Baron still did not release his hold on Donatello's jacket as he was dragged out of the cells and into the hall.
"Let me go!" Donatello yelled again. "I can walk to Shredder myself, I don't need you dragging me!"
"Getting bold there, aren't you?" Baron snarled as he yanked the turtle, once again, taking him off balance.
"Let me go Baron, or so help me-"
Donatello never got to finish his half hearted threat as he was shoved through a door, which was promply shut and locked by Baron.
Donatello swiftly yanked himself out of Baron's grip and backed up, putting some much needed distance between them.
Glancing around, Donatello realized that Baron had dragged him into his lab. There was a sense of dejavu about the last time they had talked in this room.
"Shredder didn't want to see me, did he?" Donatello spat out angrily.
This was a waste of his time!
Raphael could have another heart attack any minute! And Michelangelo didn't look like he could stand on his own right and Donatello didn't want to know how far Roland would try to push Leonardo's body before it inevitably snapped.
"No. We need to talk." Baron said. "What was that? Back there?"
Donatello crossed his arms over his plastron.
"You killed him. Do you realize that? His heart stopped, and if I hadn't started it again, we would've had to answer to Shredder and I don't think he would've been happy that you disobeyed his orders." Donatello said, trying to control his pounding heart, which still thumped from the adrenaline he had just experienced.
Baron cocked his head as he examined him.
"Is that your excuse?" Baron asked the quiet turtle. "Donatello you have had a distinctly difficult time following orders when those three are concerned. Is there anything you want to tell me?"
As he asked this, Baron had taken considerable steps closer, to which Donatello responded by taking even more steps back.
"I'm following orders." Donatello managed to get out of his suddenly tight throat.
Baron raised an amused eyebrow and Donatello realized just how much Baron didn't care about those turtles downstairs. He found this funny, like he couldn't even understand how anyone could care about their well-being!
"This is wrong, Baron!" Donatello found himself snarling, shocking himself, but he didn't stop. "We have them chained to a room, torturing them, tearing them apart and for what?"
Baron leaned closer to him.
"We're following orders, remember?" Baron hissed, then straightened up with a smirk. "Besides, you are certainly not a saint, dear boy."
Donatello instinctively recoiled at the subtle insinuation of that event, but quickly attempted to deter focus from a topic of discussion that he really didn't want to have.
"Oh? And what was that little stunt you pulled with Leonardo? What, pray tell, was that?" Donatello demanded, angrily. This was a conversation he had been mulling over since he had first realized his intentions.
"You needed a little training." Baron answered in too casually a manner for Donatello to believe.
"Right. So what actually happened? Did you get a little scared? Think I was going to rat you out?" Donatello demanded. "So you made a deal with Leonardo to kill me so your hands would be clean? What happened to 'why destroy something when you can extort it?' Did you have a sudden change of heart?"
Donatello reconsidered his choice of words.
"Oh wait, you don't have one. My bad."
Baron's lip curled up into a sneer.
"You've become mighty brash, haven't you?" Baron questioned.
"So have you. What makes you think killing me will bring you silence?" Donatello asked with a rare tone of pride in his voice as he continued. "You kill me, and Shredder will know of your deceit faster than if it had come from my mouth."
Baron raised an amused eyebrow, obviously calling the turtle's bluff.
"And how's that? The last time I checked, as smart as you are, even you cannot make a corpse talk." Baron stated.
"No, but I can program every computer in this building to recieve a series of files I've arranged depicting your guilt and treachery if I don't supply the password every day at a certain time to ward it off." Donatello informed him smugly. "That's pretty close to a talking corpse if you ask me. And much more efficient."
Baron scowled and looked at him with an expression of loathing that Donatello had grown far too accustomed to as of late before his expression became one of thought, a train that Donatello was quick to intercept.
"And before you think of it, we both know that Stockman doesn't have the skills necessary to decipher and delete those files." Donatello said confidently. "Or else, you would have gone to him with your blackmail."
The scowl was back in full force now.
"Thought of everything, haven't you?" Baron spat out, obviously furious at his inability to find a loophole in Donatello's work.
"You wanted me for my intelligence, this is the price you pay." Donatello smirked. He had thought of the idea as leverage, a kind of sheild to ensure that Baron wouldn't try to try his hand again with one of the other turtles.
This way, they would be on even footing.
Donatello tried to steel forward, forcing himself to appear much more confident than he actually was.
"So I'm going down there and I'm going to fix them up and you're going to let me." Donatello said, trying not to think about how obnoxiously bold he was being right now. "Or those files are being released today."
Donatello held his breath as he studied the man's expression closely, watching for any sign that he was about to attack or refuse, but found only fury with no action to support it.
Slowly, while keeping his eyes on Baron at all times, Donatello moved past Baron and out the door, quickly running in the direction of his room. He stayed only long enough to grab his meager amount of medical supplies- doubting that he had enough for all three of the turtles and yet knowing that he couldn't well march into the infirmary and get more supplies. It took him an arm and a leg to get these!- before running back the way he came and down the stairs he had been dragged from.
There were two ninja standing guard outside the door but gave him no trouble as he walked into the cages.
Donatello eyed the cage's occupants and quickly assessed Raphael's unconscious form first and determined that he was relatively in safe condition, all things considered.
Michelangelo was sitting on the floor, watching him with dull, tired eyes that spoke of exhaustion. He had obviously been trying to keep a lookout for the third, unaccounted for brother.
"Where's Leonardo?" Donatello asked.
In response, the turtle in orange looked behind him at the entrance that he had just walked through.
Donatello sighed before opening the door and facing the guard.
"Go to Dr. Roland and bring back Leonardo." Donatello ordered.
"But he was just taken t-" the guard started, but Donatello was quick to cut him off.
"I don't care. Go get him. Master Baron's orders."
The guard hesitated slightly, but didn't dare call his bluff with Baron's name involved and quickly nodded and went off to do as he was directed.
Sighing, Donatello opened Raphael's cell and walked inside, kneeling beside the unconscious turtle.
As much as he didn't want to see Michelangelo in further pain, he knew that he had a much better shot of not being attacked by the mutant in front of him if said mutant was asleep when he began to treat his wounds.
Michelangelo would have to hold out a little longer until he was done with Raphael. If he could spare it, he would give the poor turtle something for the pain when he got to him.
Donatello noticed the cuts and contusions that lined his body along with what was either a dislocated shoulder or a broken one.
Donatello used the last of his gauze and wrap to patch up the gashes and whatever else he could reach before steeling himself to look at the red clad turtle's shoulder. He didn't dare touch it but determined that it was indeed only dislocated, but would have to be popped back into place so that it could be given the chance to properly heal.
Donatello took a deep breath and without allowing himself to think it through, promptly snapped Raphael's shoulder back into place.
It was a testimate to his all-too-exhausted state that the only response he recieved from the usually ill-tempered turtle was a low, pained groan.
Donatello tensed in expectation of an attack that didn't come before he heard Leonardo's cage opened and shut again and heard the guard muttering something before leaving the way he came.
Donatello hesitated only slightly before moving onto Michelangelo and opening his cage, ignoring Leonardo for the moment, but that didn't last for long.
"What are you doing?" Leonardo demanded, becoming more anxious as Donatello crouched near his brother.
Donatello held up his hands in a peaceful manner.
"Baron knows I'm here. I'm just here to help, I'm not taking anyone." Donatello told him, not seeing a reason to inform him of exactly how Baron knew he was here.
The leader watched him for a moment.
"Why?" He asked, his voice both curious and stern.
Donatello sighed and looked at Leonardo out of the corner of his eye, unable to bring himself to look the other turtle in the eye.
"Call it my penance." Donatello muttered as he turned back to Michelangelo.
Though he had his fair share of bruising as well, what concerned Donatello most was the deep stab wound on the turtle's thigh that was partially covered with his orange mask.
The mask itself was soaked with both old and new blood and Donatello shuddered to think of the infection that the mask could bring into the poor turtle's body.
Donatello gently unwrapped the mask, apologizing at the whimper that escaped the smaller turtle as he did.
Donatello looked back at his supplies.
He might have enough stitching equipment for the leg, but what if Leonardo was worse? What would he do then? But Donatello knew that if he didn't take care of Michelangelo's leg, if it wasn't already, it would quickly become infected in this cell.
Donatello gathered up his remaining stitching supplies, had Michelangelo take something for the pain- which he took without hesitation, to Donatello's surprise- and began to clean and stitch the wound in quick, neat movements.
Once he was done, having used the remaining of his stitching supplies, Donatello glanced around for something to use to tie the wound off with, only to remember that he had used the last of his wrap on Raphael.
Just as he was about to look in his supplies again for something, anything, to use, Leonardo passed him a cloth through the bars.
It took Donatello a minute to realize that it was Raphael's mask, and even longer to realize said turtle was awake and had removed his garmet and was nursing his shoulder.
"Can you use that?" He grunted.
Donatello nodded. "Don't move your shoulder too much, it was dislocated."
"Really, brainiac? Couldn't tell." Raphael growled, but stopped trying to move his shoulder.
Donatello took the mask from Leonardo and quickly and efficiently tied it off around Michelangelo's leg.
"Brainiac?" Donatello asked, unable to help the laugh that escaped him. "Where did that come from?"
Raphael shrugged. "Would you rather me call you an assh-"
"Enough, Raph." Leonardo suddenly cut him off sternly.
Donatello smiled at the antics, then dropped it when he remembered why they were in this predicament in the first place.
He gathered his supplies and moved onto Leonardo, immediately realizing that his fear was indeed founded when he sighted the gruesome wound on the turtle's arm.
Sighing at his luck, Donatello unwrapped the turtle's mask from his arm, which was probably what had allowed him to keep a majority of his blood thus far, and attempted to clean the wound as best as he could.
Leonardo flinched as the cloth touched his leg but surprisingly kept himself still long enough for Donatello to clean it to his satisfaction.
"Donatello, we still need to talk." Leonardo said pleadingly. "Please."
Donatello was quick to cut him off, already thinking that he knew what this would be about.
"There's really nothing I can do. Sorry." His tone was cold as he glared at Leonardo.
He couldn't very well say that Jones was going to come for them, not when they could accidentally spill this information and then that could lead back to him.
"It's not about that." Leonardo assured him quickly, seeming almost desperate to keep him listening. "It's about what we needed to talk to you about on the roof."
Donatello tensed at the reminder but looked at Leonardo anyway.
Suddenly, Donatello wasn't all that interested in knowing what they wanted to talk about. What did it matter when they were in such disrepair?
"Look, I know you probably don't want to talk to us, or maybe you can't." Leonardo allowed as Donatello distracted himself with vainly attempting to find something to wrap his arm with.
"Take this." Donatello ordered, shoving a pain pill in his hand before giving one to a reluctant Raphael as well.
"Donnie-" Raphael started but Donatello cut him off with a glare.
"Take it." He repeated. "You too."
Leonardo obliged and swallowed the tablet and Raphael followed suite.
"Now will you listen to me?" Leonardo demanded, wincing as Donatello grabbed his arm, though he had been trying to be gentle.
"I don't think you understand," Donatello muttered under his breath. "I really can't talk."
"What do you mean you can't talk?" Michelangelo's voice suddenly rang out, making Donatello jump. "You're talking right now!"
"That's not what he meant, you bonehead." Raphael growled.
It was a poor excuse and did nothing to derail the all too-driven Leonardo.
"Then don't talk." Leonardo begged. "Just listen. That's all you need to do."
Donatello glanced up and met the turtle's eyes, which bore into him pleadingly much the same way they had on the rooftop.
Donatello ground his teeth together in fustration before glancing at the door. When he saw no one there, he turned back to Leonardo almost angrily.
"You have from the time I find something to tie that wound up with to talk." He stated. "No later."
The leader in blue swallowed the sudden fear that had gotten lodged in his throat and glanced at his red banded brother.
This was the chance they had been waiting for, the opportunity to explain everything to Donnie.
So why was he almost too afraid to do it?
Fear and Leo did not mix and the leader was quick to beat the feeling back.
Deep breath, Leo thought. Just tell him.
Leo had planned in his mind a perfect scenario where he carefully explained what had happened eleven years ago, at which he would have gently eased Donnie into the realization that they were his brothers and that he didn't belong here.
But unfortunately, his youngest brother hadn't gotten the memo that Leo was the designated spokesman of the three and effectively ruined that plan.
"You're our brother!" The youngest sang out suddenly with a level of excitement that only he was capable of.
There was a beat of dead silence before two voices simultaneously yelled,
"Mikey!"