. B – Believe me . . . I know." To further emphasize his point, Donnie rubbed his sore plastron.

Mikey bit his lower lip guiltily, but his genius brother was quick to try to cheer him.

"It's okay . . . Mikey. Y – Your . . . r – rather . . . unorthodox . . . methods . . . s – saved . . . m – my . . . life. Thank you." The expression of gratitude was immediately followed by a warmhearted smile which made the youngest brother giggle happily.

Unfortunately, the smile on Donnie's face soon altered into an expression of anguish as another wave of pain swept through him. He unintentionally let a small whimper sneak out, which made his family's faces turn down into frowns yet again.

Master Splinter had noticed that Donatello's eyes were starting to droop, as though it was an immense struggle just to keep them open. Splinter had also heard the difficulty in his second youngest son's breathing and speaking. Donatello's words were getting further and further apart and he was stammering over them. Now that the worried father saw the pained expression on his son's face, he realized that the joyful reunion would have to be cut short for his wounded child's sake.

"My sons, we must let Donatello sleep now. Your brother is very weak and he requires additional rest," Master Splinter said in a no-nonsense tone, knowing that his words would not be well-received by his children. He was well aware that they would not want the moment to end. Neither did he, but he could not put Donatello's health at risk over their own selfish needs.

A collective "ahhh" sounded out, including Donatello's brittle voice. It reminded Master Splinter of when the boys were much younger and they would complain about being forced to do chores or having to go to bed 'too early.'

"D – Don't w – want . . . to s – sleep," Donatello breathed out.

It was so sweet, Master Splinter nearly changed his mind, but he reassured himself that it was for his son's own good.

"Donatello, you need your rest." A hint of strictness came through in Master Splinter's tone. Just enough to show that he was not going to budge on the matter. In an effort to console his injured son, Splinter stroked Donatello's forehead and smiled dotingly.

Having heard the uncompromising tone in his father's words, Donatello gave a slight nod of acceptance and subsequently sunk deeper into his pillows. The genius turtle knew better than to argue with that tone. Besides, his father had been right. He did need rest. He was completely worn out and it was taking every last bit of energy he had left just to stay awake.

Flashing his family a wisp of a smile, Donnie then closed his eyes and wheezed out a sigh, already feeling sleep coming on.

"But Donnie just woke up," Mikey whined as he watched his injured brother almost instantaneously fall into a deep slumber. It was like someone had flipped a power switch on Donnie to the off position. The youngest turtle didn't want his brother to shut down yet. Not so soon. Mikey was afraid that if he let Donnie fall asleep now, he might not get to see him for several more days. Maybe longer . . . The turtle in orange was sure he couldn't handle that again.

Sensing his youngest child's apprehension, Master Splinter spoke in his most soothing voice.

"And he will wake up again, but right now, you can plainly see that your brother is exhausted, Michelangelo. Donatello is not to be disturbed for the remainder of the day. I know you all want stay with your brother, but it is very important that we not push Donatello too hard. He is not well and he needs his rest. We must not overwhelm him until he is stronger." Before he even finished his last sentence, Master Splinter was already shooing the three concerned brothers away from their now sleeping sibling.

None of them wanted to leave, so they just backed away a couple of feet and stopped.

Patience starting to wear thin, Master Splinter cast a disapproving glance at his sons that made them all flinch, but still, they stood their ground.

"But it's my watch, Sensei."

"Yes, what you speak is true, Leonardo." Splinter tugged at his beard in thoughtful deliberation for a few seconds. Then, his eyebrows flicked up sardonically. "But I believe you have picked up enough extra shifts as of late. I will watch over Donatello. You three are not to come in here until you have been given my permission. Have I made myself clear?"

Realizing that their father wasn't about to back down, the three sons bowed their heads in reluctant submission and simultaneously grumbled "Hai, Sensei" before leaving the lab.

Once his three healthy sons were gone, Master Splinter fondly gazed down at Donatello.

His beloved son had come back to them, but the battle was not yet won.

The physical recovery that lay ahead would be very extensive and extremely hard on Donatello, but Master Splinter feared that his young son's emotional recovery would prove to be even more of a difficult challenge. Mending Donatello's broken spirit would be no easy task.

To be continued . . .

*Author's Notes: He's awake! Finally! Is anyone else as excited about this as I am? Because I'm super-duper excited! *fist pump* I missed Donnie so much, I was suffering withdrawals. I couldn't wait to get to this chapter so I would be able to write 'Donnie sass' again. *squeals with delight* =D

Just a heads up . . . The next chapter is a long one, so I may not be able to get my editing done by next week. I might have to break the chapter into two parts, since it's currently nineteen pages.

Speaking of future chapters, I've recently had several readers express concern that there are only a couple more chapters left in this story, and now that Donnie is awake, I should probably address that. Yes, there are a couple of chapters left . . . and then, a couple more after that, and a couple more after that. XD Actually, there are still over a dozen chapters left. The story is about two-thirds of the way done at this point. In other words, there's a whole lot of angst, feels, brotherly fluff and posttraumatic stress to come. Plus, the story will have a bit more humor mixed in now that Donnie's conscious. Hopefully, that's the answer everyone was waiting for. And if you were hoping that the story was nearing the end, well . . . uh, sorry? C:

Once again, please favorite, follow, like, reblog, review, and/or comment on this story if you are enjoying it. I would really, really love to know. Your responses make me happy. Thank you very much for reading and have a great day! ;) CJ