A Million Miles Apart

A/N: New update! And I'm really excited about this chapter, because after this I can finally put the story in motion- the real story! And I hope you'll look forward to see how it turns out.

Hope you'll enjoy this chapter and please review, favorite and follow!

Chapter 18, Problem With The Prime Leader

I closed the door behind me, leaned back against the cold metal and sighed heavily. Alone again. Just how I liked it right now, when I had a hard time trying to comfort and look after everyone. Splinter was still just as heartbroken as he had been for the last week, and I really couldn't blame him. Losing one child is bad enough, but losing another one? And a child that he had gotten to know too? Okay, I'm not saying that losing Karai was a better thing than losing Donnie, but he hadn't known her for more than a few weeks and he was probably mostly grieving over how he never really got a chance to love her for who she was, or get to know her. He was probably grieving over what never happened rather than losing a person close to him. But Donnie? He had watched him grow up, had taught him everything he knew and had seen him learn much more than what he propbably had expected. He'd watched him grow and develop into what I'm sure was the best he could imagine for Donnie. That was probably a lot harder and more heartbreaking to lose.

Raph was out again, but this time with Casey. How did I know that? Well, Casey had told me so himself. He had called me and told me about what happened last night with him and Raph. I had been thinking about talking to Raph about almost killing somebody out of anger for actions he saw in himself, but when I thought about it some more, I came to the conclusion that it would be wiser to leave him alone. He was probably beating himself up about it enough already, and on top of having a hard time dealing with Donnie's death, Raph probably wouldn't benefit in the slightest if I went on one of my lectures with him. He was a horrible state of denial and simply refused to believe that Donnie was dead- he kept on trying to convince us that he was alive out there and was trying to come home again. I felt so bad for Raph. He had such a hard time getting through his grief.

And Mikey, well, he was heartbroken as well, but in a different way than Splinter and Raph. He hardly ever smiled anymore; in fact, he barely talked anymore. He simply lied on the couch and watched TV all day without ever actually watching. He just stared at the screen with eyes that were dead to the world. He refused to eat, and if he did eat it was very, very little.

Poor baby brother. He and Donnie had always been so close. Ever since we were little kids, they had always played together and had fun together. Even though Mikey usually decided what they would do, Donnie never seemed like he wasn't enjoying their time together. I guess that was because I argued so much with Raph that the two desperately craved any brotherly attention they could give each other.

Donnie had always been very patient with us, but he had been especially patient with Mikey in particular. He had never gotten too mad at him and had always tried to take time out his day to make sure Mikey was happy. And now he wasn't here to do that. I tried my best to help him and comfort him, but it was painfully obvious that I wasn't Donnie. I could never take Donnie's place. I mean, who am I trying to fool? I didn't want to take his place. I wanted him to be here, with us. I wanted him to come home.

I sighed heavily and tried to hold back tears. I let myself collapse onto my bed, burying my face into the pillow, the bedframe squeaking in protest. I tried to calm down by taking deep breaths, but I still felt a few tears manage to slip through my half-shut eyes.

What can I say about this week that I haven't already said? Donnie hasn't been gone for a week and already it feels like he's been gone for years. I just don't know how to handle all of this; it's just too much and I have no one to really turn to. I know Mikey told me that I don't have to handle all of this on my own, but I don't know what else to do. I don't know who to talk to about how I feel. I guess I could talk to Mikey, maybe April, but I don't know.

"Oh, Donnie..." I whimper to myself and bury my face deeper into the pillow, wrapping my arms around the soft materials and trying to my dry my eyes with the soft cloth. I sat up after a few minutes and take a few deep breaths, then reached out to the nightstand table beside my bed, pulled out one of the drawers and took out a small Space Heroes-themed journal and a pen before leaning back against the pillows and opening the journal to a clean page. I guess you could say that I've found an output for my feelings and emotions.

Journal entry: July 20th, 2014

Hi, Donnie. I know that you'll never read this, but I need to get this off my chest. Ever since that fight we had before we left on patrol, and the fight with the Kraang, I've thought so much about how I've been treating you for the past few months… And how much your death has affected us. Mikey's inconsolable and has practically stopped eating and talking. Heck, he doesn't even smile anymore. It just doesn't feel right to see Mikey not smiling. Raph is still in denial and believes you're out there, somewhere, and refuses to listen to anyone who tries to tell him otherwise. I'll hate to see how he'll take the memorial ceremony that we plan on having next week.

Splinter is heartbroken and won't do anything but sit in his room and meditate and try to push through his grief. And I... Well, I can't say I'm doing so well myself. I just don't have any motivation to do much of anything anymore. I try to train and comfort the others, but I can't say it's doing so much. We all miss you too much.

Donnie, I don't know how we're ever going to be the same without you here. We need you. I need you. And I never realized how much I depended on you until now. Not just because of your smarts, but also because of who you are, and that you're my little brother. You're all my little brothers, but you have always been one of the little brothers- unlike Raph, who always acts like he's so much older than fifteen. You were always full of life and never hesitated to live your life to the fullest. You were young and you acted young, despite your intelligence and your maturity; you always found time to just be a teenager, even if it was after days of endless pressure to grow up and fix all of our problems.

I've realized that that I haven't listened to you much lately, and I don't understand why I haven't. I guess I can say that I've been so caught up with the Kraang being back, finding out that Karai is actually Splinter's daughter and all the other stuff that's happened, but I know it's not a good enough excuse.

For so long I've been thinking of no one but myself and of Karai being with her real father. I know I've said that I just want her to know the truth and for her be with her real family, but I guess I've just been using that as an excuse to get what I wanted. I've been selfish and uncaring about what's right in front of me. And since Raph hasn't been that supportive of the idea and has done nothing but argue with me about whether Karai might be good or not, and Mikey hasn't really cared much about it, I guess I've been taking out my stress and frustrations on you. I was so caught up in my own problems and my own feelings that I failed to see how you felt more and more unhappy and rejected as the weeks passed. My only excuse on that one is that since you've always been there to see the bright side of my problems, I sometimes forget that you have your own problems. And when you tried to talk to me about them, I wasn't there for you, like I should have been. I failed you, little brother, and for that I doubt I'll ever stop being sorry. I took advantage of your optimism and selflessness and willingness to help, and I never offered anything in return. Well, nothing that you deserved after all you had done. I doubt I could ever properly make it up to you, even if you were here with us.

It's hard for me to say, but I don't care much for Karai anymore. At least, not now, anyways. All I know is that I miss you, and that is much bigger than her for the time being. Ever since the day Splinter bought us at that pet store, we've always been together and have always been there for each other. And I never imagined that I would have to face all of the things the future will throw at us without all of my little brothers at my side to support me.

I suppose all I can do is pray that Raph is right, that you're somehow alive out there and will be able to find your way home; but I still know that at some point, I'll have to move on and let this go, even though it'll be the hardest thing I've ever done.

A tear fell from my eye and hit the page, smudging the word 'done,' and I quickly wiped my hand over my face to stop any more tears from falling. I clenched my jaw and tried to keep the sobs at bay as I wrote the final part of my letter before closing it.

I love you, Donnie. I love you more than you'll ever know. I miss you just as much, and I'm so sorry for not showing it to you before. I'm sorry for being too blind to see how much I love and need you.

I closed the journal again and placed it back in the drawer before closing it, then sat with my back against the bed frame, wrapping my arms around my legs and letting my tears fall down my cheeks. But I refused to break down sobbing. Not again. In the corner of my eye, I saw that the book I had borrowed from Donnie was placed on my nightstand table. I remembered that I had finished it a few nights back and put it there afterwards. So I stood up, grabbed the book and walked over to my bookshelf to put it in its place.

Just as I put the book back in its place, I saw the thick, brown leather book that had fallen off of the shelf when I had pulled out Carrie. I thought about it. I couldn't remember ever reading a book that thick of a book made out of leather, so I pulled it out of its place and opened the first page to read the title. But then I saw that it wasn't a book, but a photo album. And I recognised it as the photo album that Splinter had filled with pictures of us from childhood up until now.

I sat down on my bed and started to look through the pages that were filled with pictures of us, and every once in a while I saw a picture with Splinter, April and Casey in them, too. There were four pictures on each page and on the page I currently looked at, they came from (I think) when my brothers and I were in between one and six years old. There was one of Raph and Spike, one of me in the dojo with my first wooden practice sword, one of me with Mikey blowing bubbles in the living room and one with Donnie, holding onto the strap of a big duffle bag stuffed with his books, tools and small toys that I guess he wanted to fix, trying to carry the whole thing by himself, his face scrunched up in determination and effort. I chuckled lightly at his frustrated look, feeling fresh tears starting to form in my eyes.

The next four pictures were of all of us, or at least more than one of us. One was of us when we were around five years old with me, Mikey and Raph in Splinter's arms but with Donnie standing beside Splinter, in the background, almost behind him entirely. I frowned slightly and looked at the next picture. This one was of Raph, Donnie and I when we were three years old, watching some movie on TV. Raph was sitting beside me, but Donnie was sitting almost completely behind me. I narrowed my eyes in confusion and shook my head lightly. What the heck was that about? Another picture was of Raph, carrying Mikey on his back piggyback-style, and I was standing beside them both and smiling at them. In the background, you could see the couch and a glimpse of Donnie reading, eyeing us slightly, as if a bit jealous or at least a little left out. The last one had the three most outgoing of us all sleeping on the couch, Donnie reading a book on the floor. I looked back on all the pictures of us and each and every one had one thing in common: Donnie was always in the background or by himself.

I thought back to when we were kids. I did remember us playing together, all four of us, but I also remember that there were times when Donnie just followed us along and did whatever we told him to do, as if he was scared to speak up. That or he was standing in background, looking at us while we played. But I had never thought much of it. I guess I had always thought that he didn't want to play with us. And as we got older and developed our own interests, we all started to do our own things, on our own; but we still often hung out as brothers do. But Donnie usually stayed in his lab, all alone. When we teased him about it, he always said something along the lines of enjoying the peace and quiet that solitude brought; but when we saw the flicker of sadness in his eyes or heard the obvious falsehood in his voice, we never thought much of it and never acknowledged noticing it in the first place. He didn't speak much unless spoken to, and when he did get bold enough to initiate a conversation, usually about something he had invented- something he loved and obviously just wanted to share with us- we always told him to be quiet or to 'speak English,' which frustrated him to no end. But maybe it had done more than that- maybe it hurt him, too? The other two and I had once discussed what exactly that unknown expression was that he always wore as we (rather rudely) dismissed him back to his lab, but we were unable to figure it out and eventually had dismissed this, as well.

But now, thinking back, I knew exactly what it was and why it was so unfamiliar on Donnie, the optimistic prodigy that he was: it was anger, hurt, a little self-loathing, and, most of all, sadness, all rolled into one. It was a look of utter dejection.

I shook my head, closed the album and stood up from my bed. I wasn't getting anywhere, debating with myself like this. I needed some perspective from somebody on the outside, somebody who knew Donnie well, but not in the same way that my brothers, Splinter or I knew him. And I knew just who to get it from.

"Let go off me! I can walk myself, you know!"

I was shoved through a double door and barely had time to catch my balance before that Triceraton grabbed me by the shoulders again and led me up to a desk where another Triceraton sat with his elbows resting on the table and with a smirk on his face. It didn't take a genius to figure out that this was that 'Prime Leader' they had been talking about ever since I got here. And if I had thought that Gruel was nothing but a lump of walking fat with loud words, boy was this guy worse.

The Prime Leader was a short, fat Triceraton with no muscle on him whatsoever- only pure fat. He was also a lot shorter than most of the Triceratons I had seen so far. A lot shorter. He was, at the moment, eating his dinner, a huge chicken leg (or at least that's what it looked like) and something that I assumed was salad. Watching him was not a pretty sight. He was slobbering and drooling and chewing with his mouth open. He didn't look that smart, dignified, or even strong, something most Triceratons seemed to be. How could a guy like this be the leader of an entire empire? He looked like a slob and somebody that couldn't be trusted with leading a dog down the sidewalk.

In a corner was another Triceraton, one I that recognised as Commander Mozar, one that I had seen only when we were abducted from D'hoonib. A very strong-looking, tall and rather lean Triceraton who had a serious look on his face, his hands behind his back. He almost looked like a statue, he stood so still.

The Prime Leader gazed up from his dinner at the Triceraton guard who had led me in and dropped his chicken leg onto the plate, wiping his mouth with his arm. He looked at me and then back to the other Triceraton.

"What is it? Can't you see that I'm busy eating here? This had better be important!" The guard bowed in respect and placed his clenched fist over his heart. I guess it was their way of greeting their leader.

"I apologise for interrupting, Prime Leader Zanramon, but Master Gruel sent me here and told me bring this kid that was with the Fugitoid." The Prime Leader, apparently named Zanramon, rolled his eyes and waved his hand dismissively at me, his fingers dripping with grease. I had to bite my tongue so I wouldn't say 'EWWW!' or anything else that was equally stupid.

"I have better things to worry about than some snarky kid. The Federation is probably on their way here right now to try and get the Fugitoid back, and we have to prepare for that! I don't care much for some weak little brat! Take him back to his cell and leave me in peace." He started to eat his food again, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes at him. Yeah, wasn't this a GREAT leader? Dismiss a follower before he knew what he wanted to say. If it had been Leo, he would've listened to what this guy had to say before deciding if it was unimportant or not. This guy clearly didn't care, and he was supposed to lead his entire people in comparison to the three brothers and two teenaged humans that Leo did. Sorry, Zanramon, but my fifteen-year-old big brother's got you beat so far when it comes to leadership.

I almost felt tempted to throw up at the sight of his table manners. Key word: tempted. Oh, geez, and here I thought Mikey had bad table manners! This was just plain nasty. At least Mikey could eat without getting half the food all over his face and fingers. I placed my hand over my stomach and stuck my tongue out, making a silent 'yuck' sound when neither the Prime Leader nor Mozar or the guard could see.

The guard took a small step forward and released his grip on my shoulders. I immediately started to massage my neck and shoulders to relieve the slight pain that the grip that left behind. Geez, did everybody in here to try and crush me or injure me, even when they weren't supposed to? It's like Leatherhead all over again, except that this time, the target is more than just my face. I didn't know whether that was a good thing or not.

"Yes, I am aware that the Federation is on their way here, but I have some very important information for you. You will like to hear what I have to say, I guarantee it." He looked up from his meat, rolled his eyes again and gestured for the guard to talk, looking rather impatient. Yeah, great leader right there.

"This child says that he has experience with fighting aliens on his own home planet. And not just any aliens. He's been fighting products of the Kraang's experiments, as well as the Kraang themselves." Zanramon dropped his leg of meat and stared at the guard and then at me with wide, interested eyes. He stood up from his chair, walked up to me and grabbed me by the chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. Man, my chin was going to get calloused soon from how often these Triceratons liked to grab it. I couldn't help but cringe as his fingers smeared grease all over my face and his breath- that smelled worse than moldy food that's been lying around in the sewers for five months- billowed into my nostrils.

"You know of the Kraang? And you've fought them on your home planet?!" I said nothing. I knew that these guys would most likely attack Earth if I said that the Kraang used our planet as their hiding place, so I had to keep quiet. I pressed my lips together and glared up at Zanramon with narrowed eyes. I expected him to get angry, but instead he started to chuckle and let go of my chin.

"Hehe… so you're the quiet, difficult type of prisoner, huh? Well, I've dealt with quite a few of those kinds of prisoners. Don't you worry, I'll get you to talk somehow." He walked up to Mozar, gestured to him to lean down and then whispered something in his ear. I had hold back a laugh. It just looked so ridiculous that the big, tough leader of this alien race had to practically stand on his toes in order to whisper something in his Commander's ear. Mozar nodded to whatever his leader had to say, bowed and then left the room.

Zanramon sat down in his chair again and smirked at me. I suppose I should've been scared or at least a little worried, but I just glared at the Triceraton in front of me and folded my arms over my chest. I refused to look weak. Especially in front of this guy, who I had a hard time taking seriously. But he just smiled ominously at me.

"So, wanna tell me your name, boy? I would like to address you by your name." I just glared at him, narrowed my eyes even more, pressed my lips tighter together and tensed the arms over my chest. Zanramon raised an eyebrow at me, his smile fading slightly, and he looked over at the guard behind me. "Do you know his name, soldier?" The Triceraton shook his head slowly.

"I am not sure, Prime Leader. I believe his name starts with a D. Domino, perhaps? Da Vinci? Dorcas?" I turned around sharply to glare hatefully the guard behind me, anger burning in my eyes. I said I wouldn't talk about the Kraang; I didn't say I couldn't talk at all. I clenched my fists.

"It's Donatello! My name is Donatello! DON-A-TELL-O! Donatello! Get it right, you moron!" Zanramon chuckled at me, intertwined fingers supporting his chin. He seemed to be enjoying this for some reason.

"Well then, Donatello, would you be so kind as to tell us what you know of the Kraang? I assure you that if you tell us, I will let you and your friends go; you can leave this prison behind and never return." I raised my eyebrow at him and once again gently folded my arms over my chest.

"Where is Professor Honeycutt? What have you done to him?!" Zanramon kept his smug smile and shook his head slightly. He stood up from his chair, walked up to me, pinched my cheek and shook it slightly, making me frown and try to pull my head away as I grimaced in disgust.

"All in good time, my boy; all in good time. But first, please, do tell me what you know. I promise that I will let you leave this prison." I pulled my face away from his grip and returned my good arm to cross over my chest, injured arm limply resting on top of it.

"Well, thank you for your offer, Zanramon, but I wasn't born yesterday, nor am I a complete nincompoop, thank you very much. How exactly am I supposed to know that you will hold your end of the bargain if I tell you what I know? And even if you do intend to keep your word, why should I believe you? So far your people have not exactly been all that kind or cautious with me or my friends, so why should I believe that you would be so kind as to let us go?" Zanramon smirked, walked back to his chair and sat down again.

"That is a very good question, Donatello. Well, you see, my people has had a, well, a bone to pick with the Kraang for quite some time, since they robbed us of our home world. We only want to pay them back for what they did to us. You would be doing us a favour." I took a deep breath. I had to be calm, collected, and think this through. If I said the wrong thing, it could mean disaster for me, my friends or for Earth. So I lowered my arms and tried to look less defensive.

"I... I guess I can understand why you want to hunt them down and get revenge on them for what they did, but I don't know if I can tell you what I know about the Kraang. I'm sorry, but I just don't trust you enough to tell you." The guard grabbed me by the shoulder again and looked up at his leader.

"Shall I give him a whipping? That might make him talk." But Zanramon raised his hand and shook his head.

"Oh, no, no, no. That won't be necessary. I can handle this just fine without any threats of force." He turned back to me. "Now, I understand your suspicion against my people. But I'm sure you understand that this is a simple task. All you really have to do is tell me where the Kraang are and you may go free, along with your friends." Suddenly the doors opened again and Mozar walked in, a familiar robot in tow.

"Get your hands off of me! I have one more day before the deadline your leader set for me, now let me go-!" The Professor! I was caught off guard and I tried to run up to him, but the guard still had his hand on my shoulder, which held me back. But it didn't stop me from using my voice.

"Professor!" The robot looked up eyes widening. Or, well, as much as they could, anyway, seeing as he didn't have any eyelids.

"Donatello? What are you doing here? Where is Jhanna?" Before I could answer, Zanramon interrupted me and he walked up to us. He grabbed me by the chin- ew ew ew ew!- and looked me in the eyes again. These creatures were all about forced eye contact. His eyes were a disgusting mustard yellow that I could honestly go without seeing ever again.

"Now you listen up, here! I tried to be nice, but now I will have to be hard on you. If you won't take my offer, then I'm sorry to say that the robot will executed." I turned to the Professor, then back to Zanramon again. He had made a small mistake now, and I had been quick to catch it, as usual.

"Oh, and here I thought you needed him. For what? Oh, yeah, for fighting off the Federation, right? I thought he was important to you." But, much to my surprise, he just started laughing aloud, throwing his back to an odd angle from he was laughing too hard. When he had stopped laughing, he turned back to me and dried away a few tears that had formed in his eyes.

"Need him? That robot isn't worth anything more than a few rusty screws. No, no no, we don't need him at all. But the Federation has tried to overthrow us for a long time, and we cannot have that, can we? So, we have to stop them in every way we can. By taking a very dangerous weapon from them, for example. That way they'll stay as weak as they are until we have time to squash them like the lowly bugs they are. No other aliens will be stronger, mightier or more powerful than the Triceratons! No other aliens at all!" I inwardly sighed at first; redundant Triceraton is redundant. Then the meaning of his words crashed down on me. That hadn't worked as well as I had hoped it would. And I slowly started to become desperate.

"Yeah, but if that's what you're willing to do to another alien race just because they want to overthrow you- just a small nuisance to your mighty people- then what does that mean for my home planet? What does that mean for the people of Earth? What are you going to-" I realized my mistake too late and gasped slightly as Zanramon stopped short when he heard me say 'Earth.' He turned to me, quicker than lightning.

"What did you say? Earth? Is that your home planet? Are the Kraang hiding there?" I gulped and slowly took a step backwards.

"Uh, did I say Earth? Oh, no, that's not my-" I backed away from him, but he just followed me and backed me up against a wall.

"The Kraang have been hiding on a different planet all this time! What a fool I am! I should have realized that they would hide on an underdeveloped planet where we couldn't track them down! Genius on their part, but it won't save them!" He turned to Mozar, who still had a grip on the Professor. "Tell the scientists to find as much information on Earth as they can. Forget about the Fugitoid and the Federation! Tell them to start looking for The Black Heart!" I felt my blood freeze in my veins; I could barely breathe. What was he planning to do? I turned to the Professor, who looked equally scared. But he shook his head at me. He clearly didn't know what they were talking about.

"What are you talking about? What are you going to do to my planet?!" I yelled at him, feeling the panic and fear start to take control of me. Zanramon looked down at me again and sneered.

"Thank you, my boy! Thanks to you, we can finally put an end to the Kraang, once and for all! Your planet, however, is too infected with the Kraang's influence, so I am afraid it'll have to be destroyed. Nothing personal, but we simply cannot allow the Kraang to survive in any way. No hard feelings, kid." I felt my entire world shatter and I could barely stand up anymore. I felt tears of fear, anger and panic form in my eyes and I while I tried to fight them off, I felt a few fall down my cheeks. I flew onto Zanramon's arm and tried to hold him back, but from what I wasn't sure. I was acting purely on instinct now.

"NO! I won't let you do this! You can't destroy my planet! There are innocent people there! People that have done you no harm! You can't do this!" Zanramon grabbed my bad arm and, while the pain distracted me, threw me to be caught by the guard.

"Take them both back to the prison! I will enjoy seeing them both executed tomorrow in the fight!" He turned back to Mozar, who still hadn't left the room. "Gather as many soldiers as you can and tell them to get ready to leave. We will all leave first thing after the morning fight tomorrow! I will take the pleasure of seeing these two and the princess of D'hoonib die before I set off to destroy that Kraang infested planet." Mozar bowed and left the room.

I felt the guard behind me grab me by the shell again as he started to drag me away. He had the Professor's arm in the other hand. But I still tried to fight back, even though I knew it was all in vain. I bit, kicked, punched and screamed at the top of my lungs to try and get away. I was hysterical, inconsolable, feral. Before the door closed, I saw Zanramon smirk evilly, almost sardonically, at me.

"Thank you, Donatello. I couldn't have done this without you." I felt my heart stop beating, tears falling down my cheeks, and I stopped fighting the Triceraton's grip on me. It was pointless. And I knew that Zanramon was right. If I had just stayed quiet, thought my words over and not said things without thinking, this wouldn't have happened. I had lost my cool, I had been caught off guard, and my brain had stopped functioning as it should. And that had cost a lot more than it should have.

There was no point in doing anything anymore. If I didn't have my planet, my home, or my family; there was no point in living anymore. If I couldn't find a way to stop the Triceratons, so I might as well let this world be done with me.

My family, my home, my planet- my everything was doomed. Earth was doomed. And it was all my fault.

A/N: Uh oh! We're in some serious trouble now, and how are we going to get out of it? Well, you'll just have to keep reading! I just hope this wasn't too rushed, but if it is, I apologize but I really wanted to get this done.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter and please review, favorite and follow! G'night everybody!