A/N: Special thanks to Ravenshell for being an awesome beta!

Chapter 46

I gathered everyone together in the pit to tell them my plan.

"Are you crazy? ...Wait, lemme rephrase that: You're crazy!"

"April, that plan has absolutely no strategy. You'll get yourself killed."

"Your intent is honorable, but I am afraid I cannot allow this."

These were not the responses I was expecting. The only ones who weren't bashing my idea into the ground were Mikey, who looks just as disappointed as I feel, and Donnie, who's been a bit out of it since our lab conversation.

"Well, do any of you have a better idea?" I huff, crossing my arms, completely at my wit's end. "I can do this, I know I can."

"If Sensei couldn't kill that thing with us there to back him up, what makes you think you can do it by yourself?" I quirk a brow at Raph's challenge.

"Because Master Splinter can't do this." With a grunt I lift Raphael at least a foot off the ground before pushing back him into the couch cushions behind him. That seems to get Leo and Master Splinter's attention. Not just a kunoichi-in-training now, am I?

"April! OMG, that was awesome! You totally have to show me how to do that!" Mikey squeezes his eyes shut and takes on what I assume is meant to be a stance of psychic concentration, but he just looks constipated instead.

"You don't have the brain capacity to do that, numbskull," Raph quips as he rights himself on the couch, trying to play off the fact that I just mentally kicked his butt. Mikey blows a raspberry.

"April, this is a very unique and useful gift, but this ability is still new to you. You are still untrained in its use. This darkness in Donatello's mind is clever and strikes to kill. Mistakes can be fatal if you have not mastered this supernatural skill."

"I taught myself some basic energy focusing techniques." I feel rather proud of my independent crash course online telekinesis lessons, but Splinter doesn't seem too convinced. "Master Splinter, I have to try. Come with me if you think I need backup."

"Why don't we all go back? There'll be strength in numbers," Leo suggests.

"I'm afraid this beast will expect such forward attack." Master Splinter strokes his beard before turning to Donatello. Master Splinter's thoughts don't project as loudly as others, but his fear for my safety and desperation for Donnie still float into my mental space. "My son, what are your thoughts?"

There's a silent shift of attention as everyone looks to Donnie waiting for his answer. His blank expression is brief but still worries me as Donnie tries to mentally catch up to debate happening around him. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, and I sense him warding off the dark voice in his mind. I feel his exhaustion and vexation with his growing mutation. I feel him waver between hopelessness and possibility as our eyes momentarily meet. Looking over the faces of his family members, his mental faltering comes to halt as he makes up his mind.

"We…we should at least try. I have nothing else to lose that I haven't already….taken into consideration." He closes his eyes again, resting elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

Everyone is silent as we look back to Master Splinter.

"Perhaps April has made a valid point and if Donatello's mind is willing, then we will proceed with your plan, April. However," Splinter silences Mikey's 'woot', holding up a single finger, "I will come with you. First, we must first form a cohesive strategy to ensure our success." I press my lips together to hide the burst of joy I feel knowing we're one step closer to saving Donnie.

After reviewing the plan at least five times, everyone knows their role and position and it's go time… finally.

"But Sensei, I'm really good at drifting now. I can help, I know I can!" Mikey pleas again to come with Master Splinter and me into Donnie's psyche.

"Michelangelo, your help is needed here in the physical world. You are only to drift to the spiritual plane to warn April or me if something happens to Donatello's body, understood?"

"Yes, Sensei," Mikey mutters with a pout.

I rub his lime green head affectionately. "We'll be back before you know it."

"Leonardo. Raphael. Stand guard over Donatello. If he stirs, keep him calm and still."

"Hai, Sensei," they answer in unison. I glance over at Donatello stretched out on the couch, his head cushioned by pillows. He's been zoning in and out through the whole planning process. I can only imagine what's going through his head right now; I can sense the horrible lies that monster is whispering to him. I kneel at the end of the couch where his head is, placing my hands on either side of his face. His eyes shoot open and I smile at him, kissing his forehead.

"It's okay, Donnie. Just rest."

"I can't… it's.. it's…" I shush him as I feel his panic rising.

"Remember, we're in this together. I got you. Just rest." I project sweet memories of the two of us hanging out in his lab to distract his mind from the dangerous task ahead. His body finally gives way to exhaustion as his head relaxes against my hand. "Are you ready, Sensei?" The ninjutsu master nods briskly from his cross-legged position in front of the couch as he closes his eyes. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes, ready to save my boyfriend.

The trip into Donatello's spiritual plane is a much coarser arrival than my first trip here nearly a month ago. Much has changed. Traces of my son's mental memorabilia are nearly gone and have been replaced by thick black tendrils that coat the walls and drip down from the ceiling like mucus. I center my spirit until my aura glows a bright grey. The mental computers that make up Donatello's spiritual and mental functions have been completely consumed by this dark matter. The parts of the screen that are visible are filled with static that occasionally distort into horrific images from the tragedy in the sewer. Other images are of my other sons and myself incapacitated in a gory form or fashion. Is this all my son sees in his mind? The hopelessness of turning into a blood-lusting beast?

I continue down the familiar corridor that will lead to the wall at his core. The atmosphere is hot and humid, drenched with feelings of guilt and desolation threatening to snuff my aura in its all-consuming darkness. Even as the floor tries to claim hold of my aura like melted tar, I press forward with urgency. The black tunnel eventually opens into a cavern of more living darkness. I have reached Donatello's core. I search for his spiritual self but it is nearly impossible to see anything more than a few feet in front of me. Since I cannot rely on my sight, I turn to my hearing as I twitch my ears left and right for any shift or change in the sounds of around me. There is creaking and muttering to my right. I follow the sound until I see a purple auric glow. I quicken my steps and find Donatello's aura flittering nervously around his mental wall. His spirit tries desperately to mend the various holes and indentions in the wall with the healing hands mantra I taught him. However, just as soon as one cavity is sealed, a greater one appears somewhere else and he rushes in a panic to heal it. The guilt from seeing this desperation is heavy and I pity my poor son's plight.

"Donatello." He doesn't answer, but keeps trying to reinforce the wall. "Donatello." I reach out and touch his spirit this time.

His nervous aura jumps at my touch but quickly recovers when he see me. "Sensei? What are you doing here?"

"Do you not remember what was discussed in the physical realm?" The confusion on his face concerns me.

"No…. I mean, yes…. I mean, I think so?" He scratches his head, searching the ceiling for answers. "Sometimes I forget, because I have to keep the wall up." He points to his vigil as he presses his hands against another hole and it slowly grows smaller until it disappears altogether. "But I always remember to keep the wall up. Bad whispers come out if I don't. Bad whispers tell me to do bad things, but if I keep the wall up the whispers aren't so loud." He pauses for a moment lost in whatever thought that seemed to go over his head. "Are you here to help me keep the wall up?" His hopeful expression reminds me of a much younger Donatello but this scattered version of my son is on the verge of brokenness. His spirit was so much stronger weeks ago. Did I force him into meditation too often? Had the task of keeping the wall intact become too much for his spirit to handle?

I swallow back my doubts and uncertainties, realizing if this is to work, I must have the cooperation of this spiritual version of Donatello. "No, my son. I have come to tell you it is all right now. You do not have to maintain the wall any longer." His eyes widen with fear. This was not the answer he is hoping to hear.

"No, no, no. I have to keep the wall up. The wall keeps me safe. It keeps my family safe. If the bad whispers get out, bad things will happen. Really bad things," he whispers as if someone or something may be listening to us.

"I am going to help you get rid of the bad whispers, Donatello."

"How?"

"We are going to take down the wall." I can see the panic rise in his eyes again and I take him firmly by the shoulders. "Everything will be okay." He isn't listening to me. His eyes are fixed on the wall.

"Don't you hear it? The whispers. It's the bad whispers." I hold him still when I feel him attempt to move toward the wall.

"I will not let the bad whispers hurt you. I only wish to speak with the whispers."

"I don't….I don't think that's a good idea. The whispers…. are…. smart. They trick your head and your heart." The more my son speaks, the more I see the effects this evil has had on his mind.

"I am also smart." I reassure Donatello with simple words his spirit can conceive. "Stay here." He fidgets a bit, but eventually nods tiredly.

Approaching the barrier, I stand there silently as the whispers seep through the wall, but their sound seems to come from everywhere all at once. The repetitive babble is filled with dark utterances that heighten my senses for the unexpected. The whispers meld into one omniscient voice that sounds enormous from behind the wall.

I wondered when you would return.

"I did not think my return would be of any of your concern. Is my son not company enough for you?"

He was quite the exquisite mind, always meeting my promises of demise with declarations of defeat. Pity, he seems to be a bit broken now.

Breathing deeply I let the jab roll over my aura. I remember this pitiful auric image of my son that stands behind me is only a portion of my son's strength. His spirit is tired, not broken. Not yet. This beast will have to try harder if he wishes to get a rise from me.

"What are you, beast? Why do you torment my son?"

You already know who I am. Donatello and I are one and the same. He is I, and I am him.

"You are not my son," I level my voice with authority. "Where do you come from?"

Ah, you wish to know how Donatello and I became one. It's really quite simple. I've always been here. A latent part of his brain, never fully developed by his first mutation. But the radiation, that glorious radiation, changed everything. With every sacrificial night in his lab, my presence grew stronger. He fought against me, against his natural urges, but a few well-placed insecurities and emotional neglect created the thriving world you see now.

"Yes. I see you have made several changes here."

All for the better. He would have never been this close to reaching his full potential had I left him to his own devices. He still struggles, tries to hold me back but he only holds himself back. It's quite pathetic really. He actually thinks he can keep me bound by this wall.

The thing laughs, mocking my son's brave vigil within his mind. "Then why have you not broken free?" Its laughter abruptly stops. "If you are as strong as you proclaim to be, why do you hide behind this wall."

Because you put me behind this wall!

His voice bellows with irritation as he slams against the steel barrier. I can feel Donatello's fear prickling against my back but I lower my hand to the side, motioning for him to remain calm. It is obvious my son's will-power still trumps this monster's maleficent authority and it is truly a thorn in his side. "A being of such power should never have been caught to begin with." A low rumble vibrates the cavernous space but the wall remains intact. "If you like, I will remove the wall."

What is this trickery you speak, rat?

"I only wish to see my son at peace. Maintaining the wall has become tiresome to him."

Yes, it is quite cumbersome. The wall shakes and distorts as the beast speaks. Looking behind me, Donatello is trembling in the same spot in which I told him to stand.

"That's not a good idea," he tells me again. "He's smart, like me. You can't let him free."

Stepping back toward Donatello, I hold his face between my hands. "He is not like you," I whisper to him. "All is well, but you must trust me. Can you do that?" He searches my aura for understanding and in return I radiate my confidence in our plan without revealing it to him. I do not know how connected this parasite is to Donatello's mind and spirit, so I am careful not to warn our enemy through communication with my son. When he nods his consent, I motion for him to follow me to the barrier. "Help me break down the wall." Placing my hands against its metal surface, I channel my energy into it. The wall barely creaks under my mental drive. I turn to Donatello. This is his wall. Though I taught him the foundations of building it, it is he who truly has the power to destroy it. "Help me, Donatello."

He steps forward. Hesitating, he finally places his hand upon the wall. I offer him a reassuring nod when he looks my way. His aura glows a vibrant lavender as energy circles through his spiritual body. Pushing against the wall, bright energy jets from his hands, illuminating the wall. With our combined spiritual strength, the wall shakes beneath our hands. A crack starts at the base of the wall and travels like lightning up the center until it disappears into the towering height of the metal blockade. I back away from the wall, holding Donatello at my side, as the ground shakes beneath. A dreadful force hammers against the wall like a gong. A black clawed hand dripping with black ooze breaks through the wall. It is followed by another hand, and another, and another until there are legions of hands on either side of the wall's opening. The hands work in unison, prying the wall open as it crumbles into spiritual rubbish before disappearing into the mass of darkness it once contained.

Foolish rat. You will die here.

The beast shape-shifts from towering mass to a ten-legged spider creature. Hundreds of red eyes narrow at me. Four of its front legs lunge for me like knife-wielding grappling hooks.

"No!" As I shield myself with spiritual energy, Donatello cries out, adding his energy to the my defense. The fear and flightiness my second youngest showed moments ago quickly takes a backseat to the brave and caring soul I know my son to be. A bo staff materializes in his hand as a katana appears in mine. Donatello's offense is fast and calculated as he beats the tendrils away with expert precision. He grunts and wavers as his body jerks this way and that when his staff connects with the beast. I do not understand; this creature has not landed a mark on him, yet Donatello recoils and cringes in pain. Afraid for my son's spirit, I place myself between Donatello and this embodiment of evil. My katana jabs the massive center of black ooze as it threatens to consume us like a tidal wave. The darkness recoils as Donatello doubles over in pain behind me.

"My son!" I turn to him, trying to find the source of his agony.

"Hurts," he mutters as he attempts to right himself. His aura presence pales but I do not understand its cause.

I told you. We are one. Inseparable.

The attacks against the beast, Donatello's sudden sensitivity, the mirrored pain between the two. The startling realization brings everything into stark clarity. This abomination is no longer a mere parasite in Donatello's mind and body. It has seeped into his spirit in an unspeakable way. This darkness is my son. The plan! It must be stopped!

"April, wait!" I am too late as I watch the red-head kunoichi reveal herself from the shadows, using her telekinesis to part a body of black globular mass like a toxic red sea.

Naïve little girls should not meddle in the affairs of hungry beasts.

This monster is clever and manipulative as it taunts April to attack. It is trying to weaken what's left of Donatello's spirit in order to consume it. I shout again, begging her to stop for Donatello's sake, but my son's unbearable screams drown out my voice as she rips through layers and layers of tar-like muck by the simple pantomiming of her hands.

"You must stop! You are only making it—" A tendril of blackness binds me from head to toe, threatening to snuff my spirit from existence. But that would be too easy and I see it thrives on playing with its prey before it destroys it. Its face stretches like putty, leaving its other appendages to overwhelm April as it sways to and fro inches away from my snout like a rogue snake that has abandoned its charmer.

Your work is done here. Perhaps I will make your death quick in the physical world.

I barely have time to blink before I am thrust backwards like a ragdoll out of the spirit realm.

TBC

A/N: And we are back to suspense and action! Things could get ugly now that Splinter's been booted out of Donnie's aura by the beast. You guys know by now that I am notorious for drastic twists and turns so hold on tight because I'm just getting started!

As always, thank you for reading and reviewing this story thus far. How are you guys feeling about this chapter? Let me know, leave a review!

See you next chapter!

Poetique