Disclaimer – I wish there was a way for my brain to take a message whenever a new story idea comes to mind. Alas, that is not the case. I would write little 'to do' lists for stories that I don't have time to write, just so I can finish my current projects. However, I have found that I 'lose' these lists amid the chaos of my long, long, very long list of projects already stored on my hard drive.
Nevertheless, this story will not be a marathon.
Also, at the time that I first uploaded chapter one, I didn't know exactly how chapter two would go. With the story as completed as I want it to be for now, I have been encouraged to alert you, the reader, that before you continue, you should be aware that this fic is about abortion. You should also know that I am pro life, and that there will be graphic scenes in chapter two. This fic is catagorized as horror and rated M for a reason, so don't be too shocked with the contents. If you consider yourself too sensitive for such things as dismemberment, though, stop reading now. You have been warned.
As it is, I anticpate getting a lot of flack from this story where it concerns abortion, but I felt it important to write, just the same. I don't expect everyone to agree with me, as there are many different viewpoints worldwide on this topic and, given the large membership of our wonderful genre called Ninja Turtles, I expect that is true with this forum as well. Regardless, I have tried to respect these views, as well as others, to the best of my ability, but sometimes another perspective needs voicing.
May I receive, in kind, a similar offering of respect.
Oh, and I in no way judge anyone who has had to make such a difficult decision as abortion. My hugs to everyone who has had to make such a choice.
Be blessed.
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Throwaway
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Chapter One – Scavenging
Donnie grinned big and he would have smiled from 'ear to ear', if he had any, but ear holes worked just as well when one was as happy as he was currently feeling.
However, noticing the disappointed expression on Raphael's face, he softened his delight just a little. This was supposed to have been Raph's turn, but – as usual – the evening before, Mikey had teased Raphael once too many times. Of course, it had only encouraged their red-banded brother to trash the lair in his attempt to corral his youngest, annoying sibling. After returning with Leonardo from foraging, the resulting disaster that greeted Splinter forced the master to implement punishment for each of his wayward sons.
And that punishment was that they would both lose their next turn for going topside with their father.
However, the sage rat had waited until the following evening, allowing them time before telling them, therebygiving their imaginations plenty of opportunities to create many unsettling scenarios. Then, just after dinner the following night, he had made his pronouncement.
"But, Master Splinnterrrr…" begged Mikey as he whined, "you know I need fresh air and the outdoors and exercise and…"
Shaking his head in misery, Raph groaned and rolled his eyes to the heavens as Splinter smiled and replied eagerly, "Exercise? Well, my sons, if exercise is what you need, then I will gladly add more katas to your training – and to your punishment. But, you are both grounded and I expect you to behave yourselves, otherwise you will find more time in the lair and…more time in the dojo."
Splinter hated using training as punishment, where he had tried hard to instill a sense of honor and noble purpose for the time his sons spent in training. Yet as they grew towards their adolescent years, their enormous energy levels force him to find ways to expend such exuberance…lest they drive him to insanity.
"Now," he continued, "you will each perform your required five katas and then…you will do another five. Afterwards, I want every weapon in the storage case cleaned, and then, I want you to clean the dojo floor. This has to be done and completed before Donatello and I return, is that clear?"
"Hai, Sensei," both brothers bowed with reluctant obedience.
Chastised and rebuked properly, the two then set about heading towards the dojo, silent for the most part, except for Raph grumbling to Mike about his ill-timed words, "The next time you feel like complain', don't…otherwise…" He lowered his voice as the two slipped around the corner and into the hallway from where Splinter, Leonardo, and Donnie stood. Even though Raph's words were undetectable to the rest of the family, the following gasp from Mike told those in the living room that, whatever it was Raphael had just said, Michelangelo understood perfectly well.
"Leonardo," Splinter turned to his oldest, "I want you to keep an eye on them, but please do not be so obvious about it?" He gave his son a stern gaze, "Leadership is more than just commanding, it is done carefully and considerately. I only want a report on how well they followed my decree."
"Hai, Sensei," Leo bowed his head smartly, "I'll make sure that they…"
"No, Leonardo," the rat reiterated, "I only want you to report to me. They must learn to follow my instructions even when I am not home, and I expect the same from you!"
Leonard sighed and nodded his head, bowing it once again in submission.
Still, Leo knew all too well that Mikey would just play around and, when he tired of his restrictions, Raph would storm off to his room. Ultimately, Leonardo would end up finishing their work, otherwise his brothers would find more punishment added to their already woeful evenings. At the very least, he wanted to make sure that they didn't get more detention, thereby allowing them freedom from the confines of the lair. In short, it gave Leonardo and whomever else that stayed behind, some reprieve from Mike's pranks and Raph's cranky attitude.
Yes, Leo knew very well how the evening would go.
He then looked up at Donnie and sighed in resignation. In response, Don grinned back, understanding exactly what kind of problems his older brother would be having while he and their father were gone. Then, and without another word, Splinter turned and led Don out of the lair, leaving Leonardo in charge.
A while later found Donatello following his master through the dark, smelly sewers, heading for their favorite opening. The access shaft in question led up into a dead-end alley, steeped in shadow, and located between two windowless warehouses. With its only entry in conjunction with another byway, they could slip out virutally undetected from within the dank sewers. Rarely did they ever find their way blocked or threatened, and the amount of trash collected there told them that very few humans ventured into it, as well. It was a perfect spot and so Splinter had made it their main exit point.
Yet, as far as Donatello was concerned, leaving the safety of the sewers was probably the most exhilarating and dangerous part about going topside. So many things could happen. It wasn't everyday, or night for that matter, when someoneother than maintenance workersslipped out from the bowels of the big city. Given the fact that Don and his family wore oversized hats and coats that weren't government-issued, this would alert anyone who chanced upon them that they were out of the ordinary.
Coincidentally, Splinter considered leaving the sewers as the most important part of their journey, as well, and he always repeated the same instructions every time. "Listen, first, my son…" he would first say, "then, ease the lid up carefully, only enough for you to see out. Listen again and look...smell the air…then, ease the lid back down. Do the same with the other side, listen, smell…, and then if the way is clear, silently move the lid to one side, but only enough so that it will allow room you to exit the sewer without your shell scraping the opening's sides." Splinter would pause to allow his words to sink in, and then he would add, "Always have your weapons in mind when you exit,incase someone sees you. Although most human's are benign, one must never let down their guard."
As it usually was, though, they never did see any people around that part of the alley…and, this night wasn't any exception, either.
Now, as Don and his father eased the sewer lid back into place, they stepped into the shadows alongside one of the warehouses near the alley's main conjunction. Concealed within the building's dark silouhette, they stood there and waited. As they did, the freshness of the outside air nearly intoxicated Donatello, even though smog edged the oxygen-rich environment. Still, for him, breathing fresh air was one of the benefits about going topside that Don enjoyed the most. In contrast, once they returned home, it always seemed to take him some time to get used to the sewers again.
He watched, now, as his father checked the area.
With the hood of his coat concealing his identity, the rat edged carefully up to the corner of the building. Glancing around the end, he looked quickly right and then left, and then stepped back into the shadows, as he sighed in relief. After a moment, Splinter whispered, "The way is clear, Donatello, we can walk freely."
A short while later and a few blocks away, they found themselves scavenging through a dumpster. It was one of the ways that they supplied their pantry with food back in the lair. Their most lucrative searches usually occurred near the end of the week and behind various markets and grocery stores. That was when the proprietors would clear their shelves of out-dated stock before the weekend rush.
However, for Donatello, the best part was when they scavenged behind appliance and electronic stores. Sometimes machinery would break and then these items would find their way tossed into the trash. For Don, though, discovering such toys was like Chrstmas morning. With Splinter's permission, he would take his rescued electronics back home to fix and add them to his burgeoning collection of technology he housed in a spare corner of the lair. Due to the considerable size of some of Donatello's discoveries, though, Splinter had made it a rule that, whatever item he found, Donatello could only pick one to take back to the lair, assuming that it could fit inside his sack and not take up so much room that it sacrificed the more important staples - such as food. Although it was often hard for the young turtle to decide as to which 'treasure' to bring home, he had to be grateful that Splinter even allowed him to, just the same.
This evening, though, Donatello found that their foraging took them farther away from his favorite haunts. He was greatly disappointed, too. Nevertheless, as Splinter led him through the alleys an dbyways of New York City, Don he went along without complaint as, as was his custom.
As they continued checking various locations and favorite scavenging spots, Donatello worked diligently alongside his mentor. Splinter smiled as he watched his son sort through the debris with him. He always enjoyed having his more gifted student along, where he could share intricate thoughts and observations with him. With the others, they seemed more interested in just playing around. Of course, as he grew older, Leonardo had become less so, but that was only because of the responsiblities that Splinter gave him. Having been chosen as leader had helped mature Leo considerably, although his father was chagrined to find that not all of his sons appreciated his choice.
Raphael had become a conundrum of worry for the ninja master. The growing anger and discontentment that his red-banded son expressed, had perplexed the poor rat. Splinter kept hoping that his more tempestuous son would understand his choices, but – so far – that had become what Splinter learned from Donatello to be a 'pipedream'.
In any event, where it concerned Donatello, there was a certain spark of keen persception from his intelligent son that the rat found refreshing. The fact that his brightest student seemed smart enough to listen to instructions made him a pleasure to bring along whenever they went foraging together.
As it was,their search behind McHenry's Market yielded a rather bountiful reward, providing them with many viable items for the pantry. Both Splinter and Donatello's sacks were near to bursting when the rat decided to call it a night. When he made his decision and turned back towards the direction of their alley, he noticed a slight hesitation from Donatello.
"What is it, my son?" the rat asked as he turned to face him. Although both had their heads concealed, Splinter with his hood and Don with his over-sized fedora hat, the master could easily sense his son's displeasure. When he did not receive an immediate reply, the rat restated his question again, "You may speak freely, Donatello."
Sighing, Don replied softly, "We've…hardly been anywhere, Master Splinter," he looked down one end of the alleyway from where they were standing, his gaze longing and desirous. "Can't we make…a short visit to…Ted's Electronics?"
Smiling inwardly, for he knew how much his son loved to 'browse' through the store's dumpster, Splinter subtly shook his head, "No, I am afraid not." He nodded towards Don's sack, "And, even if you should find something, where would you put it, Donatello?"
The young turtle looked at his bulging sack and then up at his father again. He bowed his head replied, with dejection in his voice, replied, "I…I don't know." Then, he asked expectantly as he glanced up at Splinter, "Next time, maybe?"
Chuckling a little, the rat nodded his head, "Yes, Donatello, we will make it a point to visit Ted's Electronics, the next time you go topside with me."
Brightening at that prospect, Don smiled, "That would be great, Sensei, thank you."
Yes, indeed – Splinter thought - Donatello certainly was a pleasure. "Such a compliant child," he remarked to himself.
As they were making their way home, they crossed behind yet another building towards their favorite dead-end alley, with only two more blocks to go. Suddenly, they heard something. It was faint, muffled, and it seemed in distress.
"A cat, Sensei?" Donatello asked, "Or, maybe a kitten?"
Splinter held up his paw to silence his son and then listened. Beneath his hood, his ears pitched forward a bit to find out from where the sound was coming. He rotated them around as far as they could, until his ears returned once again to their original position. He looked intently once more down the length of the small byway, which was nothing more than a short pass-through between two streets. He noticed three dumpsters, with the lid of one opened to expose the interior. The sound seemed to be coming from inside that particular bin. "No, something else," he answered, but sudden anger edged his voice.
Donatello caught the difference in his master's tone. "What – is it, then?" he asked worriedly.
"Come with me, Donatello, we haven't much time."
Fearing something awful, Don followed his father as the rat hurried over to the opened trash container. As he did, the young ninja reconnoitered his surroundings,looking behind him, and then above, finally returning his gaze to watch as Splinter sprinted on ahead. This was what he had been trained to do and what his master had taught him since Don and his brothers were toddlers, just incase someone came upon them unexpectedly. Donnie kept his eyes and ears alert to any sudden appeareance from humans, all the while following his master towards the trash bin.
Just as they approached the dumpster, though, the mewing intensified in volume, quickly becoming an all-out cry of distress. The young turtle's attention now shot back to his father. He watched in unexpected surpriseas Master Splinter leapt easily to the top edge of the trash bin. He waited anxiously as his father crouched low to minimize his size. As the rat's feet grabbed at the container's edges, he straddled the corner of the dumpster, and balanced himself for just a second, before peering expectantly inside.
Suddenly, Don heard his father growl in anger. Immediately, the young turtle reached back and, slipping his hand under the coat's collar, slipped his bo staff out from out its holder. His heart rate now jumped dramatically as he anticipated an attack. Would this be his first? Would he and his father battle some unseen enemy together for the very first time?
More importantly, would he be ready?
The truth was, Don was afraid and he couldn't help but be worried with uncertainty. "Whymewhy mewhymewhyme?" he lamented silently, "Why now, of all evenings, when it could have been Raph, or even Mikey?"
He then thought ruefully to himself as he slightly shook his head,"Why not 'me', indeed!"