Chapter Ten: Empty
AN: THANK YOU ALEXLUKE for your continued support and feedback! It's patrons like you who keep me going! This year is going to be AWESOME!
AN2: Taking a break from Donnie for a bit because so much is gonna focus on him, so I wanted to give a glimpse of what his brothers have been enduring since his loss. As expected, they're not coping well.
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"No! Do it again!" Leo snapped at Mikey, adding a slap with his sword onto Mikey's shoulder in further reprimand.
"Ouch!" Mikey yelped, rubbing the place smarting from the hard whack of the blade. "I'm doing the best I can, dude. What is your malfunction?"
Mikey had returned to training a few days prior, his broken arm healed and ready to be exercised, much to Mikey's protest. He insisted he needed at least two weeks of video game rehab, though he hadn't even glanced at his games since Donnie's abduction.
"You're sloppy!" Leo took a defensive stance, swords gleaming dangerously. "Now, try it again. This time don't lead with your right foot."
"Give him a break, Leo," Raph grunted, taking it upon himself to come between his brothers. He towered over Leo for the briefest of seconds before Leo rose to his full height in challenge. "You've been at it for three hours. Kid's still recovering from a broken arm. Take a break already."
"Take a break?" Leo parroted incredulously. "Taking breaks is what allowed us to be overrun and Donnie captured! The enemy doesn't give breaks. We need to be in top fighting form or else we'll be picked off, one by one."
"Enough!" came the harsh rebuke from the far corner. Splinter emerged to face his sons who were sizing each other up, preparing for a massive physical brawl. Such a thing was becoming more and more common as the days went by. "Michelangelo has shown considerable progress and should be commended as such."
Mikey gave a broad grin and bowed to his sensei.
"Going to rival me in skills if you keep this up." Raph smirked at his little brother and nudged him playfully.
"Already surpassed you, brah," Mikey crooned, tucking his chucks away. His green skin shone with a film of sweat. Mikey curled his nose, searching for the source of something foul. Lifting an arm, he got a whiff. "Whew! I'm hitting the pool. You coming, bros?"
Raph noticed Leo and Splinter in a staring contest and hastily grabbed Mikey's shell, marching him out of the dojo. Mikey didn't even get a chance to strip down before Raph shoved him into the pool they used as a bath. Mikey resurfaced, sputtering and glaring at Raph's shell as he retreated to the dojo to eavesdrop on the (hopefully) epic smackdown to Leo's ego.
Mikey paddled around the pool for a few moments, enjoying the refreshing sensation only water could provide.
Then his gaze found the computer bank at the far end of the room.
The couple dozen computer screens scrolling text and constantly monitoring the airwaves in the configuration Donatello had set.
The empty chair.
The water wasn't so comforting anymore.
Mikey exited the pool, blue eyes transfixed by the empty seat usually occupied by his lanky, geeky brother. It wasn't the same without Donnie. Even when he was engrossed in his computers, there was a sense of peace and tranquility about him. About the lair.
Donnie's presence was the balm that kept the raging storm of tumultuous personalities from clashing and destroying the family. Since he was turtlenapped, there was no longer a buffer to quell emotions and soothe tempers.
Leo was becoming worse, snapping at everyone and spending endless hours in the dojo. When he wasn't working out, he meditated. And rarely slept, often times waking his brothers up in the wee hours of the morning to engage in katas, tests of balance and endurance, and meditation. His singularly focused obsession was driving everyone crazy, including Splinter.
Raph was somehow surlier, griping about everything and butting heads with Leo on an hourly basis. It took no provocation for either of them to start a stare down, posturing and puffing their shells in challenge.
The two were gearing up for a massive throw down. No holds barred. No punches pulled. Complete and utter beat down of each other until a lone victor remained conscious.
And Mikey…. Spending nearly every waking moment in front of Donnie's computers, games, comics, skateboarding, all forgotten while he waited for a miracle. Hoping, wishing, staring nonstop at the screen specifically designated to detect their trackers.
Every day, every hour, every minute, it had remained silent. Blank. Mocking Mikey's vigilance.
All avenues had been exhausted. April and Casey had also come up empty handed. Aside from scouring the city, building by building, room by room, there was no telling where Donatello was.
The Foot had fallen silent since their chatter that drew the brothers to their separation. The turtles scoured every possible Foot hang out and even a couple of abandoned construction sites from a now dissolved Sacks' Construction.
Every location, however slight it's connection, was thoroughly examined and eliminated. The silence was weighing heavier and heavier, hope fading. And the more hope faded, the more anger, resentment, and sorrow took its place. For hearts already so grievously wounded, it was a difficult pain to accept.
Not able to stand it any longer, Mikey slipped into one of the darkened tunnels Donnie had blocked off as a security measure. It was cool, dark, isolated. The perfect place in which to let emotions loose into an uncaring world.
Mikey had been using the refuge more often as time went by.
Finding a dark corner, Mikey sat down, tucking his knees to his chin and wrapping his arms around his legs. Sadness weighed his head down and poured over his cheeks.
A moment later, a giant arm draped over his shoulders.
Mikey turned, crying onto Raph's chest. He didn't care if his big brother witnessed his weakness. He was too tired to hide anymore. Too sad. Too miserable.
Too…empty.
"It's okay, Mikey," Raph muttered, holding his baby brother close. "We'll find Donnie."
Mikey laughed through his tears. "It's been 28 days, Raph. We should have found him by now."
"He's just harder to find at the moment." Raph amended with a shrug. He tightened his grip when Mikey trembled.
It was a couple of moments before Mikey spoke. When he did, his voice was hollow, a shell of his former self. "He's gone, isn't he? We'll never see him again."
"Hey, don't talk like that," Raph grunted, giving Mikey a little shake. "Donnie's smarter than all of us combined. He's probably biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment to spring some -massively awesome- escape plan. You know him. He shares Leo's love for perfection and the geek thinks more with numbers and probabilities than with his fists. He's biding him time. You watch. He'll come crawling back any day now."
Mikey sniffled, wanting so desperately to believe Raph, but deep down, his heart fought against an ugly truth.
"Remember when we were kids and played 'Capture Master Splinter?'" Raph asked, drifting back to a happier time when the turtles didn't carry such burdens. He felt Mikey nod. "Dad would hide and we had to find him. We'd spend hours looking for him. And Donnie," Raph gave a chuckle that vibrated his entire torso, "the smarty turtle he is, put a tracker on Splinter. It was a couple weeks before dad figured it out."
Mikey gave an amused chuckle, eyes glistening with tears at the memory.
"I thought dad would be mad Donnie cheated, but he congratulated Donnie on using his brains to outthink his opponent," Raph continued. He nudged a somber Mikey. "He'll do that again. Outthink his captors. He'll get away and come wandering in, ready to screech at us for messing with his computers while he was away."
Mikey sniffled, wiping his face with trembling hands. "It's been almost a month, though."
"You know Donnie," Raph insisted. "Probably redoing his calculations before making his escape."
Mikey stared blankly ahead. It was sad seeing him so dull and lifeless. His voice was hollow when he spoke.
"Unless he's already dead and dissected by scientists."
Raph flinched, heart pausing for a protracted moment. It began to beat again with a wild fury. He grasped Mikey's chin to force him to look into Raph's eyes.
"He's not dead, Mikey. Don't think like that. You have to think positive. Donnie's smart. He knows to lay low until the coast is clear. Being reckless will get him hurt or caught. It's best to lay low and let the enemy lose interest before you make a move."
Mikey gave a solemn nod but Raph could tell by his eyes he didn't agree. Merely going through the motion. Mikey's heart was breaking with the thought of losing one of their own.
Mikey's stomach chose that moment to growl. He patted his plastron guiltily. Not only was he neglecting his usual distractions, his appetite had noticeably diminished. A fact that did not go unnoticed by father or red banded brother.
Raph pointed to the entrance of the tunnel, adopting a stern, parental voice. "Go fill your tank before you wither away."
Mikey nodded and got up, steps heavy as his heart. Raph remained partially hidden in the shadow of the tunnel. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, fighting back the tears threatening to fall.
He failed.
Mikey ambled into the kitchen to make a pizza to lift his spirits. Leo was already there, rummaging around the cupboards. He glanced at Mikey when he approached, doing a double take upon noticing Mikey's tear stained mask.
"I didn't hit you that hard, did I?" Leo asked, realizing he may have been a tad too aggressive when slapping Mikey with his katana. Though he had made sure the blade was flat, as to not cut, there was power in his stroke.
Mikey's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Naw. You hit like a girl."
Leo smirked at the jibe.
Mikey's gaze drifted inevitably to the computer station normally occupied by a lanky turtle.
"I miss him. I want him back."
Leo's expression faltered.
"We all do, Mikey," Leo sighed. Staring at Mikey's look of longing, Leo blew out a breath in annoyance. "Which is why we train. So we're not caught unaware again and fail our mission."
The words may have been a physical blow to Mikey, who jerked, shoulders drooping.
Mikey's mood was overlooked by Leo, who grabbed a sports drink and waved the bottle as he spoke.
"Do you want to continue sparring? You have a lot of room for improvement."
Given Mikey's unstable emotions, the offer was more of a stab at him personally than a genuine offer to help hone skills. Affronted, he scoffed.
"Dude, my skills are awesome. It's hard to perfect perfection."
Leo rolled his eyes. "Please. If you put half the energy you focus on video games into training, you would offer true competition."
"I seem to remember quite a few times I bested you," Mikey shot back, getting annoyed.
"Lucky shots. Nothing more." Leo sighed dismissively. "If you succeeded in repeatedly besting me, then, and only then, would I concede to your experience and combat skills."
"Hey, I was able to take on Shredder."
"Barely." Leo added with a scoff. "He knocked you on your shell."
"You too," Mikey shot back. "Your skilled ass didn't last long against him either. So don't go giving me that crap about being 'better.' You got your shell handed to you as well."
"At the time, yes," Leo said, his shell rising in a subtle display of dominance. "But since, I have practiced my skills, honing my body and mind to become a more effective ninja."
"Practice!" Mikey spat. "Honing your body and mind! Ha! You're hiding your emotions in training instead of facing them. The only thing you're perfecting is the art of self deception!"
"At least I spend my time focusing on something to improve my abilities as a fighter!" Leo growled, glaring at Mikey. "You spend all your time playing a Call for Battle instead of actually engaging in it!"
"It's Call of Duty!" Mikey corrected hotly. "And I learn about strategy and stuff!"
"Learn more by practice and engaging in real battle than fake," Leo retorted, driving home his razor sharp point. "Maybe if you concentrated more on training, you would have lasted longer and Donnie would still be with us?"
Leo never saw it coming.
In all the years the brothers lived and trained together, Mikey had never moved so fast and deadly as when he drew back his fist and punched Leo with the force of a brick wall. One minute Leo was staring into the glaring blue eyes of his brother, the next, he was flat on his shell, glimpsing the ceiling before darkness claimed him.
"It wasn't my fault!" Mikey screamed, tears running down his cheeks again. "I was hurt, too! I did my best!"
Leo was out cold and offered no response.
"I tried! I did my best!" Mikey continued to rant at his inert brother. "It wasn't my fault!"
Unable to control himself any longer, Mikey ran from the room, his cries echoing into silence.
Drawn to the shouting and wanting to act as a buffer between his raging brothers, Raph appeared in time to see Mikey flee.
Leo lay on the kitchen floor, drink bottle lying next to his open hand, the contents emptying onto the concrete.
Movement drew Raph's attention to the opposite side of the kitchen, where Master Splinter appeared, observing the scene.
Raph lowered his gaze and retreated into the darkness from whence he came, ashamed for allowing anyone to see him vulnerable.
Splinter sighed upon Raph's exodus. There was no ignoring the tear stains darkening the red bandana to the color of blood.
Mikey was suffering, too.
And Leo, poor Leo, the worst of them all, laying unconscious, snout turning red from the impact with Mikey's fist.
His sons were in so much pain.
Splinter rubbed his face with a gnarled hand.
His sons may be adults, but in many aspects, they were still children, lacking the maturity necessary to cope with emotions in a productive way. Though if he were honest, he too lacked the ability to cope with the potential loss of his child. Many hours had been spent in pained meditation and isolated silence.
The only thing keeping him centered was remembering Donnie's ingenuity and sharp intellect. The turtle was quicker in his mind than body, but only just. He was a certifiable genius, and a deadly fighter.
Splinter was unsure on how to help his sons come to terms with everything that had happened in the last few months. Everything had happened so fast.
Making a friend, losing her tragically, finding themselves imbalanced where there was once unity and peace. Sure Leonardo and Raphael shared a brotherly friction, but no matter how loud they argued, how much they fought, they would always return to each other.
Though now, Splinter worried.
Leonardo's heart was hardening by the day. Lost in a continuing loop of pain, loss, and sense of failure. Leo was an excellent leader. Capable, strong, cunning, and always thinking three steps ahead of his opponent. That was why Splinter chose him to lead his brothers. When Splinter was gone, they would need someone with inner strength and courage to guide them.
But now, Leo was floundering. Set adrift upon a sea of uncertain emotions, he was pulling further and further away from his family, when they should be coming closer together.
His sons were growing up so fast, thrown into a world they were ill equipped to navigate.
Ninjitsu had honed their skills as protectors, defenders of the innocent and weak, but there was nothing in the ninja skill set that dealt with love and loss. When they were together they were strong, relying on one another for physical and emotional support when confronting danger.
But when one was missing from the equation, they lacked the ability to remain focused, stable. They were four elements, destined to compliment each other in perfect balance, just as nature intended.
A resounding crash echoed in the brick and mortar underground home, the result of an imaginary slight by an inanimate object to a distressed and 'less than cooperative' turtle, who took out his aggression on the strongest and most resilient gym equipment he possessed.
Now more than ever, Splinter wished children came with a set of instructions.
It would make fatherhood so much easier.
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