~ New chapter! Yah! Not much thought to go here, but a few comments.
Red Turtle: I don't take your comment as a diss. Just means that I'm getting better at my writing skills, Score! Ahem, yeah :o) I don't know why I picked Don really, just thought that this story would fit him best, besides I haven't written a Don story yet. But Mikey still is and always will be my fav!
Splinter: Thanks for the comment :o) I plan on finishing this out, no worries on that. It's all vaguely planned but the inter-mediate parts come out as I type.
Yvette: I use to watch the Outer Limits, along with X-Files and a few others. Stay tuned in more will come!
Arista: Okay I'm continuing, read on, read on!
Daydream: Careful or Donny will never wake up again :o) It was an injury to the head you know, as for who he really is, well, read on to see what happens ::Evil grin::
Disclaimer: Forgot last chapter, don't own anything turtley no matter how hard I wish it, but everything else in the story is mine :o)
"Dr. he's coming around again." Donatello shook his head at the alien voice then opened his eyes. His breath stilled seeing that he was once again in the hospital bed. When someone touched his arm, he flinched, startled, then saw it was Dr. Weaver.
"How are you feeling Don?" The doctor asked as he reached for his pulse.
"Confused," Donatello said quietly. "I thought this was all a dream." Dr. Weaver smiled but surpressed the urge to laugh.
"No, son this is the real world." Dr. Weaver let go of his wrist and wrote down some notes. "It seems that bump on your head has cause some old hallucinations to come back up."
"What hallucinations," Donatello asked.
"Why the one where you insisted that you were a mutant turtle," Dr. Weaver said. "Hold on a moment I'll show you something." The doctor reached for a notepad that was on the dresser and handed it to Donatello. "You drew pictures, of your turtle self and family once. Take a look." Wary, Donatello lifted the flap. His eyes grew wide as he saw a likeness of himself on the paper. The detail, down to the grouts and edges on the shell was excellent.
"I couldn't have drawn this," Donatello said. "Michelangelo is the one with the drawing talent, not me." Flipping to the next page was his brothers, in the dojo, sparring. Next came April with Casey, then he paused at the next one. Master Splinter's kind face stared back at him, sitting in his favorite arm chair, holding a cup of tea. To this moment, he didn't see, but now he saw the signature. Don Fletcher – I am human. That was the last picture in the book.
"But I'm not this Don Fletcher, I tell you I am Donatello," He insisted.
"Calm down Don," Dr. Weaver held out a hand to steady him. "I want you to get better and go home, but as long as you continue this, you'll have to stay here." Stay. Looking around the room, Donatello felt his skin crawl. Stay where he was constantly observed, where he had no way to contact his family, no he had to leave, but make it believable.
"Some one has brought you flowers," Dr. Weaver pointed as Donatello sat in thought. Looking over, he saw a rose in a vase on the nightstand, a pale yellow.
"My favorite color," Donatello said then stopped. No that wasn't right, purple was his favorite color, or was it?
"Want to read the card?" Donatello took the card and read slowly.
Dearest Don,
I came by to visit you but you were sleeping so I left you our rose, as a reminder. Your mother told me that you were having trouble remembering things so I hope you will remember me. I miss you and can't wait to see you in school.
Your dearest Melissa
"Melissa," Donatello sounded, feeling the name out.
"Know who she is?" The doctor sounded hopeful. Donatello shook his head having no clue. "Well give it time, I'm sure it will come to you." At that moment a voice was heard that Donatello and Dr. Weaver both recognized. Rolling their eyes they said under their breaths, "Mothers."
"Don!" You're awake!" Mrs. Fletcher danced in the door. Donatello had to smile thinking if he didn't know better, he'd swear she had to go to the bathroom. "And I brought someone to see you." Pushing in a girl with light brown hair, Donatello narrowed his eyes, studying her. She stood shyly hands behind her back. Her hair just brushed the tops of her shoulders, curling slightly. A pale pink over sweater was on her making it hard to judge what her body looked like but that wasn't what held him. The look in her eyes, which seemed blue, then green, then gold did. They showed hope and fear and something he'd only seen in April's eyes when Casey was still with her, love.
"Melissa?" Donatello questioned. Her face lit up into a beautiful smile and she rushed over grabbing him in a hug.
"I was so scared for you," She said in a soft voice. "When your mom told me about the amnesia, I thought you'd go and find another girl, but you remembered me, oh Don!" She was nearly crying. Automatically he raised his arms around her and rubbed her back as she took a breath. "But I bet you will say that you forgot about our date, or is that why you got hit in the head so you wouldn't have to take me." Melissa gave him a playful pout, just like Mikey, making Donatello not able to resist a smile at her.
"I have no idea what date you're talking about," Donatello said truthfully with a smile. Maybe this wasn't so bad, then his eyes fell on the drawing book and his heart sank. What was he thinking, he had to get back to Master Splinter and his bothers, they would be worried sick when they found him missing.
"Have him take these, three times a day, it will help with the hallucinations," Donatello heard Dr. Weaver telling Mrs. Fletcher.
"He will recover, right?" Mrs. Fletcher wrung her hands.
"As long as he doesn't get hit on the head any time soon," Dr. Weaver said. "The result could be deadly."
"Everyone at school misses you," Melissa said. Donatello turned to her finding he missed half her conversation. Mr. Iverson wants you back in the choir, Mrs. Jameson, is going crazy in math with out you and…" Donatello spaced off and shook his head.
"I'm sorry is this too much right now?" Melissa stopped instantly concerned.
"I think so," Donatello held a hand to his head which was starting to pound. Dr. Weaver went over slipped some pills into Donatello's hands and watched his swallow them. The pounding subsided a few seconds later and Donatello took a breath.
"I don't know anyone you're talking about," Donatello said. Melissa's mouth only formed a silent o, the looked to Mrs. Fletcher for guidance.
"He's just going to have to take it slow and hopefully his memory will come back to him," Mrs. Fletcher said, gently playing with Donatello's hair. "I'll be back to get you in the morning, Dr. Weaver says if all goes well you can come home."
"But I'd rather go tonight," Donatello said.
"In the morning," Dr. Weaver said firmly. Melissa gave Donatello a kiss on the cheek before following Mrs. Fletcher out. As the doctor left, Donatello started to put together a plan to get to his brothers when he realized something, he had no idea even where he was.
When Donatello woke in the morning he found that he was still in the hospital. Mrs. Fletcher was already there sitting on a chair. She had brought a pair of jeans and a plain white shirt to wear home. Walking around with people was completely new and strange to him. The only thing that kept him from bolting when he got a strange look was Mrs. Fletcher's firm hold on his arm. He was taller than her, by a mere two inches. She led him outside to a two door Toyota, an old year, and started to drive home once they were both buckled.
"Where'd you get this car?" Donatello asked feeling that it needed some work. Mrs. Fletcher gave him and odd look.
"It's your car, honey. You refused to let your father and I buy one for you and insisted on having a job to buy your own." Donatello only frowned and looked out the window. They were driving into a very well provided for neighborhood. The houses were huge, some resembled castles to Donatello. When Mrs. Fletcher pulled into the drive of a three story house, with columns, Donatello held his breath. Must be the wrong house, must be, but his thought was interrupted by a man who opened the door and helped Mrs. Fletcher and then Donatello out.
"Thank you Jasper," Mrs. Fletcher said and walked up to the house.
"Welcome home, young Don," Jasper said smiling at him.
"Yeah, thanks," Donatello said then followed Mrs. Fletcher inside. The entrance was openly spacious, with a grand stairwell that circled as it led to the second and presumable third floor.
"Don go lay in your room if you feel tired," Mrs. Fletchers voice sounded from off to the right. "I'll have Macy bring some soup up to you." Feeling that he could get the soup himself Donatello was about to protest when he saw a maid on the stair.
"Missis, told me you having trouble with your memory," She said. "I am Havela, would you like me to show where you room is if you no remember?" Her accent said that she came from the south, with dark hair and creamy chocolate skin to match. A few strands of gray wove through her hair revealing she wasn't as young as she sounded. Nodding mutely he followed her up then smiled as a thought hit him.
"I thought slavery went out a while ago," Donatello said getting a giggle from Havela.
"Oh Sir," Havela smiled. "You must feel better, you're makin jokes like usual." She led him to a door where Havela paused. "Now you know that I've been working with the family since your da' was three, or maybe you no remember that either." Havela shrugged then opened the door. "Now I'm sure you remember how to bathe yourself?" Havela smiled.
"I think I'll manage," Donatello said softly as he walked in. Posters of astronomy decorated the room, complete with a telescope by the window. The bed was tucked in the left corner, a full size wooden frame to match the dresser and nightstand. AS he walked in deeper there were two more doors to the right. Inside the first one was clothes and shoes, and a box with pictures in it. Taking the box down, Donatello went to investigate the other door, jumping, and dropping the box when he saw someone else in there.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know." His speech wavered as the person mocked his movements. Lifting one hand, the person did the same. Stuck his tongue out the person did the same. "I'm seeing my reflection," Donatello said as he walked up putting a hand on the glass. His hair was black, worn a little long. Blue eyes stared back at him, as he studied each feature. His face was oval framed with the black hair and a straight nose, what some would call Grecian. His mouth was stretched in a grimace as he studied himself.
"Careful, my boy." Donatello spun around at the voice, coming to face with an older version of himself. "You know the tale of Nessius and how he died staring at his reflection. Popular tale back home."
"Where's that?" Donatello asked.
"Greece, where your great grandparents fled bring the family here, to Colorado." The mans nose crinkled as he smiled then turned serious. "You know who I am, do you not?" Donatello shook his head.
"Your father, Ben," He said.
"Oh," Donatello replied.
"Macy has brought up your soup, with the pills Dr. Weaver prescribed. Take one before each meal, three time a day," Mr. Fletcher said. "Well I'm off, just wanted to say hi and that it was good to have you home." Mr. Fletcher ruffled Donatello's hair, where as Donatello managed a small grin for him before he left. Picking up the shoebox, one picture was sticking out. Pulling out the rest of the way, he laughed to himself.
"You would have been helpful earlier," Donatello told the picture. It showed Mrs. Fletcher, Mr. Fletcher and his human self. Finding the soup at a desk next to the telescope, Donatello slowly started to eat, once he took the medicine, as he went through the pictures studying them, and then committing the faces to memory. As long as he was here he would continue the charade, until he could get home to his brothers.
From the window the sunset was glorious, but what Donatello found even more fascinating was when the stars came out. Looking through the telescope he found how to work it and was enjoying looking at the constellations and stars. A yawn escaped and Donatello looked to the bed. He should get rest and tomorrow he could start planning his get away. Climbing in the cool sheets, he tried not to notice how much nicer everything was here than at the lair. Warm food brought to him, a huge room with state of the art equipment, a soft comfortable warm bed. More thoughts followed as he went to sleep.
"Wake up Don," A voice called shaking him a bit.
"Leo a few more minutes," Donatello said, then the hand stilled. His head shot up from the pillow and looked into Mrs. Fletchers worried face.
"Are you seeing them again?"
"Uh, dream, that's all," Donatello said hoping he wouldn't have to go back to the doctors.
"Okay, well get dressed, otherwise you'll be late for school," Mrs. Fletcher said then left the room. School? He's always wanted to go, but now he was starting to feel his stomach trembling at the thought. Going through the getting up and ready routine was no different until Donatello found he almost left the room in a pair of underwear. Grabbing a pair of jeans and a white shirt, he tied on some sneakers then paused as a plaid came into view. Grabbing it he pulled it over the white shirt and looked in the mirror. Liking what he saw, he headed downstairs, only to run back up again when Mrs. Fletcher reminded him of the medicine. Once he swallowed some eggs, and toast, Mrs. Fletcher told Donatello she would drive him to school until he felt well enough to drive on his own. Her car was a luxurious Mercedes, brand new year, from the look. The drive was brief, and all too soon Donatello was deposited at the school with Mrs. Fletcher driving off.
"Canopia High," Donatello read the name. The school was a brick building with rolling grass lawns. Everything seemed sparkling clean, that this was a school for the upper class. With a sigh, Donatello headed in thinking soon, he'll find out.
~ I don't know if I got the name right of Nessius, but I'm being too lazy to look it up right now. Don't know his story? Well he was a guy who all the girls loved and he was snobbish about it (If I remember right) Well one day he saw his reflection and fell in love with it, only to stay and die there by a stream. That's the gist of it, reading the story itself would be better if you're interested :o)