A/N: Thanks to Ravenshell for being my beta and Lydjachan for listening to my endless plotting, lol. :)

Chapter 27

"…D….wake, bro?..."

Sounds pull me away from the comforts of silence.

"Guys! ….waking up. …hurry… come on, D! "

The sound is actually a persistent voice. My body is abruptly shaken, further breaking up the thick fog and grounding me to my surroundings.

Mikey? ….is what I try to say but unfortunately it comes out as a groan instead. My eye is briefly pried open allowing bright light to flood my cornea. Hissing, I squeeze my eyes shut to block out the offending light. There's small yelp and shuffling as another voice comes into my hearing range.

"Stop that. Wouldja give him some space? No one wants to wake up seeing your ugly mug."

Feeling heavy with exhaustion, I find myself slowly drifting back into oblivion until a voice penetrates my sanctuary of silence once again.

"Donatello, you have rested long enough. It is time for you to wake up." I try to mentally distance myself from the voices around me, to rewrap myself in this cloak of unconsciousness, but pressure is suddenly applied to my neck. It doesn't hurt, but it's enough to cause discomfort and ruin my plans of drifting back to sleep. "Open your eyes, Donatello."

As much as sleep calls for me, I know I can't hide in this in-between space of cognizance forever. When I open my eyes again, the room is dim. I'm in the medbay of my lab. Master Splinter is sitting beside my bed. My brothers are here too. Mikey's practically bouncing on the balls of his feet; Raph is leaning grumpily against the wall; and Leo is motionless near the light switch. They're all in here just... staring at me. If they're all in my lab and I'm on the sickbed I can only assume I am injured in some way. The more awake I am the more the throbbing pain in my head makes itself known.

"What happened?" My brothers exchange looks with expressions I can't interpret in the dimness of my lab. When I try to sit up, Master Splinter's paw gently presses against my plastron until my head meets the pillow again.

"What do you remember?" Sensei implores with a tone that's too level and calm.

My temple pulls with the tightness of stitches when I scrunch my brows trying to jog my memory. "I was hit in the head?" It's a question, not really a statement of certainty. It would explain the headache and memory fog.

"Yeah, bruh. That hoe was pretty brutal." Mikey's answer gains him a smack on the back of the head by Raph. I'm not sure why a prostitute would want to hit me, or when Mikey started picking up on crude terminology.

"You had the head injury when we found you on the roof. We were hoping you could tell us what happened." Leo's voice is also too calm.

"How long have I been unconscious?"

"Most of the day."

"What time is it?" My eyes narrow in suspicion.

"It's about 6pm." Leo's being pretty tight-lipped. They're hiding something. They aren't telling me something, hoping I will figure it out, but what? ….what is it that I should—

A tightness in my left arm puts a stop to my train of thought. I try to wiggle my fingers but they feel strange and restricted. Looking down at my arm, I squint trying to see it better in the dim lighting. It looks large and lumpy, and it feels heavy when I try to lift it.…..is there a cast on my arm?

"Turn on the lights." The words leave my mouth in a rushed whisper.

"Perhaps you should tell us what you remem—"

"Turn on the lights!" my voice heightens as I feel the rough contours of my arm… It's not a cast…. it's not a cast.… something's wrong with my arm….

Sensei nods and Leo flips the light switch. I blink until my eyes adjust to the fluorescent lights. A harsh gasp explodes from my chest as I stare at what was once my arm.

I can't help but recoil from the sight of my hideous appendage. My elbow pad and wrappings have been removed. My arm's twice the size it should be and covered in discolored brown spots. With my right hand, I trace the deep ridges and jagged rises along my left arm. As I curl my fingers, my thick claws scrape against the palm of my hand.

I'm mutating into a monster. Those five words open up a stream of images in my mind. Within moments, I remember everything with the sharpest of clarity. Meeting April at the clinic, attacking Sensei….

The sewer worker…..

My stomach flips as images of flesh snapping and ripping from human bones assault my memories. I killed that man….. tore him apart like a lion devouring the carcass of its prey. Everything happened so fast…. I remember the rooftop… my brothers… they…. they came for me. We were going home, but my arm…. the pain was excruciating…. and then there was darkness….. I was ready to lock myself away, bury myself so deep within my conscious I would never hurt anyone else, but they wouldn't let me. My family came for me. They saw the horrors of my deed and yet there's no katana at my throat ready to end my miserable existence.

They came for me.

Even with this touching sentiment, the stark reality of my situation sinks its talons into my soul, digging up a fear I can't ignore. I'm turning into a monster.

Tossing the sheets from my body, my mind slams into the present as I quickly stand on shaky legs. "I need to obtain a epidermis sample and—"

Before I can take a single step, Raph is in front me, pushing me down with enough force to make the bed squeak beneath me. "Hey, you wanna slow down on the crazy and tell us what the shell is going on?" Raph demands, crossing his arms over his plastron.

"Raphael, control your tongue." Splinter chastises him. Raph's livid but I suppose he has every right to be. "Donatello, now would be a good time to enlighten us on your current situation."

Suddenly, I feel very small in front of my family as I painfully force down the panic and fear from my chest and let it settle back down in the pit of stomach. Pull yourself together, Don… I've put my family through enough. The least I can do is tell them the truth without falling to pieces like an unstable compound.

His pupils shrink to pinpoints as his entire skin changes color like it did on the rooftop. His olive color drains into light tint of green—more white than green. It's a quiet sound, but I hear the small catch in his breathing as his gaze takes him somewhere far from us. It's a gaze so haunted I know he reliving that horrible moment in the sewers. He's on the verge of breaking but this time I'm here and I won't let him do it alone. I take a step closer to the bed, ready to be the big brother he needed me to be months ago but suddenly the fear and panic leave his eyes and the expression is wiped from his face like words from a chalkboard.

"Donnie?" Hearing his name immediately brings him back to the here and now as his skin changes back to its olive green hue, as if he wasn't about to have a panic attack. Any emotional trauma that started to show is eerily shut down within seconds. He immediately goes into a straightforward explanation of the past few months.

"I have an acute case of Mutagenic Radiation Poisoning." His voice is calm and monotone. "MRP for short."

"What exactly does that mean, Donatello?" I ask, narrowing my gaze in concern.

"Mutagen behaves in a similar manner of nuclear radiation. Exposure to nuclear radiation breaks down the biological structure of an organism. Depending on the length of time and amount of exposure, it usually results in some form of cancer in a living organism and if left untreated will shut down vital organs until the organism is deceased. I recently discovered mutagen holds similar properties; extreme exposure to mutagen over an extended period of time can drastically alter an organism's DNA."

"Dude, you touched mutagen? That's like your number one rule: Mikey, don't touch the mutagen!" My youngest brother emphasizes pulling a whiny face to impersonate Donnie.

Donnie shakes his head. "No, I never touched it. Mutagen has radioactive qualities and interacts with organic objects through wavelengths."

"So, mutagen radiation….. mutated your arm? " I ask, rubbing my chin. I need to understand what's going on with Donatello. I try to block out the images of my brother ripping the flesh off of Frank Vass.

"…Yes." He answers slowly as he covers his deformed arm with his normal one. His evasive answers don't go unnoticed.

"Well, Raph, Mikey, and I have been exposed to mutagen just as long as you have and nothing's happened to us." I question his reasoning, hoping to pull more answers from him.

"Actually, I've been in much closer proximity of mutagen for much longer periods of time in my lab. I've studied mutagen for the past year and spent more hours than I can count trying to recreate the retromutagen." He pauses a moment, trying to gauge our responses, but I keep my body still and my expressions to a minimum. Sensei, Mikey, and I are in a semi-circle around the sickbed. Raph is the farthest away, leaning against the doorframe. I can see the muscles clenched like taut rope along his jawline. I give Raph a meaningful look to knock it off, but he ignores me. Even as I try to remain outwardly stock still, I can't help but worry about this mutagenic radiation poisoning. It doesn't seem like something to be taken lightly.

"Mutagen in the form of radiation bonds to atoms differently than skin to skin contact…it has a slower reaction. By the time I figured out what was happening to me, it was too late. The mutation was already in progress."

"So, the growth spurt, appetite, and color changing…"

"Yes, they are all symptoms of the radiation bonding with my DNA, and….wait, did you say color change?" He looks at me, confusion creasing his brow. I point at his hand which is currently blending with the white sheet it's resting on. When he lifts his hand for a closer look, it slowly changes back to its original color. "Oh." There's a look of both concern and fascination playing across his face.

"Where's the rest of the mutagen?" If mutagen is powerful enough to affect Donnie just by being in close vicinity, then it shouldn't be in the lab at all.

"I locked the rest of the canisters in the steel cabinet." He nods toward the large metal cabinet that's near the back of the lab. "I'm deducing the metal will be strong enough to serve as somewhat of a protective barrier to prevent anyone else from being poisoned." With a nod, I sigh through my nostrils. It shouldn't be in the lair, anywhere near our family, but the metal cabinet will have to do until we find a safe way to dispose of it.

"At least it's only your arm, bro. What if your face mutated instead and you ended up looking like Raph?...ow!" Mikey rubs the back of his head after Raph gives him a well-placed smack.

"Unfortunately, the transformation is far from over. On a cellular level, my DNA is still rapidly breaking down and reconstructing itself. The observable rate of change has recently accelerated. I've concluded that one of two outcomes will occur: I will either continue to mutate into… this," he emphasizes by extending his mutated arm, "or the poison will ultimately shut down my vital organs and…" He doesn't have to say the rest. When I see the sobering look on his face, I understand the gravity of the situation. His calmness as he explains all of this is unnatural. He's suffered through this for months….his body's changing, his emotions completely unhinged, and he ate an innocent human less than 24 hours ago, yet he's talking to us like he's giving a lecture at a college. Most would think he's handling this well, but I know better. I restrain myself from questioning his emotional state. There will be time for that once we figure out this mutagen radiation issue.

"Can't you just use retromutagen to reverse the breakdown?" I nod at Mikey's hopeful idea.

"I can't use the same formula that I used for the retromutagen. Because of its antimutagen nature, it will only returns subjects back to their original pre-mutated DNA structure, which in my case will be a pet turtle. It's either full mutation or full reversion, there is no in-between."

"You ain't as smart as you think you are, Brainiac." This time my glare makes contact with Raph. His scowl softens as he looks at the floor. "….I… I mean…. you know, just 'cause you ain't figured it out doesn't mean it can't be done or whatever." He stumbles over his words trying to save face.

"I've exhausted every alternative for the past month and—"

My neck whips around to face Donnie. Did he just say a month? He's known about this poison in his body for a month?...

A coolness scrubs over my skin as everyone stares at Donnie in silence. Judging from the wide-eyed look on his face, he hadn't intended to tell us.

"Un-freakin'-believable…." Raph mutters between grinding teeth. He palms his face and looks heavenward shaking his head.

"Donnie…. you've known this for a month?" The corners of my mouth pull into a frown as a mixture of hurt and guilt settle in my chest.

"Maybe a little longer," he mutters, clutching his arm. The shame is evident on his face as he avoids looking us.

"How long have you known, Donatello?" Our father's stern voice forces Donnie to answer more truthfully.

"Approximately six weeks."

For six weeks, Donnie dealt with this… suffering through this sickness by himself. My heart aches at how much I've failed my younger brother. When did he stop coming to me for help? When did he feel the need to handle this on his own? ...When did he stop trusting me?

I hang my head in remorse. This is my fault. My omission and dishonesty are the cause of my family's disappointment and grief.

"You mean this whole time I was helping you in the lab…. it was…. you were…" My little brother struggles to wrap his mind around my deceit.

"Mikey, it's not what you think, I—"

"The Kraang files weren't really for retromutagen…. they were for you, weren't they?"

"Just… just let me expla—"

"Weren't they?!" he yells at me, his face flushed as tears stream unabashed down his face.

I nod doggedly until I swallow and find my voice again. "Yes, Mikey. They… they were for me."

"You lied to me…" He might as well have kicked me in the face with that moroseful accusation.

"Mikey, I'm so—"

"I'm smart enough to be your lab flunky, but too stupid to tell you were dying?"

"No! Of course not!"

His light blue eyes wobble with more tears revealing just how upset my little brother is. I never meant to hurt him, I was only trying to protect...

Myself.

There's no point denying my selfishness. I was only protecting myself from my own insecurities... From my fear of being rejected by the one person I knew wouldn't turn his back on me. I've been wrong about so many things over the past few months. Wrong about my father's teachings; wrong for the way I treated my brothers... For the way I underestimated Mikey's constancy.

He glares at me as much as he can through glossy eyes and his anger is almost convincing until a harsh sob erupts from his lips. Without thinking, I reach out to him with my clawed hand but he backs away retreating from the lab. There's an abrupt door slam that seems to echo through the room.

"I'll check on 'im," Raph mutters with a sigh, turning on his heels as he beelines out of the lab as well.

It's shamefully silent for a few moments before Sensei speaks. "You said you have tried alternatives. Have any of your findings been fruitful?"

I shake my head negatively. "I don't have a cure, but I'm working on an inhibitor. It… it won't stop the symptoms, but it should slow them down enough for you guys to decide what to do." Now might be a good time to mention the Pentobarbital. They should know every option available.

Leo frowns and something fervent and bright glistens in his eyes. "What do you mean decide what to do?" He gives me this knowing look and I return it with a confused one. "There's nothing to decide; we'll find a way to fix this and that's that…. no drastic decisions need to be made, okay?" His cryptic words give me pause. If I didn't know any better I would have thought he already knew what I was thinking. "April's dad is a scientist, maybe he can help."

"No!" The outburst comes out louder than I intended, but I don't want April or her father involved…. I've hurt April enough as it is.

"Leonardo, call Mr. O'Neil. Donatello, now is not the time for shame or bruised pride."

I nod looking down at my large feet. He's right. April told me after being kidnapped by the Kraang, her father pretty much immersed himself in subjects of biology and genetics. There is a possibility, no matter how small, that Mr. O'Neil may hold some knowledge to reversing this poison in my body, but I also can't deny the scientific probability behind my slim chances of survival. When Leonardo steps out to call April, it's just me and Master Splinter. I can feel his eyes grazing over my body.

"Do you still hear the darkness?"

I'm a little taken back by his forwardness; I was hoping not to discuss that 'spiritual' experience ever, but my curiosity is slowly overriding my discomfort of the topic.

"Uh, no…. not anymore." Pausing a moment, I try to reorganize what happened into a logical query. "The healing meditation you showed me when we were… 'there'….. how… how does it work?"

He hums softly to himself. "The same way science is used to create medicine for the body, meditation, prayers, and affirmations are used to provide healing for the mind and spirit.

"I know, but how does it work? I mean for weeks that voice tormented me and all it took was repeating a few healing words gets rid of it? Logically, it just doesn't make sense."

"The soul is a curious thing. There is indeed logic of the soul, things that intellect alone cannot comprehend, the logic of hope, faith, and love—the matters of the heart. The mind, body, and soul are equally important. When one fails, the remaining two will carry the burden until the three elements are once again balanced."

"What if two elements fail? ...the mind and body for example." I ask, hypothetically.

He gives me an encouraging smile. "As I said, my son, the soul is a curious thing. The willful soul will push the mind and body to persevere through the most impossible trials. Do you understand what I am telling you, Donatello?"

Nodding, I rest my tongue between my gap. "I think so…. I think I understand 'soul logic' better than I ever thought I would." I offer a morose smile. Unfortunately, experience was a harsh teacher, and me, an unwilling student. "Sensei, I'm…. I'm sorry for not taking your lessons on spiritual refinement seriously. I should have listened years ago when you tried to teach me to strengthen my spiritual awareness, then maybe—"

A comforting hand on my disfigured shoulder is enough to lessen the bitter taste of regret on my tongue. "It will profit you nothing to dwell on past mistakes." He gives me a knowing look and I know he's referring to more than just my stubbornness. My mind briefly flits to the carnage in the sewer and my stomach churns like a washing machine's agitator. I swallow back the nausea. "We must press forward for solutions."

I clear my throat and refocus my thoughts. "Speaking of solutions, you mentioned the wall was only temporary…." His expression sobers as he confirms my words with a nod.

"Yes, the wall is only meant to block negativity and spiritual sickness for a short period of time."

I release a slow sigh. Even after seeing the spiritual manifestation of the mutagenic radiation coursing through my body, it's a lot to take in. My world of science and logic has betrayed me, deserted me for a metaphysical world of souls and emotional sensitivity that I'm still not sure how to fully accept.

"How will I know if the wall starts to 'fall', for lack of better words?"

"Some describe the feeling as an itch they cannot scratch. You should continue to meditate with the healing hands mantra to keep the wall strong." With hesitation I nod. What if meditation isn't enough? ...what if that abomination takes over my mind again and—

"It is alright to be afraid."

"I'm not." I answer more quickly than I intended. Taking a deep breath I steady my thoughts and the tingles of fright forming a layer of static over my body. "….I'm just thinking is all."

"Talking is also helpful." He looks at me hopefully, but the suggestion only makes me clamp my lips together and fidget with the calloused scales on my left arm. I hunch over as he sighs, because I know he expects more from me.

"Very well. For now, you will rest." My mind is still reeling from everything. I can't seem to form the words to object to his command, so I ease myself back under the sheet and allow my father to reposition my pillow. "Donatello, it is important that you tell me if you feel the wall begin to slip."

"Hai, Sensei."

He turns off half the lights, leaving me in the dimness of my lab. I almost ask him to stay, but the plea dies on my lips with a hushed breath as I pull the covers under my chin. The dull ache in the arm cuff of my shell makes me turn on my right side to relieve the pressure off my mutated arm. I thought telling my family the truth would take some kind of proverbial burden off my shoulders, but it only makes my stomach queasy and head hurt. Even in my honesty I still feel like I've let everyone down.

Moments after closing my eyes, images of my family being slaughtered at my hands assault the inside of my eyelids. I sit up as rigid as a jackknife, my hands clutching the sheets as they fall to my lap. My temple throbs where the stiches are but it doesn't compare to the cement-like weight pounding in the back of my mind. Okay, sleep is out of the question. Yawning, I slip out of bed and with sluggish legs make my way over to my desk. I decide gathering my mutagen notes for Mr. O'Neil will be a better use of my time as I awkwardly pluck at my computer's keyboard with my right hand.

TBC...

A/N: As always, thanks for reading my story thus far. Don't forget to leave a review! I love reading your speculations and thoughts, and knowing people are still reading this story means a lot.

See you next chapter! :)

Poetique