He was awake before the alarm, messing with a half forgotten project in his lab. More often than not, this is where he was normally found. When he wasn't training or on a mission, the lab was almost always a dead on guess to his whereabouts.
He pulled out his weapon- a speared bostaff fit with added mechanical devices by his own hand- and twirled it between his fingers with ease.
"Are you not in here enough?" A voice asked.
He knew without looking who it was.
"I'm just messing around, Karai." He replied, and then turned to face the young woman.
He gave a respectful bow, which was quickly reciprocated, then turned back to his target.
"You're always in here.." Karai muttered and stepped between him and the punching bag. "My father wants to see you."
He nodded and put the plans he had been working on back on the table.
They walked in silence with Karai leading the way.
The ninjas around them gave respectful bows as they passed but neither him nor Karai bowed back, too intent on not keeping Saki waiting any longer.
Karai opened the doors to what Donatello has always thought of as the 'torture room'. Every punishment was carried out in this room. Be it for disobedience, refusal to follow orders, disciplinary issues, talking back, making snarky combacks, not getting a project finished on time...
The list went on and on. Since he was young, since before he could remember, this room represented the worst fates a ninja could bring upon themselves.
Donatello didn't want to know what he had done to get him brought to this room now or what awaited him.
But he forced himself forward, to follow Karai deeper into the room where Saki was standing with his elite guard.
"Master Saki." Donatello said, bowing his head low like he was taught.
Beside him, Karai did the same.
"Donatello, Karai." Saki rumbled, the very tone making Donatello's skin crawl.
Donatello didn't look up, didn't dare break his stance for fear of what he knew would happen.
He had broken his stance twice in his short sixteen years of life, and remembered both times vividly. His shell still sported the marks from those punishments.
One was from exhaustion, he had slumped and broken his stance by accident. The other was from phantom shocks from a punishment he had received the day before for failure to follow ordered. He had suffered through the phantom pains throughout the day, twitching and shaking, and when he had to bow, his body had fought against it.
After that day, he made sure that he kept any signs of pain or fatigue from his expressions and posture.
"Stand."
Donatello bit back the sigh of relief that wanted to escape him as he straightened, clasping his hands behind his back. Beside him, Karai stood at attention as well.
"Our shipments have been attacked recently." Saki said, obviously speaking to Karai and Donatello, but didn't face them. He instead stared out at the large window that looked out at the skies.
"You two will ensure that this shipment tonight will continue as planned." Saki continued. "You will make sure that these criminals do not interfere. Do I make myself clear?"
"Hai, father." Karai agreed with a bow of her head.
"Hai, Master Saki." Donatello agreed, bowing his head as well.
"When do we leave, Father?" Karai asked cautiously.
"Now."
"Hai."
"Hai."
The underground sewer system that they used for a home was eerily quiet. Which was odd for this hour, and did nothing to sooth the old rat's nerves.
Knowing that whenever his three children were quiet that there was chaos abounding, the old ninjitsu master rose quietly to his paws and opened his door.
He saw no evidence of his children in the kitchen or living area.
Hamato Yoshi closed his eyes and listened for a moment.
After a moment, he heard his tempermental son exclaim,
"We need to go after that shipment tonight, Leo." Raphael growled, trying to keep his voice low. "It's supposed to have the most cargo. We hit that and they'll be screwed!"
"Sensei has forbidden it and you know it, Raph." Came his oldest son's reply. His voice was considerably quieter. "He says we still need rest from last night, and he's right."
"We'll be fine, bro!" His youngest son's voice rang out, much louder than his two older siblings' voices. "We're us!"
"Shut it, Mikey!" Raphael hissed. "Are you really telling me that you don't want to go after that convoy, Leo?"
Splinter made his way to his oldest son's room where the voices were loudest and stopped outside the closed door, listening intently.
"Of course I do, Raph!" His oldest son's voice was tinted with fustration. "But we have to honor Sensei's wishes."
"Fine, then!" Raphael growled. "I'll do it myself!"
Splinter watched as Leonardo's door swung open, revealing his second oldest son's scowling face that quickly turned to surprise. Behind him, his oldest son had his arms crossed over his plastron with a disapproving frown on his face. Michelangelo was staring at his father with surprise, his mouth opened in a wide 'O' as his eyes bounced between his two older brothers.
"Raphael, Leonardo, Michelangelo," Splinter said quietly. "You disagree with my decision?"
There was no bias in their Sensei's voice, and if they didn't know any better, the three mutant turtles would have thought that he didn't care. But they knew better than that.
"Well, Sensei, uh, it's just that-" Raphael began but his older brother came to his rescue.
"Sensei, it's just that if we don't hit this convoy tonight, they could get all that mutagen to another country and we'll never be able to track it again." Leonardo said. "Who knows what they could do with all that mutagen? We have to stop them, Sensei."
"Yeah!" Michelangelo said enthusiastically, eyes widening in excitement.
Splinter thought it over for a moment, watching his sons as they stared back at him with eager eyes.
"You may go." Splinter said. "On the condition that you are careful. You three have been too arrogent as of late."
"Hai, Sensei." All three turtles said obediently.
Splinter watched, worry growing in the pit of his stomach as he watched his three sons run out of the lair.
He didn't know what he would do if he lost another son.
The thought alone made the old rat's heart throb with the pain.
Eleven years and still he remembers the day so very vividly, like it was mere hours ago.
Return soon my sons, Hamato Yoshi prayed silently.
Donatello slid his arms into the sleeves of his dark tinted jacket. The sleeves fit just to the end of his three fingers, effectively hiding them. The jacket reached to just below his knees, hiding most of his green skin so he could better blend in with the darkness of night.
Karai waited for him on the alleyway, standing guard by the van. A dozen Foot soldiers stood at attention with her, weapons at the ready.
Donatello didn't know who was attacking these convoys, but whoever it was, the Foot were going overboard to stop them.
It was almost funny.
Donatello stood up on the rooftop he had been perching on to keep lookout and jumped down to the ally to join them. The Foot soldiers jumped but made no move toward him.
Karai turned toward him with an almost bored expression.
"Nothing out of place." Donatello informed her. "We should be good to go."
"Good." Karai said with a nod. "Donatello, you're in the van."
Donatello jumped in the van quickly, eyes glancing over the large tarp in the middle of the floor.
Karai ordered four Foot soldiers into the van with him.
"This shipment must get to the docs, do you all understand?" Karai demanded. "Or it will be all of our heads."
"Where will you be?" Donatello asked.
"At the docs, waiting for your arrival in case they try to attack the boat." Karai informed him, then gave the order to take off.
The doors to the van slammed shut, the only light being from door that seperated the front of the van from the end of it. There were no seats so he stood beside the tarp, tempted to look under it to see what was so important, but resisted the childish act.
The van moved at impossible speeds for a vehicle so large- if he had to guess, he would say near eighty miles an hour- but they hardly felt the movement.
So it came as a slight jolt to reality when the van gave a sudden, violent shake, nearly knocking them all to the floor.
They're coming, Donatello thought just before the van doors were kicked in, knocking the doors into two Foot soldiers.
"Everyone in position?" Leonardo asked.
"Yes, for the hundredth time, we are in position." Raph snapped. "Mikey and me are waiting at the docs. There's a ton of Foot here. Not even trying to hide, Leo. They definitely increased their numbers too."
"Be careful. Remember, if the convoy gives Casey and I the slip, you guys have to hold it off until we can catch up. Got it?" Leo asked.
"Yes, Fearless, we got it already." Raph groaned. "You just leave us a few bodies to drop."
"Be careful." Leo ordered, ignoring the jab.
"Will do, Fearless." Raph grunted and hung up.
Leo tucked away the small, cracked phone that April had bought him and turned to Casey.
"Ready?" Leo asked.
The man snorted, pulling his hockey mask over his face and pulling out his hockey stick.
"You bet I'm ready." Casey replied, holding his weapon tightly.
"Let's go, I'd rather not loose the convoy." Leo said, and began to sprint across the rooftop they had been standing on.
Casey kept up with him easily as they sprinted across the rooftops. The convoy came into view in what felt like moments.
One motorcycle led a large black van through the quiet of Purple Dragon territory with another motercycle following close behind.
Were they working with the Purple Dragons?
"Are we hitting it here or waiting for them at the docs?" Casey asked without stopping.
"Hitting it here, there's less Foot presence than at the docs. We don't want to take the risk." Leo said. "On my go."
Leo took a deep breath.
"Go!"
They both took a running start and jumped from the roof, landing on the van with a resounding,
Thud!
"You handle the bikes, I'll handle whoever's inside." Leo instructed.
Leo didn't wait to see if his orders were followed, instead he took a reassuring breath and swung himself over the side of the van, planting his feet firmly and forcefully into the backdoors of the van.
They gave way under his weight and came off their hinges, flying into two Foot soldiers who were unlucky enough to be in their line of flight.
Leo took in the sight before him.
Two foot soldiers stood between him and the covered tarp, weapons drawn.
Leo was slightly taken aback.
Two soldiers? No, four if he counted the two that got taken out by the doors.
Four soldiers? Plus the two on the bikes and whoever was driving the van.
It was almost insulting.
Leo had taken the van because he had assumed there would be more Foot soldiers in it, but it looked like Casey was going to have more on his plate than he would. It was boring, really.
Did the Foot really think that this was enough to stop him?
Maybe they thought they would be attacked at the docs instead of the convoy, and that's why there's so little presence here.
Leo took out his katanas, twirling them threateningly. The soldiers didn't take the hint and charged.
A flick of his wrist brought his katana down on one soldier's shoulder, lodging itself in the bone.
Leo used the soldier like a bowling ball, swinging him into the incoming Foot soldier and yanking his katana out as the two soldiers crumbled to the floor.
Well, that was easy, Leo thought as his eyes once again caught sight of the tarp.
Leo made his way to the tarp, pinching the rough fabric between his fingers and pulling it up to take a look at it.
A dozen canisters of mutagen stared back at him, glowing brightly in the dark.
Leo pulled out his phone and dialed Casey's number.
"Hey, I have eyes on the mutagen." Leo said. "Twelve canisters."
"I got the two on the bikes out," Casey replied as Leo heard a thud on top of the roof. "I'm about to take out the driver now."
"Good." Leo replied. "I'll contact the guys, tell them- what the!-"
Leo didn't have time to continue his question as something hard slammed into him, knocking him on his shell several feet back.
Vaguely, Leo heard someone shouting from the phone he had dropped, mingled with the shouting of another voice a few feet from him.
"Do not stop this truck!" The voice was cold and authoritative. "Whatever you do, do not stop this truck or it will be our heads!"
"But- but the-"
"I'll take care of it!" The voice shouted back. "I'll take care of it. That's what I'm here for."
Leo forced his heavy eyes open in time to see Casey swing into the van, stopping just in front of him, holding his hockey stick readily in his hands.
"Get away from him, you-" but Casey's demand stopped cold as he stared at the figure in front of him.
Leo's own eyes widened as he took in the impossible sight before him.
What he had assumed was a Foot soldier was in fact a giant mutated turtle, much like himself but dramatically different at the same time. He wore a black trench coat with the foot's logo imprinted on the front that went just past his knees. He held a speared staff in his hands and a scowl on his face.
Leo gripped his katanas in his hands and slowly stood, holding his weapons at the ready.
The mutant, who really couldn't be any older than he was, held his staff in both hands, eyes narrowed at them as if to dare them to make the first move.
They stood like that, taking each other in.
Donatello stared at the mutant in front of him. Blue bandana wrapped around his eyes that made him seem dangerous, katanas gripped in his hands, a confused but ready expression on his face.
The human wore his shock on his face, wide eyes flickering between him and the blue masked turtle.
Donatello had long mastered the act of hiding one's emotions, and put that skill to work now as he glared at the two attackers.
The man ran at him first, swinging his 'weapon' with enough force that if it had a blade, it would have surely taken Donatello's head off. As it was, the slim weapon swung against Donatello's head hard enough to make his ears ring, whie he used his staff to fend off an attack by two katanas aimed for him at the same time.
Donatello used his leg to sweep the human's legs out from behind and kicked the turtle in the chest just hard enough to get some distance between them before bringing the bladed end of his staff at the turtle.
The blue banded turtle managed to jump aside in time to avoid a fatal hit, but not fast enough to avoid the blade all together.
The blade came down on his shoulder, causing the turtle to hiss in pain and roll away from his attacker.
Donatello was about to swing the staff again when he was forced to roll out of the way of the human man that was barreling toward him, sticking his foot out to trip the oversized hockey player.
The blue banded turtle grabbed the human's arm before he could completely fall on his face and heaved him up, grunting with the pain of using his now injured arm.
They both stood away from him, chests heaving with much needed air.
Donatello was attempting to get his breathing under control as well but trying not to show this to his enemies. The last thing he needed to do was show his enemies any weakness.
Donatello positioned himself between the driver and the attackers, ensuring that they would have to go through him first.
"How far are we from the docs?" Donatello growled, raising his staff as the other turtle took a step forward.
"We're-"
But the driver never got to finish his reply as the van came to an abrupt, violent crash that sent all three of them out of the van through the vacant doors.
Donatello shook off the pounding in his head as he reached for his staff, only to find a green foot stomp down on his outstretched hand.
Donatello didn't bother to look up before reaching into the pocket of his jacket and pulling out a smoke bomb- a product of his own design- and slammed the small bundle of powder onto the ground.
Smoke, hot and suffocating, immediately billowed around them for several feet, making it impossible to see beyond a couple inches in front of your face. The smoke nearly choked Donatello, but he had the sense to hold his breath and close his eyes, rolling out of the smoke until the air felt cool around them once again.
He opened his teary eyes in time to see a shell turned to him, still trapped in the smoke, doubled over coughing.
Donatello wasted no time in snatching his staff from the ground and barreling into the other turtle like a football player.
Leonardo was caught completely by surprise as he felt himself being shoved several feet away, his face being pushed into the ground.
His eyes stung with tears from the smoke and he was finding it hard to breathe correctly as his lungs attempted to release whatever he had inhaled.
Being shoved to the ground certainly wasn't helping the leader in blue regain his air supply.
"Get off em!" Leo heard his tempermental brother yell before the weight on top of him disappeared.
Donatello couldn't move out of the way quick enough before he was shoved away from the turtle in blue.
He landed on his carpace for only a second before jumping up again to face his attacker.
Another turtle, this one sporting a red mask and sies, stood in front of the blue banded turtle protectively, the muscles bulging in his arms like a weightlifter.
His eyes were narrowed in both hate and confusion as they took in his new threat, unsure of what to make of this new surprise.
If there was one thing Raphael hated, it was surprises. And definitely one as confusing as this.
They were the only turtles in New York, Raph knew that. And yet, he was standing there staring at evidence that contradicted him.
Another turtle.
Well, that's just great, Raph thought. He caught sight of the Foot symbol on the turtle's long jacket. A turtle working for Shredhead. Even better.
The turtle glared back at him, breaking the stare just long enough to glance to the side where the boat was waiting.
"Get the cargo on the boat!" He yelled. "Now!"
Raph charged, holding his sies at the ready as the turtle jumped over him, kicking him in the shell from behind.
Raph stumbled, loosing his balance at the unexpected maneuver, and toppled into a row of crates that had been left there.
I guess the old 'bigger they are, harder they fall' thing is true, Donatello thought with a smirk.
He barely had time to finish the thought before something hard and powerful was coming at him from seemingly every direction, forcing Donatello to duck away from whatever weapon was attacking him now.
He shoved his staff in front of his face, blocking the weapon as it tangled around his weapon that had been aimed for his face, making it ring as metal clashed against metal.
Donatello yanked his staff toward his body, yanking the weapon out of his attacker's grip and kicked his attacker in the chest.
Or plastron, should he say.
His attacker was identical to the other two turtles, only this one sported an orange mask and nunchucks, his wide eyes were childlike and his mouth opened in a perfect 'O' to represent his shock.
"Raph!"
His voice was loud and on the fence between a squeek and a scream, making Donatello's head pound harder.
"Raph, how hard did I hit my head back there?" The turtle asked in that same annoying tone. "I think I'm seeing stuff!"
The only thing he received in response was a grunt of pain from the red masked turtle.
He was trying to stand.
Donatello wasn't sure how well he could handle himself against both turtles.
The turtle still had one nunchuko in his hand as he lunged toward him, swinging the heavy, quick moving weapon with dangerous accuracy.
Donatello had been keeping a mental record of how each new foe fought.
The blue banded turtle seemed to fight with great skill, each blow he delt was precise and deadly. He was patient and would wait for the opportune moment. He would be difficult to trick.
The human acted on instinct and fought with force rather than skill. He would attack at the first slight opportunity he saw, not bothering to wait for a good moment. It would be easy to trick him, but he would have to mind his hockey stick lest he want another headache and would have to stay out of his grip.
The red turtle was obviously much stronger than him and he wielded his sies with deadly intent, each blow aimed to kill. But he too seemed impulsive, and easily distracted like the human. If Donatello had to guess, he would say that the red masked turtle would charge him without a thought if he was provoked enough, and then he would be easily brought down.
The orange turtle seemed to have an abundance of energy and speed, which he used without pause. The pure speed at which the nunchucks were being launched at him with was what made them- and their weilder- dangerous. His moves were seemingly random, thought up on the spot and improvised as he went. When Donatello thought he was going to be kicked, a nunchuck suddenly swung out and wrapped around his wrist, restricing him.
"Whoa, bro, calm down!" The turtle shouted in panic when his remaining nunchucko was yanked from his hand.
Donatello wasted no time in lunging for the glint of metal on the ground.
Vaguely, he realized that he wasn't the only one reaching for it as his fingers grazed the handle and he shoved the blue turtle away as he took his staff with the other hand, gripping the katana.
He sensed movement on either side of him and shot up into a standing position, holding both weapons at the ready.
They didn't even see both blades before their necks were graced with their cold presence, not enough to draw blood, but enough to make them rethink moving. As was intended.
The orange turtle struggled to remain still as the katana blade pressed against the base of his neck tightly, not allowing for even the slightest movement.
The human switched between glaring at Donatello and looking at the bladed staff interest and aggrivation.
Donatello studied the scene around them.
All the Foot soldiers that weren't rushing to unload the cargo into the boat unseen were standing around them, weapons drawn.
But as it was, the attackers were both frozen, watching his every move.
The blue banded turtle was sprawled out on the ground where he had been shoved, but now slowly standing up, his remaining katana clutched in one hand.
The red turtle was scowling at him, watching him carefully. His hands clenched around the hilts of his sies so tightly that the skin turned from green to white. His feet were spread slightly apart, like he was ready to run for it any second.
No, not run away. Donatello realized. Run toward him. To save them.
Donatello repressed any fear that might have been showing on his face.
"Put your weapons down." Donatello yelled. "Now!"
The unspoken 'or else' hung in the air like a gun, like a death sentance to be read aloud.
The two remaining mutants glanced at each other, then simultaneously gripped their weapons tighter.
Donatello evaluated his chances.
If they did attack, Donatello was certain that he could slice his captive's throats before they got to him. The problem was the aftermath. He would undoubtedly become the primary focus of their rage and greif in that event, and Donatello wasn't sure that he could handle the red turtle's brawn with the blue turtle's skill at the same time, which would no doubt be in abundance with their fury.
On the other hand, Donatello knew that greif caused people to make quick, rash decisions. They would be unbalanced as their minds tried to make sense of the sudden loss of life. Their rage would make them sloppy, even the tactical blue banded turtle.
Perhaps this would work in his favor.
"Leonardo, Raphael," Karai's voice yelled out, suddenly beside him. "Drop your weapons."
Karai's presence seemed to have a feeling of finality to it as the two turtles lowered their weapons- or in the red banded turtle's case, threw- to the ground and backed away with their hands in the air.
"Get some rope." Karai ordered.
Karai handed Donatello two bundles of rope and took the bladed weapons from him, ordering two Foot soldiers to tie up the orange turtle and the human.
He started on the red banded turtle first, making sure to tie his wrists together with what was probably more than enough rope than was really necessary. He just wasn't sure of the turtle's strength and didn't want to take chances on him suddenly breaking his binds.
Assuring himself that the ropes would hold, Donatello moved onto the blue banded turtle, securing the ropes in a more expert fashion. He didn't know if this turtle's skills would include how to unknot ropes, but if it did, he wasn't going to be stupid and underestimate him, just in case.
A Foot soldier approached Karai, who was watching another soldier tie the human and the orange turtle's wrists together.
"The cargo is secure, ma'am." He informed her with a respectful bow of his head.
"Good. Once these four are secure," Karai looked them over once. "toss them in the ocean."
It was quiet for all of two seconds.
They might have bound their wrists, but they hadn't bound their mouths and two turtles plus the human were now shouting at Karai.
The red banded turtle let out a string of profanities that would have made a sailor balk, thrashing against his restraints, muscles in his neck and arms bulging, but Donatello had done his job well and the rope did not give.
The orange turtle's eyes grew wide and fearful as he babbled something that was almost incoherent.
"You're- she's- she's joking, right? Guys? Tell me she's joking!" When no one answered him, he began to shake his head wildly. "Look, I know I'm a turtle and all, but I'm really not the best at swimming. I, like, suck! Badly!"
"You're gonna regret this, Karai!" The human warned.
But the blue banded turtle stayed silent, his watchful eyes on Karai, obviously trying to figure out if she was bluffing.
Donatello knew Karai well enough to know that she was not.
The thought of throwing three warriors- plus the human- to the sea with no way of fighting their way out rubbed Donatello the wrong way, the thought of not even giving them a chance to live, to fight for their lives with honor.
There was no honor in sentencing someone to death with no way out. It was like throwing someone who's never held a sword in his life to an arena with no weapons to fight against skilled warriors.
This was no way for warriors to die!
It was dishonorable!
But he couldn't deny that there was something else too, some odd, unexplainable urge- need- to protect them. For the life of him, Donatello could not phantom why he would feel such a thing.
"Karai," his voice was rougher than he had meant for it to be, nearly scolding. He swallowed and tried again. "Karai, our mission was to get the shipment to the boat. It's on the boat, they're no threat to it now. Let's leave."
Karai's eyes narrowed at him suspiciously, like she didn't trust his logic.
No not his logic, him. She didn't trust him.
Donatello watched her from his kneeling position behind the blue masked turtle.
"Throw them in the sea." Karai repeated, every word carrying the force of authority as she dared him to question her again.
Biting back his own string of profanities, Donatello glanced at the intricate knot tied around the blue banded turtle's wrist.
One simple pull of the rope and it would be easily untangled.
There was no hesitation in Donatello's actions.
He quickly pulled the rope just enough that if the turtle were to put up a struggle, the rope would easily give way to him.
The blue banded turtle froze as he felt the change in his restraints but wisely kept quiet.
Donatello stood up, still feeling distasteful about the situation but knowing he had done all he could, and crossed to Karai, holding his hand out for his staff.
She gave it to him without pause, turning for the boat after giving the order to throw them.
Donatello could not look as the three turtles and the human were thrown to the waters, and instead focused on untangling the nunchucko from his weapon.
He followed Karai onto the boat, standing beside her as the boat sped from the docs, a feeling much like guilt growing in his stomach.