Chapter 36 –Revelation-
~~~

A vibrating pulse thrummed through the room, the machinery beating with a pulse as if it were a living thing. Individual heartbeats blended, drowned in the overbearing hum, muted in the biological suspension fluid housed in the containers stacked around the room.

The heartbeats were slow and steady, unaware of their surroundings, suspended in the fluid. One heartbeat was fluttering, out of time with the rhythm of the room, pounding wildly as if it would leap from the owner's chest. The turtle struggled violently against the restraints holding him, to the grim amusement of the man standing over the table.

"You are wasting valuable energy, Michelangelo," Bishop intoned, leaning closer. He smiled into the wide blue eyes staring up at him with a mix of unbridled fury and terror. If the turtle would've spoken, Bishop didn't know, because his voice was muffled behind a mask, not a small one like a hospital would use, but a cupped, solid plastic thing firmly strapped over the mutant's face. At the moment it was administering oxygen.

The man motioned to one of the white-coated men standing at the controls. The oxygen mixed with a sedative. The turtle, realizing what was happening, struggled against the air being forced into his lungs, fought to keep his eyes open even as the tranquilizer took effect, but it was no use.

Bishop watched as his last vestiges of consciousness slipped away, his limbs twitching in the restraints before going limp. He smiled down at his helpless subject for a moment before motioning to the guards who came forward. They removed the straps holding the turtle down and lifted him to a platform.

Bishop himself pushed a button, lowering the platform into a glass tube. Slowly, the green fluid's level rose, encasing the turtle, suspending him in a liquid prison.

"Rest well, my friend," whispered the man. He gazed at the turtle with satisfaction before turning away. "You'll need all your strength when we release you again for further testing. For now, I must go and have a… talk, with your brother."

***

Hamato Donatello squirmed against the metal rings binding his limbs to the table, mentally reciting the worst curses he knew. The silent rant did nothing to improve his outlook. He was, once again, in Bishop's lab. His brothers were absent, two safely far away at the farmhouse, but the third… The third was here, somewhere. The thought of his youngest brother in danger was more frightening to the genius turtle than the knowledge of his own dubious future.

You'll never escape, Turtle. And now I have your brothers as well…
Michelangelo appeared before him, hanging lifeless at the end of a rope, the noose tight around his neck. He was limp, dangling. The blue eyes were clouded over, staring into eternity.

Donatello gave himself a mental shake. The fever-dream had been so vivid and sometimes it returned to him, even now, in his nightmares.

Jack is in jail. He can't touch us. Can't touch Mikey. But Bishop...

So far, Bishop hadn't done anything more diabolical than restrain him and take a blood sample. Donatello had expected far worse from the insane man, especially considering his current position, strapped to a vivisection table. He was waiting for the scalpels and saws to be brought out. Bishop hadn't even come to gloat. Donatello was growing increasingly afraid. Not for himself, but for Michelangelo. Whatever Bishop was doing, Don knew it couldn't be good.

I'm sorry, Bev, thought Don, for the hundredth time. We tried. Splinter… Father… I just hope LH got you out ok. At least Bishop doesn't have you. And LH, I hope you got out, too, that you didn't stop or turn back to fight… but you wouldn't. You got Splinter out. I know you did. Nothing less would be bearable.

Donatello's thoughts were interrupted by a man who strode into the room, his sunglasses glinting eerily in the light. John Bishop walked toward the table. Donatello forced himself to keep his eyes on the man, though his heart rate sped up and he could hear his pulse pounding in his ears so clearly, he was certain Bishop could hear it too.

"Greetings, Donatello," said the man, smiling as if he were offering salutations to an old friend. "How kind of you to join us."

"What've you done with Mikey, Bishop?" snarled Donatello, his usually calm voice harsh with fury.

"Oh, don't worry." Bishop showed teeth. "He's… indisposed for the moment, but he'll come to no harm. Yet."

"You… you stuck him in one of those tubes, didn't you?" Donatello could see by the twitch of the man's mouth that he'd guessed correctly. "You scumbag! Get my brother out of there!" He struggled against the restraints again, knowing already it was no use. The steel bands were more than a match for his strength.

Bishop smiled. "You're wasting your time," he said calmly. "After the crocodilian escaped, I had new tables designed. You're not going anywhere, Donatello. Not until I see fit to release you."

"And why would you do that?" snapped Don, glaring at him. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck, pooling in the hollow where his shell and skin met in a cold little puddle. Another voice was pressing at the edges of his memory.

Answer the questions and I'll let you go…

"It's really too bad that such a mind is wasted," mused Bishop, distracting Don. "You may be a mutant," he spat the word as if it tasted bad. "But you are, undeniably, brilliant."

Donatello waited, watching the man with burning brown eyes.

"You did, after all," continued Bishop, ignoring the turtle's fury, "Get past my security, hack into a highly classified computer system, and almost manage to, once again, remove a valuable specimen from my facility." His voice rose with anger. Donatello stared at the man, his own fury burning white-hot. He used the anger as a shield, keeping the fear that clawed at the back of his mind at bay.

"However," Bishop continued, visibly containing himself. "I find myself in a rather… unusual position. I could, of course, dissect you and your brother, gleaning some limited scientific insight from your unusual physical makeup."

Donatello didn't so much as twitch. He wouldn't give the man the satisfaction of seeing the tremor the word dissect sent down his spine. He put every ounce of his energy into keeping a passive expression and an unmoving gaze.

I bet they've got your dissection table all picked out. I bet they have it all set up for when you get back. Straps, lights, scalpels… Yeah, I bet they've got plans for you. Big plans… Jack Koban's voice echoed in Don's memory and he had to work at controlling the tremors that threatened to shake his limbs.

I am a ninja. I will not show fear.

"However." Bishop stood up straight, turning slightly away from Donatello, as if he were merely discussing the chances of a sports team in an upcoming match up. "I have an… alternative proposition you may wish to consider."

"What do you want, Bishop?" ground out Donatello.

Bishop turned, his eyebrows rising. He removed his sunglasses, leaning closer to smile into Donatello's eyes.

"I want you, Donatello," said the man quietly. When Don gave him a confused look, he smiled again. "I want your knowledge. We have a genetics division which could use your unique experience…"

The laughter burst from Donatello before he could stop it.

Bishop's eyes widened with shock and fury as the turtle continued to laugh until he could barely get a breath.

"You… you want me to… to come… and work for you?" Donatello gasped out.

Bishop stood up with fury written in every line of his posture and the scowl etched deep into his face.

"You will, of course, need to consider what I'm offering you," growled the man. "And the… alternatives."

Donatello's laughter stopped just as suddenly as it began.

"I don't need to consider anything, Bishop," said the turtle with infuriating calm. "The answer is no."

"I think you'll change your mind, turtle," snapped Bishop. "Especially if you value your precious family."

Donatello kept his gaze steady with an effort. I'm sorry Mike, Beverly, he thought.

"No way, Bishop," he snapped.

"We'll see, Donatello," said the man, walking out of the room. "We'll see."

Donatello laid his head back against the table. Shell, he thought. I'd almost rather be back in that barn, facing Jack. Almost.

***

In another part of the building, Beverly paced across a small white room. She paused long enough to kick the wall, before stalking back to the bed. With a heavy sigh, she sank down onto the thin mattress.

How long had it been? At least two days. It wasn't easy to keep track of time, with the lights constantly on and meals that came seemingly regular intervals. There was never a long stretch of time when she was left completely alone, to indicate night time.

Not that Beverly could've slept. She was on edge… waiting. Waiting for a rescue, or for Bishop to decide she was no longer of any use to him. Which would come first, she didn't know. All she knew was if she didn't get out of this room soon, she would surely go completely out of her mind.

A sound warned her before the door swung open and Bishop himself strode into the room. Beverly was on her feet in an instant, taking a defensive crouch. She was prepared to give the scientists who usually accompanied the man a fight, but to her surprise, this time John Bishop was alone.

"Relax, Mrs. Hamato," said the man, smirking.

Beverly edged back, away from him, watching him warily.

What's he grinning about? she wondered, but didn't speak the thought aloud. If he wanted to tell her, he would. Otherwise, he would count it a victory to keep the tidbit of information from his prisoner.

"I have just been visiting with your… brother-in-law," said Bishop, watching with a smile as the woman's eyes widened.

Beverly straightened, glaring at him, but didn't speak. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her react.

"We had a most interesting conversation," the man said, chuckling. "At first he denied knowing you at all. Can you imagine?"

He was protecting me, she thought. I wonder who it is? Probably Leo. Is he ok? Oh, Donny… I hope you're not here. I don't want your brothers getting hurt, either, but I couldn't bear it if this monster got his hands on you.

"Yes…" Bishop turned on his heel, stalking away a few paces to admire himself in the one-way glass. Beverly saw his smirk in the reflection. "He was quite adamant. Of course, in the end, when he realized we already had the information, he admitted the relationship. Then he tried to claim he was your husband. It was… most amusing." The man chuckled again.

Good for him. Keep up the misdirection. Let Bishop believe he's got the right girl. "What did you do with him, you scumbag?" hissed Bev, unable to stomach the man's twisted amusement a moment longer.

"Oh, don't worry," said Bishop, turning from the window. "He's quite safe."

"If you've so much as put a scratch in his shell," she growled.

Bishop laughed out loud, holding up his hand.

"Don't worry," he said. "Michelangelo is fine, I assure you."

"Mikey?"

Bev felt as if she'd been punched in the gut. She'd expected Leonardo to come… the strong leader of the clan. Not Mikey… not dear, sweet Mikey who whooped over video games, who was about to become a dad, the first of his clan to have a chance at fatherhood, who still suffered occasional nightmares from his last visit to this place, his last encounter with this man.

"Let him go." She hissed the words, her eyes narrowing and her fists clenching in fury. In another instant she would've launched herself at the man, but his next words sent a cold lump of ice settling into the bottom of her stomach.

"I've also been talking to Donatello."

"D… Don?" Beverly felt as though all the air had been sucked from the room. She swayed, feeling sick.

"Yes. You see, Splinter and another freak of nature, that alligator which escaped me a few years ago, broke in here." For the first time, there was a flash of anger in the man's eyes. "The rat and the other one escaped, but they left the turtles behind."

"Splinter?" Beverly sank down on the edge of the bed. She hated herself for allowing weakness to show, but her knees would no longer hold her up.

He's lying. He's got to be. Splinter would never leave his sons behind. Where's Leo? Why didn't he come? He's lying. He's got to be. Something's not right.

"Yes. The rat won't live long. One of my men reported he'd been hit. The crocodile carried him off. Probably to make a quick meal of him in the tunnels."

Bishop smirked. "The scent of blood sends it into a frenzy, you know. It killed twelve men before it made off with the rat. Two more won't survive the night, I'm told. The injuries were... gruesome. It pretends to be human, to be civilized. It's certainly intelligent. But it is, after all, just an animal."

Beverly shot to her feet. "LeatherHead is more civilized than you, Bishop. He's my friend. He's gentle and kind and he is not an animal!" Her fist connected with the man's chin, knocking him back a step. She felt something crack in her arm, but she didn't care. She followed with a quick left jab to his gut and tried to follow through with a sweep, but Bishop recovered and blocked the blow and the kick.

He held her wrist in an iron grip, smiling into her eyes. "Animals," he hissed again. "Like the thing you carry in your womb."

"I'm not pregnant, you idiot," she shouted, wrenching her arm out of his grasp. "I'm not. You…" She glared at him, reckless in her grief and anger. "You got the wrong girl."

Something like humor flickered in Bishop's eyes and a slow smile crossed his features.

"You… you don't even know, do you?" he asked. He shook his head. "Incredible. Didn't he tell you? What, did the clinic… No… they couldn't have… Hmm."

"What are you talking about?" she growled.

"My dear girl." Bishop leaned toward her and Beverly took an instinctive step back. "There has been no mistake. You are carrying the mutant's spawn."

Her eyes narrowed, glaring at him. "You're crazy."

"I assure you, I am many things, but that is one accusation which is unfounded."

"I am not pregnant." Beverly said the words again, fighting down the flicker of hope that couldn't help but flutter in her chest. Donny and I, with a baby?

"Oh, but my dear," said Bishop with a small, cold smile. "We've run extensive tests with some very accurate equipment. You are."