Disclaimer: I do not own the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in any way, shape or form, nor do I make any money from these stories.

Author's Note: Well, it has finally happened. I'm writing a completely different genre using a completely different universe o.0!This fic is mainly set in the Fox Box version of the TMNT, however it refers to all previous universes as well. Also, it is set roughly around the events of Season 3. However, because of things entirely out of my control (bad TV programming, DVDs slowly being released), I actually haven't seen all of season 3 as of yet, so I do apologise in advance, though the plot of the season isn't the main focus of the fic anyway. This is rated T for its themes, violence and possible cursing. Originally this was going to be a one shot, but I thought it would be way too long, so I'm going to extend this into a multi-part story. This story will also be rather ambiguous.

Illusion

Chapter One: The Solution.

Illusion:

1. a) An erroneous perception of reality.

b) An erroneous concept or belief.

2. The condition of being deceived by a false perception or belief.

3. Something, such as a fantastic plan or desire, that causes an erroneous belief or perception.

He breathed in. He breathed out. Just simply enjoying the dormant state he was in. His eyes tingled with a dull ache as though it was too much of a strain to open them. Yet the click clack of leather shoes against a hard floor forced Donatello to rouse from his rather peaceful sleep. White. Everything was white. The turtle tried to sit up, only to realise that he was strapped down to a table that was specially designed for carrying out scientific examinations while also fulfilling the need to restrict the unfortunate patient.

The tired tingling, almost burning sensation in his eyes had practically disappeared as his body pumped itself full of adrenaline. Seeing Dr Chaplin advance towards him, Donatello started to panic, pulling against his thick leather restraints. Suddenly the faint memories of what had happened began to resurface in his mind. Don and his three brothers had tried to infiltrate the Shredder's lair, with Don being assigned to personally hacking into the security system's computer mainframe, though obviously not everything had gone to plan. Separated from his family because of his unique task, Donatello had found himself hopelessly surrounded and trapped before eventually succumbing to a round of sleeping gas. Now it seemed that he was at the mercy of Dr Chaplin, forcing Donatello to pray extremely hard that his brothers would rescue him soon.

"So I see that you're finally awake," Dr Chaplin stated the obvious while he excitedly rolled over a portable stainless-steel table that held many unusual medical tools. Usually Donatello would be thoroughly interested in the apparatuses that were laid out neatly on that shiny silver tabletop, but because of the dangerous position he was in, he could only stare at those little toys in fear. The turtle watched in horror as the red-haired scientist picked up and prepared a number of the medical 'weapons' with an almost painstaking slowness.

"What are you going to do to me?" Donatello mustered up the courage to ask once he had gulped down his intense fear.

"Aww, where's the fun if I just tell you?" Dr Chaplin answered back, his eyes still focused on preparing the apparatuses. Donatello shuddered, finding the young man's enthusiasm extremely creepy and disturbing. "But what I can say is that this is going to be awesome! I mean, I can't take all the credit. Dr Stockman came up with the blueprint of this plan. I just merely improved on the idea and played it all out," Dr Chaplin continued to speak as he finally distilled and created a clear coloured solution. Swirling around his new mixture in a flask, the scientist sterilised a few more items before eventually tipping the contents into a delicate glass vial. Popping on a lid, Chaplin vigorously shook the item for a few seconds, allowing the solution to bubble then settle once again. At last, to Donatello's dismay, Chaplin picked up a syringe and extracted the contents.

Squirting out just a few droplets of the solution just to get rid of any unintentional air bubbles, Dr Chaplin approached the strapped-down turtle. Donatello shuddered when he saw the cruel, yet almost playful smile upon the scientist's lips. As the distance between the two quickly closed, Donatello fearfully struggled against his restraints, quickly edging away from the man as far as the leather straps would allow. Don's whole body jumped when Dr Chaplin grabbed his hand. With just an excited grin on his face, the man yanked the limb closer to himself so he could inject the solution more cleanly into the mutant. Donatello's eyes widened in terror as the syringe was emptied. As the contents oozed into his circulatory system, the turtle's vision grew brighter and brighter, almost startling him with how white everything seemed. Then, as though nothing had really changed, Don's vision slowly returned to normal. Suddenly it was all over as Chaplin withdrew the needle.

Observing Donatello's expression, Chaplin couldn't help but laugh. "Don't be so scared! There's plenty more of these to come, so you'll get used to all the injections soon," Chaplin made a lousy attempt in calming his subject.

"What did you do to me?" Donatello panicked, eyes darting around as he looked over his own body, hoping that he couldn't see anything strange or unusual.

"It was just a preparation fluid," Dr Chaplin said as he started to pack away a few pieces of equipment. Obviously the scientist wasn't going to reveal much more, but thankfully because Shredder's employees tended to have a bad habit of boasting, Don was able to obtain a little bit more information than what was allowed.

"Preparation for what? Cloning?" Don asked, still panicking.

"Cloning?" Dr Chaplin replied. "What a novel idea! But no, we're not cloning," the man said.

There was a glint of silver and red as an object spun through the air. With a loud thunk, Dr Chaplin sank to the ground. The single heavy sai that had connected with the back of the man's head also clattered to the floor. Donatello sighed with relief as his three brothers emerged one by one from an air vent. "Donny! You're okay!" Michelangelo and Raphael called out simultaneously. Donatello couldn't stop grinning.

"What happened?" Leonardo was quick to assess the situation.

"Dr Chaplin injected me with something," Don informed his family members.

"You alright?" Leo asked, extremely concerned. Raph and Mike made short work of the leather straps, swiftly unbuckling, untying or cutting through them. As soon as he was able to, Don immediately sat upright and inspected his punctured arm.

"I think I'm fine. I have no idea what he injected me with though," Don mumbled, admitting that he couldn't sense any of the typical side effects such as nausea, lightheadedness or lethargy.

"I don't like this one bit, Leo," Raphael growled as he retrieved the sai he had thrown at Chaplin.

"Me neither," their leader murmured to himself.

"Did you get the information? The disks with all the blueprints on it?" Don questioned.

"Yes. We were just about to leave, so we tried to contact you using your Shell Cell, and that's when we found out that something must have happened to you," Leonardo informed his brother.

"Guys… Can we get out of here? This place is giving me the creeps!" Mike muttered, shuddering when he spotted all of the scary medical tools on Chaplin's portable workbench.

"Tell me about it," Don muttered, his mind still constantly thinking about what he could have been injected with.

"We've got what we came for. Let's retreat," Leo ordered. None of the turtles had to be told twice. Within a few seconds, they had disappeared, leaving the unconscious form of Dr Chaplin behind on the floor.


Donatello stifled a yawn as his fingers clacked over the keyboard. He clicked his computer mouse a few times before stopping his research entirely. Don just couldn't focus. Although the lair was eerily quiet for that time of night, Donatello still failed to concentrate on his work.

For the past few hours, Don had scanned through the disks they had gathered at Shredder's Headquarters. The turtles were hoping to gain insight as to why the enemy was so interested in the alien technology that littered the streets of New York, wishing to even just take a glance at their overall master plan. Yet it wasn't that simple. Things were never that easy. The CD-ROM disks were crammed with multiple firewall programs and security passwords, that Donatello, even with the help of April and Leatherhead, could only hack through only a minor amount of the barriers. Eventually they would crack the coding; it was only a matter of time. However that wasn't why Donatello was losing his focus.

As soon as the turtles had arrived back at the lair, Donatello immediately gave himself a blood test. Inviting Leatherhead over to their home, Don started work on the disks hopefully containing all the information they needed, while the alligator analysed the turtle's blood sample. Within the hour it had been announced that the results were inconclusive – nothing odd could be detected in Donatello's blood. Finding it too early to go back to his separate home, Leatherhead stayed by Don's side, and, with the help of April who had logged on over the Internet, the three of them started working their hardest on the Shredder's highly classified disks. Yet Don's mind couldn't stop thinking about what Dr Chaplin had done to him. What was injected into his blood stream? Was it really nothing, or was it something they that had missed or overlooked? Could the liquefied solution be effecting him right at that very moment, slowly taking over his body?

"You okay, Don?" Leonardo asked out of politeness as he approached the two reptiles sitting at Donatello's workbench.

"I think so…" Don muttered, still taking a break from his work. Leatherhead looked over at his friend, also noticing that the turtle wasn't acting as rapt up in his job like he usually was.

"Are you still worried about Dr Chaplin's injection?" Leatherhead wondered. Donatello sighed.

"It can't just be nothing… Surely there was something in that liquid!" Don exclaimed, becoming rather frustrated.

"Donny… maybe you should call it a night…" Leo suggested.

"No. I should keep working on this," Don remained stubborn.

"Donatello, your brother's right. April and I can continue to work on this," the alligator agreed with Leo.

"It's not as though you have to solve it tonight. The disks can just as easily be cracked tomorrow morning," Leonardo continued to urge his brother to go to bed. Sighing once again, Don looked around the quiet lair and couldn't help but admit that the vast space and solitude did make the idea of sleep rather enticing. He didn't notice it before, but from the lack of noise, Don was able to conclude that Raph and Mike had already gone to bed, probably too tired from their mission to stay up later than needed.

"Alright," Don reluctantly gave in to brother's demands.

"Get some rest," Leo quietly said as he watched the turtle tiredly trudge to his bedroom.


"Gooooood morning, Donny!" Michelangelo over-enthusiastically greeted, drawing out his words in order to convey his cheerful disposition. Donatello welcomed the turtle with a quick smile, though he didn't move from his seat at the dining table.

"Morning," Don greeted, though his words definitely lacked the excitement that was heard in his brother's voice. Mike didn't seem to notice Don's lack of enthusiasm as he instead focused his mind on what he was going to eat for breakfast. Donatello watched silently as Mike whipped out a bowl and a box full of cereal. Sniffing the milk to make sure that it hadn't gone out of date, Mike sloshed the white contents of the carton onto his crispy flakes of rice and sultanas. Before he even had a chance to sit down, Mike had already dug his spoon into his cereal, haphazardly bouncing towards the table in order to eat breakfast with his brother.

With his head resting on one hand, Don used his other hand to mindlessly spin his spoon around in his three-fingered grip, not really becoming bothered that his cereal was getting more and more soggy the more time he wasted. After cramming a spoonful of food into his mouth, Mike looked up and stared at his brother while he noisily crunched on his morning meal. "Something wrong?" Mike asked, causing a few snippets of cereal to spring out of his overloaded mouth.

"It's nothing. Really," Don murmured before slowly swallowing another spoonful of his meal.

"Tell me," Mike persisted. He watched as Don started to absentmindedly twirl his spoon around in his hand again.

"Well… have you ever had a human dream?" Don wondered, already knowing that the subject matter was particularly silly.

"Human dream? What, like you are a human? Or humans are in it?" Mike was slightly confused.

"Ones where you end up being a human," Don clarified.

"Yeah. I get them all the time."

"Really?"

"Did you have one of those last night?" Michelangelo wondered.

"I think so."

"I love human dreams. I get to do heaps of cool stuff. Go to the beach, hang out at the mall, spend time with chicks…" Mike winked when he mentioned the last scenario.

"…Mine wasn't exactly like that…" Don desperately wanted to describe what he had experienced. "…I wasn't anywhere fun… I think I was in some kind of observational research facility," Don said, shuddering as he completed his sentence.

"You know, Leo said that he once read a book about dreams. He told me that dreams just combine all your problems that you faced recently, so that you can deal with the aftermath or prepare yourself better. I mean, you were stuck in Chaplin's lab for a while yesterday. I bet that experience just slipped into your dream," Mike shrugged as he dug his spoon into the sloppy mass of his cereal once again.

"Maybe," Don murmured.

"Leo also said that everyone in their lifetime experiences a dream where your teeth fall out, or you're either flying, falling, chasing or being chased. I bet that dream where we're human are just like those types of dreams… Just really common," Michelangelo surmised before sucking in another mouthful of food.

"It just seemed so real…" Don practically whispered.

"What dream doesn't?" Mike asked. "Anyway, don't worry about. It's not as though it'll ever come true," the orange-wearing turtle lightheartedly added. Don gave his brother a weak smile before finally finishing off the last remnants of his breakfast.


Donatello groaned as another password protected security bulletin popped up on his computer screen. He had made progress, though the task of hacking the classified information disks seemed endless. Just like the previous night, Donatello couldn't stop thinking about what on earth he had been injected with. The mystery just seemed to rot his brain, preventing him from completing any other necessary task. After working on the computer for most of the previous night, Leatherhead had returned to his separate lair in order to get some much-needed rest. April was also occupied as she was selling items from her antique store since it was the peak time for curious customers. So for the past few hours over lunch time, Don had to painstakingly work by himself. Eventually it all became too much for him.

"Leo?" Don called his brother over. Obeying his outcry for attention, Leonardo stopped practicing his katas and focused his undivided attention on Donatello.

"What is it?" Leo asked, wondering if his interruption had anything to do with the disks.

"Can I just spar with you for a few minutes?" Don asked.

"Yeah, sure. Is anything the matter?" Leo wondered, knowing that it was slightly unusual for any of his fellow turtles to volunteer for additional ninjitsu training.

"Just need to get my mind off things for a few minutes. Need a break," Donatello admitted. Leo simply nodded his head and waited while Don retrieved his bo. Without saying any more words, both turtles stepped out into the center of their lair and stood beside the rippling pool of water that housed their mini-submarine. Even though he had been living there for months, Don still hadn't gotten completely used to their new home. Their old lair was more secluded and intimate, while now it seemed that they had too much space, making training seem rather intimidating considering that anyone else could watch from the sides or even up above. However, no matter how uncomfortable he seemed about the situation, Don knew that he just had to get his mind focused on something different rather than the computerised facts, figures and that awful liquefied mixture that had him worried for most of the day. He figured he would lose the match against Leo, but he still desired that energetic and fulfilling rush of adrenaline as though it would remind him how to feel active and alive again.

After seeing Leonardo give a little nod, the turtles burst straight into the fray, clashing weapons instantly. They bounced off each other's attacks, parrying and circling each other, just waiting for an opening to be taken advantage of. Usually Leo was the one who would hang back, but today he surprised his brother by taking the offensive, leaping forward and striking with both expert speed and precision. Naturally Leonardo's attacks were extremely controlled, as after all, he didn't want to injure Donatello or end up breaking the bo in two. Yet despite the fact that Leo was somewhat holding back, Donatello still found it hard to keep up with his fluid leader's attacks.

Suddenly Leonardo performed a tricky stunt, flipping over Donatello so he could strike from the back. Don was lucky enough to blindly block Leo's first hit, but he quickly copped his brother's retaliation. Being kicked in the carapace, Donatello naturally stumbled forward from the force… but something didn't seem right. Don felt like his vision flickered. His entire body shuddered, and while he tried his best to recover from Leo's direct hit, Don found himself unable to control his own body.

Leonardo looked on in horror as Donatello fell to the floor; his muscles locked in spasm. "Master Splinter!" Leo immediately cried out for help, knowing that something was seriously wrong. Even though he had only called out one name, Raphael and Michelangelo arrived on the scene within an instant as well. None of them really knew how to react; Donatello was usually the one who had all the answers. They all continued to look on in terror as Donatello entered a seizure before finally blacking out entirely.

To be continued…