Author's Notes: Okay, okay, I know I should be working on the next installment of this fanfic, but something's been bothering me recently with this story, and I took action to fix it. It all boils down to Donatello.
Donny: Me? What'd I do?
Nothing. It's my fault. See, when I started this fic, all those years (it's been years?) ago, I had seen all three movies and that new one withVenus de Milo(whom you'll never hear me call that again, since I prefer Mei. I can't take her serious enough calling her Venus). However, I dropped the story then picked it up again, and I hadn't watched the movies in some time. Well, I just recently got my hands on the first three, and upon watching the first two, I'm appalled at the way I falsely characterized Donny. So I'm fixing my error and re-drafting the first few chapters.
Donny: I'm touched you care.
Of course I care. However, I have changed some things around, added stuff here, taken some stuff away, basically given this fic a facelift. And so I present the re-vamped first two chapters in what is now the redone Chapter One. Hope you enjoy (if you've made it through this Author's Note, applause and a cookie are in order. Go ahead, go get one, I'll wait.) Standard disclaimers apply, since of course I don't own these characters. I just wanna have fun with them.
It was really too late for him to even be thinking about working. Later he would blame this sole fact for the aftereffects this evening would bring to himself and others. Every chemist knew that all-nighter's mixed with decaf coffee was a recipe for disaster. Leon Vigil had been working for the past week on his experiment, hoping for a breakthrough. If only he would have listened to his professor's advise; putting in twenty-two hours a day forastraight weekwas no way to make a breakthrough in anything. Not a verbatim quote, mind you, but essentially that was the point Vigil's former professor had tried to get across to the stubborn young man.
Leon rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hands, feeling as if thousands of little needles were scratching at the sensitive organs. Sighing heavily, he adjusted his perch on the uncomfortable wooden stool, resting an elbow on the black table before him. Sheer exhaustion compelled him to allow his chin to drop onto his open palm, eyelids drooping. Dimly he knew that the scattering of his thoughts was his cue to crash. He wouldn't be able to finish tonight. In fact, he was now certain that if he didn't get at least twenty-four consecutive hours of sleep, he'd never be able to understand his notes, let alone finish his experiment.
He knew the other chemists thought him nuts; genetic reconstruction was not something that they ever bothered with. After all, they were chemists, not geneticists or biologists. However, having minored in genetics and with a constant curiosity of the natural world, Leon Vigil was a man bound by little, least of all a title. He was a chemist merely by trade, compliments of the diploma hanging framed in his office. At this point, even his job was arguable at the best times (namely, when his boss and fellow employees weren't present). His boss was a liberal man, and gave all his older employees free reign of the labs and their resources. However, Vigil being only a few years out of college and into the company, the big man with the dark eyes was hardly tolerant of Vigil's flagrant disregard for procedures and assignments. Vigil often wondered what made Mr. Booler keep him on staff.
Not that he much cared. Jobs restrained one so. He'd prefer a lab of his own, where he could keep his own hours and not have to argue with co-workers. Of course, barring any chance of money falling from the sky into his lap, his own lab was a dream and nothing more.
Vigil began to pack his things, turning off burners and placing containers of catalysts and chemicals back where they belonged. Picking up the single remaining flask of pale blue chemicals, he grabbed his coat and walked out. As he exited he nodded to the lean night man at the front of the building.
"Going home early tonight, aren't you Leon? Does this mean you've finished?" The night man asked, an almost-friend who had spent many nights chatting with the chemist. He found that Dr. Vigil was very unpretentious and, unlike his colleagues, did not look down the bridge of his nose at the security.
"Nope. Not even close, unless I've been working while I sleep. I'm just exhausted." Leon turned around and waved to the security guard. "Give my regards to Melissa, and tell her I hope she pops that kid out soon."
"You and her both. She says if she gets any bigger she's going to pull the kid out herself. Night, Leon."
"Night, Frank." Leon chuckled as he walked out the door;a second later his mirth was interrupted by a rather large yawn. Time for bed.
Whistling some nameless tune, he jogged through the parking lot to his car, parked at the end.
" 'She's open waiting for more, and I know he's only looking to score,' " Leon sang slightly off-tune. He really ought to insist that Michele play that CD more often. What was the name of that group..? Blink 186? No, Blink 128. No, that wasn't it either. Damn, he'd just ask her tomorrow. That is, if he could even drag his sorry butt out of bed.
It was really a tragic thing that happened next. After all, had he been more conscientious with his time, he would have been more alert, thus avoiding the next chain of events. However, one can't change the past as one pleases, and hindsight is 20/20. So it was by nothing but sheer over exhaustion and unobservant behavior that contributed to his accident.
The dip-well, if I were to be honest, I'd be more inclined to call it a ditch-in the street was in plain view for anyone with the common sense to look where he was going. However, Leon was too enchanted with the mystical glare of the streetlights (as one often is when one has almost no followable train of thought). As a result of all these many elements rolled into one lumbering zombie so ironically named Vigil, our very-tired chemist stumbled and tripped. The coat and flask flew from his grasp to arch gracefully through the air before they disappeared into the shadows of the evening. Leon wasn't able to observe much past the initial take-off of his things, seeing as the harsh meeting with the ground left him unconscious.
But hey, at least he was finally resting.
"Yo, dudes, check it out!" With that warning call, the four turtles and singular rat looked up from their individual tasks in time to see Michelangelo slide down the metal handrail of their underground home. Hehopped off just before gravity would take over and have his bottom end met harshly with the concrete, andbounded into the room with a broad grin. In one hand were a coat and a flask with some strange kind of blue liquid contained in it.
"I found this." He held up the coat and flask for them to see, though it was clear that he was more interested in the flask than the coat.
Mei Pieh Chi looked up from her seat next to Splinter, both shocked out of their meditative trances by Mikey's loud entrance. Leonardo walked out of one of the abandoned subway cars that they'd transformed into their home, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of one hand. Raphael had been lounging on one of the couches they'd "found" but now propped himself up onto his elbows. Donatello's eyes widened as he looked at the flask, interest sparking in his eyes.
"Where exactly did you find it?" Leo asked, stretching idly as he stood near Mei and Splinter. Raphael got up and joined his brother, silent.
Michelangelo grinned sheepishly and glanced at Splinter. "Well, I kinda found it near this lab, about five miles south from here...above ground." He rubbed the back of his head with his spare hand and began explaining in a rush. "See, I thought I saw someone hurt and got up to see if they were all right, but I noticed the coat and flask first, and was about to go to the guy when an ambulance pulled into the parking lot and I had to turn shell and run. No one saw me, I swear!"
Splinter only nodded, signifying that he was not upset.
"I wonder what this is?" Donatello snatched the flask from Mikey's grasp. Hepeered through the glass at what it contained, swirling it gently. "It's too bright to be water, and not thick enough to be any solution I've ever read about. It's almost as if it's not actually a liquid, but rather a compound somehow trapped between the liquid phase and gas phase."
If Raphael had eyebrows, this would have been where he raised them. Donny was in his pondering-the-questions-of-the-universe frame of mind. This meant that there wouldn't be much any of them could do to prevent him from taking the flask and experimenting on the contents.
"Maybe it's mouthwash!" Mikey joked, grabbing the flask back from Donny.Theturtle withthe purple bandanalooked at his now empty hands in shock. "In which case, I think Raph should have first dibs!"
Raphael glared viciously at his brother, ready to pounce on him and kick his shell. Leoleveled a look at him and shook his head slightly. Grudgingly Raphael relaxed and crossed powerful arms over his chest. He'd let that one slide, for now.
"Hey!" Donny took the flask back from Mikey. "I'm the smart one, therefore I, by default, get all the unidentified substances."
"You want unidentified substance, go check out the bathroom. Or the closet. I found it, it's mine!" The argument reached it's peak as the two both got a hand on the flask and began tugging on it in a typical brotherly fashion, both shouting insults at one another. Leo sighed and rolled his eyes heavenward, rubbing his hairless head.
"Would you two just cut it out?" He asked the two. Both ignored him and continued the fight, now yelling threats at one another.
"Boys." Mei shook her head, resting her chin on her palm, elbow on her knees. "You'd think they'd learn to resolve their arguments peacefully."
"Give it to me!" With that and an extra hard yank, Donatello, who had his back to the group, managed to gain control of the flask. However, having gotten used to the opposite pull of his brother on said object, he lost his balance and tumbled to the ground. The subject of the argument flew from his grip and for the second time in a very short period, arched through the air and crashed to the ground. This time, the coat didn't break its fall, and the flask shattered. The liquid, upon such rough contact, vaporized into a pale blue gaseous fog that surrounded all of them in seconds.
"Don't inhale it! It might be toxic!" Donatello said from where he lay on the ground, inadvertently taking the gas into his system even as he cautioned the others against it.
The others, only too happy to oblige with their book-smart friend and brother, all decided to hold their breath until the fog dissipated. Funny thing about holding your breath, though: most people feel compelled to inhale deeply prior to the length of time while refusing to take in air. Therefore, everyone took a deep breath and held it. On the ground, Donny groaned and rolled his eyes.
It only took a few seconds for the air to clear, and the moment it did, Donny jumped up and started yelling at them.
"For the love of...when I told you not to inhale, that meant not to inhale! And what do all of you do? Take a big 'ole whiff of air into your lungs!"
Splinter blinked, surprised at the strength of Donatello's rage, understanding that it was only because he was worried for the health of the others.
"Uh...Donny?" Michelangelo said tentatively, looking at his brother as if unsure about his mental state at the moment.
"What?" Donny yelled, turning to glare at him.
"When you told us not to breath it..." He began, scratching the back of his head once more, "...you kinda inhaled..."
All Donny could do was level a glare at the youngest of their brothers while Leo and Raph laughed.
Over the next few days, none of them felt very well. In fact, for the most part, they felt like they were being torn apart and mangled from the inside out. All of them had fevers, and their skin was so pale it was almost like looking through a thin piece of jade.
Raphael and Mei seemed to have it worse, because Raphael's shell became very sensitive until any contact between it and even a pillow was painful. As one can imagine, this only succeeded in worsening his mood.
Mei conceded to have Donatello examine her when her symptoms arose. From his observations that first day, she was a mess; her eyes were dull, her skin almost gray. She was sweating profusely, and showing signs of only heading downhill. During that night she hadmanaged to lose weight, and her face was gaunt the last time he saw her. Of course, by the second day she'd holed up in her room and refused to let anyone see her, apparently not eating or drinking either.
Leonardo couldn't manage to keep any food down, and only found relief from his stomach and side aches by sleeping. He claimed his head was pounding as if twenty members of the Foot were trying to get free from his skull. Not only that, but he was losing weight as well, and by the fourth day was smaller than Mei had been. Even his shell seemed to shrivel and thin, remaining hard in the center, but as it spanned outward having the feel of leathery skin.
Michelangelo refused to let Donatello examine him at first. This was partly because he felt guilty at introducing that flask into their clan (for he had already decided that this epidemic was caused by that odd gas), and partly because he refused to admit he was sick. While none of them had ever had more than a head cold by way of viruses, Mikey had the best track record, health wise. Eventually he gave in and allowed Donatello to make Mikey his "lab rat," as Michelangelo referred to himself. Donatello found that the jokester was showing similar symptoms to the rest of them, which only worried Donny more.
Splinter had lost all his hair, except for what few tufts were on the top of his head. Even those few coarse locks had turned shock-white in color, hanging limply on his bald forehead. He didn't lose much weight, and actually began to fill out around the hips and shoulders. And while Donatello wouldn't mention it, he privately noted that it appeared that the muscles beneath his arms, legs, and abdomen were reforming and strengthening. Splinter didn't complain at all, even though his whole face looked frail. Strangest werehis ears, whichwere lowering and rounding.
These were the things Donatello couldn't explain, and therefore kept to himself and to one side in his mind. These irregularities and inexplicable events would only distract him while he tried to find some way to ease his brother's, his Master's, and Mei's pain.
Donatello himself was as sick as the rest of them, if not worse, but refused to let it keep him from trying to help. He stayed up almost all day, experimenting with possible remedies, his cough tearing at his vocal cords and lungs. It wasn't until late into the evening on the fourth day that he noticed his hands.
His nearly dropped his pencil he was so stunned. He reprimanded himself for not noticing it sooner, but allowed himself the small comfort that he'd been very distracted. Holding up one hand to eye level, adjusting it so that the light burning from the lamp hit his palm, he examined every inch of it's surface. He'd noticed that all of them were losing weight and that almost every part of them had shrunk in size, but what he hadn't noticed was something that stared him in the face. Something right under his now itching beak.
His fingers looked to be splitting in half.
Well, not all three of them; just the two at the top. The thumb was smaller and turned more outward than normal and his bone structure in it looked slightly different. But his other two fingers demanded all his attention. They were as thick as they always had been, but now he noticed that right down the middle of both, the skin had become thinned. Indeed, it had also kind of shrunken and shriveled so that it almost looked like there were two separate digits under the thin, gray skin.
Donatello pulled off his mask and rubbed his eyes, which oddly enough were blurring constantly now. He squinted at the paper he'd been writing on, and then attempted to pick up where he had left off. He couldn't. He kept looking at his hands, and the sight of them almost made him retch. The unfamiliarity of it appalled him in such a way that it was all he could think of.
Scratching the top off his head, he noticed for the first time that both the top and side of his head as well as his nose now itched. His idly ran his fingers over the normally smooth, bald surface of his scalp.
Maybe it was because of all the other surprises, but somehow the discovery that his head was no longer smooth didn't surprise him. With mute fascination, he ran his newly deformed fingers over the scratchy surface, feeling the tiny pinpricks of rough hair poking through his skin. While it was not uncommon for them to have little hairs appear in various places on their bodies, most of them died rather quickly.Those that didn't were so fine and thin that they only served as sensory detectors. These, he could tell, would not fall into either category.
With a growing sense of dread, he began to form his theory. What he came up with he didn't like. Sighing, he got up and walked toward the subway cars, heading for the door that led to Mei's quarters.
Leo and Mikey stumbled out from their rooms, looking no worse than before but far from better. Donny supposed he should be grateful for that small reassurance. He inclined his head to them, feeling oddly subdued.
Leo managed a ragged hello, his voice half a level deeper than usual. Mikey nodded as well, sweat dripping from his forehead down between his eyes and off his beak.
"Mei?" He was embarrassed at the way his voice broke, but his vocal cords were already screaming in protest from all the coughing, and at the moment he wasn't willing to push himself.
"Go away!" The shrill sound was more of a wail than a command, and Donny saw his expression mirrored on his brother's faces.
"Mei, are you okay?" Leo ventured.
"Please, leave me alone!" Her voice was now backed by emotion, sobs enunciating each word. "I don't want you to see me."
"I have to have a look at you, Mei. I think I know what's going on."
"Come back when you do know and have a way to fix it!"
Mikey sighed and attempted to retrieve his sense of humor, forgotten these past few days due to the sickness battering down the doors of his defensive system.
"Come on babe, give Donny a break. The more lab rats he has to observe, the more likely he is to make a breakthrough."
"Please don't. I'm too embarrassed..."
Donny felt his patience wearing thin, and was about to break down the door when Leo stopped him. Donatello stepped back, confused, but then Leo pushed the door aside easily. It hadn't been locked.
"No!" That final plea, the final command for them to stay away, was lost as the three peeked their heads around the corner to peer in on her.
Mei sat perched on her bed, cover drawn around her thin shoulders, body completely covered except for the one hand that clenched it shut, her feet, and her neck and head.
What they did see was enough for Donny to come crashing to a conclusion so abruptly that it left him dizzy. They almost couldn't recognize Mei Pieh Chi, for she looked nothing like the beautiful turtle that had come into their lives.
Hair-actual hair-had grown with what must have been atrocious speed, for it capped her head neatly. It matted in some places from sweat but there was no doubting it's existence. Not only that, but her entire facial structure had changed. Replacing her beak was a straight nose with two eyebrows arching thinly to either side at the top. Beneath the pale eyebrows was the only thing that could have reminded them that she was Mei: crystal blue, almond shaped eyes that indeed would be impossible on a turtle, but matched the bandana that lay on her lap. Dark circles dominated the area beneath these terrified eyes. Her lips were full, pale red in color. Another thing that struck them, of course, was her skin tone, which Donny remembered as observing to be ashen gray the first day of her sickness. Now it was flushed with the red blood that flowed beneath it, the skin so pale in some places that the blue veins were clearly visible. Beneath the cap of hair, Donny could barely discern ears, small but well formed. Her hands and feet were that of a human as well, with five digits on each appendage instead of three.
Terror and humiliation were the two emotions that warred for dominance on her face, shame hunching her shoulders beneath the thick blanket. Tears coursed down her pale cheeks as all color drained from her face at the sight of them.
Leo moved first, making it to the bed in two steps and throwing his arms around her in the same motion. She let loose the torrent of her tears, freeing from her much-changed physical body all the pent-in emotions.
"What happened...to me?"
Leonardo stroked her back, catching Donatello's eyes and sending him a look that answered his final question-she no longer had a shell.
She was a human-completely and fully by Donatello's assumptions.
"We'll find out. And then we'll fix it."
She only continued to cry as the boys exchanged glances.
"What's the noise all about?" Raphael joined them, looking more like Mei than the other three. Hair the color of an aged red wine dominated the top of his head, long enough to fall down from the pull of gravity but not long enough to cover much. He too had acquired ears. Raphael appeared to have misplaced his beak, except for the bulk of the middle, which Donny assumed would reform into his more human nose. His eyes were still wide and dark, though maybe a little closer together, and Donny could almost detect eyebrows over the haunted orbs.
He took one look at Mei and stopped suddenly, something changing in his eyes. He flicked his gaze from Mei's tear-streaked face to Leonardo, who continued to comfort her. Something in his expression changed slightly, but he then nodded, turned, and left. He returned moments later with Splinter. Their master was bent over almost double in a fit of coughing.
"So, it appears that we have a problem on our hands." Raphael said blandly. His voice was as raspy as Donny's, and the usual sneer that marred his face was absent. He spoke to the whole group but his gaze rarely shifted from Mei and Leonardo. "If Mei is any indication, then I think we know what's in store for us. And seeing as all of us are fairly smart, I think we can figure out the cause." He gave Mikey a significant look, and the younger turtle blushed.
"No one is to blame for this incident." The pause in Splinter's voice right before that last word could have easily been for him to catch his breath from his coughing fit. "However, I think we need to discuss some things to figure out how to handle this situation, and how to possibly fix it."
Mikey spoke for the first time since Mei's door had been opened. "Well, I suppose in a few days we'll all be needing those shorts of mine." He was of course referring to the stash of colorfully loud Hawaiian pants that he'd worn right before going into the past to rescue April.
Mei was actually the first one to laugh, wiping one hand across her face and pulling gently away from Leonardo.
"In a few days you'll be able to go pick up the pizza, instead of scaring the delivery boy out of his wits."
Mikey allowed a grin to play across his pale cheeks.
"You know, I hadn't thought of that aspect of our situation. Being able to walk the streets of New York without having to wear a hat and trench coat." Donatello said thoughtfully, rubbing his nose. "Well, in that case, perhaps we could buy better clothes."
"With what money?" Raphael asked sarcastically. "If memory serves, saving the oh-so-grateful residents of New York's ass didn't come with a very hefty paycheck."
"Raphael." Splinter shot him a warning look. Raphael frowned but said nothing.
"We can pay for pizza every other day, can't we? We could just resort to cutting down on the pepperoni intake and spend the money on suitable attire instead." Mikey looked indignant at Donatello's suggestion of forfeiting his precious pies until he saw the looks his friends shot him. He slouched in his seat opposite Mei and Leo.
Donatello began pacing the room. "We could always contact April. Or Casey, for that matter."
"No good." Leonardo shook his head. "Casey went out of town on 'business'."
"But I think April's back." Mikey added. "What day is it? She was only supposed to be gone twenty days."
Donatello, consulting the small calendar tacked to the wall of Mei's room, nodded. "I think she gets back today. Or maybe yesterday..."
Mikey shot up and ran out of the room, saying over his shoulder, "I'll call her!"
They all got up and left the room, Mei still clutching the blanket around her. None of them asked why. Really, they already knew, and wanted to save her the embarrassment of admitting to her naked condition.
Mikey stood leaning against the wall, phone pressed to his ear. Donatello had noticed the ears, but by now all the things around him were so extreme that no one thing could really register completely.
"Hello? April?" He grinned. "Guess. Oh come on, you have to know it's your favorite turtle in the world..." His face dropped and he pouted. "No, it's not Raphael!"
Raphael would have allowed himself to gloat had it not been for the fact that mixing up his and Mikey's voice was more of an insult than anything else.
"Well, anyway, feel like paying us a visit? Actually, it's kind of an emergency." He glanced at Mei and appeared to blush, looking away quickly. "And could you bring some, uh, female things?" He paused, looking at the others, and turned away, mumbling into the mouthpiece. Then he nodded firmly. "Ok, see ya in ten." With that he hung up.
"Hey guys!" April bounded down the steps of the abandoned subway, grocery bags practically spilling from her arms. "I brought loads of munchies, and some healthy treats that I think Splinter will approve of. And why on Earth did you want me to bring clothes..?" She trailed off with her sentence as she looked into the living area, where everyone had settled himself or herself. Except for Raphael, who was pacing nervously back and forth, wearing a pair of Michelangelo's pants and looking ridiculously thin.
Her jaw dropped, and if it weren't for Raph's quick reflexes, the things she had been holding would have made a rather extensive mess on the floor.
"Welcome to the special, one-time viewing of 'The Mutation of the Mutants'." Mikey joked.
April could only stare.
To Be Continued