Skraeling

Nothingness. Complete emptiness. All logic lost. They must have somehow stepped in some sort of surreal alternate universe. None of this could have been real. They were not on a spaceship. They had not battled alien anthropomorphic dinosaurs. Shredder had not allied forces with them just to murder Sensei.

Tears blinded his vision at that last thought. His heart ached as if he was the one stabbed instead of his father. Donatello sat in the command room, hoping to distract his thoughts with the immense control panel with the numerous buttons, dials, and levers. The one console piloted the craft, controlled the weapon system, adjust internal climate, and more functions for him to discover. In front of him were multiple screens. The biggest held the view of the vast outer space filled with the immeasurable number of stars. Yet all the glittering gas balls along with the flashing lights on the panel blurred into one obscure, wavy blob. None of this should have happened. How did it all go so wrong?

Misunderstandings! That's all any of this was. Just one big misunderstanding. A case of things getting lost in translation.

When Raph first found Zog, the Triceraton was sick and barely coherent, but it was clear they were on the same side. They had a common enemy – the Kraang. Yet because of Raph's inability to think through consequences, they had been labeled as threats. No, not them – the entire planet got blacklisted. Charged with harboring the Kraang – providing sanctuary to criminals. In the end an entire planet was destroyed by an invading force; it didn't matter whether it was at the hands of the Kraang or Triceraton.

All this mess because of one alien race who were looking for a better planet to live on. What was it like when the first Kraang had arrived? Was it hostile from the beginning? Was it peaceful between them and the humans? Did they too have a misunderstanding that precipitated into the current madness he and his brothers had to manage? But was this not the history of Earth anyway? After all this was the planet plagued with invasions and colonization of foreign lands along with their inability to settle matters with civilized dialogue. Open-minded dialogue was beyond human capability though – a species too easy fearful of anyone they do not understand. This was the same mentality that had forced his family to remain in the sewers for fifteen years.

- 5 years ago -

"It's not fair!"

"But why?"

"The sewers smell bad!"

Splinter had been bombarded with the many protests from his stubborn sons. In their younger years it had been simpler to express the many dangers that lurked on the surface and his boys dutifully conceded to his wise advice. They had readily accepted his words and moved on. However, as they grew older, the young turtles began developing skills in rationalizing and negotiating their terms to visit the world above.

"But we're bigger now. Ten-year-old boys walk the streets all the time."

"We know ninjitsu. We'll be safe. We know how to protect ourselves."

"We'll go one block around and come back. It'll be super quick. Pleeeeeaaase!"

Each year the boys grew more persistent and their arguments steadily evolved into more logical reasons to why they should see the city. The boys were indeed growing up too fast yet they were far too young to understand his concerns. Each attempt was finally thwarted with a stern "no!" and that ended any and all future discussions….at least until the next year's mutation day.

After the exhausting verbal sparring, Splinter treated his boys to the rare box of donuts before sending the boys to bed, deep in a sugar induced food coma. All but for Donatello. Instead he laid beneath his sheets until he was certain his father was fast asleep. Splinter was known to meditate before bed. If Donatello moved too soon, Splinter's keen hearing would detect him well before he made it to the lair's exit. The turtle stared at the clock he made himself, suddenly wishing he had added in the function to count seconds. The minutes on the digital clock changed at an agonizingly slow pace.

Midnight – Finally!

Donatello bolted out of bed and pressed his ear against the door. Silence. The turtle wished he had a snake camera like in the spy movies so he could investigate the happenings outside his door. Alas, he was forced to rely on deductive reasoning. No light filtered under the door. It was reasonable to assume that Splinter was asleep or at the least in his bedroom. Mustering all of his stealth training, Donatello pushed the door open enough to slide his body through and tiptoed out of the lair. However, the moment he stepped past the outermost perimeter Donatello raced as fast as his legs could carry him. Once he reached his destination, he grabbed his cramping side and gasped for breath. His heart felt like exploding and he wondered if his wobbly legs would even be able carry him back home. Right now it didn't matter though. Donatello stared at where the moon filtered through the grate and illuminated a small portion of the sewer. The turtle lingered in the shadows waiting to be certain no human still lingered. He was not completely sure how the human world operated though. Donatello knew some human jobs had specific day time hours, like teachers. Some worked at night – security guards was the only one he could think of. Would a security guard be patrolling these areas? He couldn't say. In all honesty, despite the teasing of his brothers, Donatello did not in fact know everything.

The little turtle stared as dust specks danced in the moonlight. He wrung his hands as he searched for his courage to scale the ladder just beyond the light beam.

"Come on, Donnie!" He whispered to himself. "You can do it! It'll be the perfect birthday gift to yourself."

The tech savvy turtle closed his eyes and imagined what it would be like to have his very own computer. To be able to surf the internet – the world's library at his fingertips. A giant smile pulled his lips from ear to ear, giddy as the proverbial schoolboy. He had been looking forward to this day for the past week. Donatello's most recent project yielded a fully functioning, refurbished television that, at the moment, can only pick up local channels but those channels produced cartoons in the morning and news in the evening. A win for everyone! Early in the week the local morning news announced an electronic recycling event hosted by the municipality. While the small tv was a convenient find that Splinter managed to loot from the nearby alley, it was nothing compared to the treasure trove the event would produce. Donatello had calculated that based on the newly released phone and computer models that he could find highly functional and current technology…unlike the boxy television probably was built in the 80s. His heart fluttered at the thought.

Donatello inhaled a deep calming breath and exhaled resolutely. "It's now or never. Get that computer!"

The pep talk seemed to have provided all the courage he needed for Donatello dashed over to the ladder. He quickly ascended and carefully pushed against the manhole cover. Donatello moved slowly to maintain silence but his arm trembled violently under the weight of the metal lid. Once the side he pushed cracked open to reveal the world above, Donatello carefully surveyed the area. Clear straight ahead. Donatello then turned in time to see a large truck rumbling towards him. Brick red eyes widened in terror and he froze like a deer caught in the headlights. Fortunately his arm acted on its own accord and released the manhole cover. The lid slammed down, banging his head. Donatello lost his grip and landed hard on his carapace. Air rushed instantly out of his lungs, leaving the turtle to gasp for air. With a loud groan, Donatello finally pushed himself up to a sitting position and stared at the lid.

That was close…could have been much worse.

Donatello walked back to the grate and stared at the moonlight. At least he knew that people did work a night shift at the recycling center. But how exactly how active was the area at this time?

A distant whistling floated through to answer his question. As the whistling grew louder, Donnie retreated back into the shadows but his eyes never left the grate. Footsteps clicked overhead – a steady heal to toe gait. Before long, the figure appeared in Donatello's line of vision. A man dressed in a dark uniform. His flashlight moved steadily from side to side as the man studied his environment. As the man walked, an object bounced against his hip, catching Donatello's eye. A gun! The turtle gulped at the sight. Was that really necessary? Cops had guns. Did being a security guard warrant such weaponry? Maybe he was a cop….maybe thugs routinely infiltrate these sites. Stealing scraps and appliances must have made good money for those people. Or maybe gangs have used scrap yards to make shady deals and the city amp up security in this dump sites.

The rapid pounding of excitement in his heart quickly transformed into fear. Bright eyes grew sullen as his plans have officially been thwarted. His smile fell into a frown and once the security guard was long gone, Donatello trudged home empty handed and heavy hearted.

. . .

"Ugh!"

Donatello banged his head against his desk with a heavy thud. He could barely concentrate on his math pages even though he sequestered himself to his bedroom to avoid the massive distractions that came with the territory of having three brothers. Sleep deprivation didn't make matters any better. Nor was the rude wakening Mikey decided to deliver by dumping cold water on his face. Eyelids slowly closed. A deep snore instantly woke him back up and he shot straight back up to sitting position. Disoriented Donnie had to regain his bearings and finally remembered that he was in his own bedroom.

"Donatello."

Despite the familiar, gentle voice, Donatello couldn't help but jump out of his seat at the sudden intrusion. The turtle never handled surprises well and thus his disdain for Mikey's practical jokes. Donatello turned around to find Splinter sitting on his bed. When did he sneak in?!

"My son, why are you so tired this morning?"

"I didn't sleep very well," Donnie replied with a slight yawn.

Splinter studied his son's face as if sensing the young turtle was not offering the full truth. Donatello however held no sign of deception…after all, the statement was factual.

"Perhaps you would sleep better if you adhere to your assigned bedtime instead of one o'clock in the morning."

There – the shocked, widened eyes. His secret was not as concealed as he had thought. It was all the confession Splinter needed from his son.

"Tell me, Donatello, why had you snuck out last night?"

"H…how…how did you know?"

"I followed you."

The most observant, analytical, scientifically-oriented mind failed to notice he was followed by a master ninja the entire time. Donatello sighed while he fumbled with the pencil in his hand.

"Yesterday, the city had organized an electronic recycling event. People were just throwing out their outdated technology. I wanted to see if I can find anything good. Like a computer. I thought it would be cool and useful. If I can figure out how to connect to the internet, we would have access to so much more information and learn more about the world. I thought it would be a great way to expand our world beyond the sewers."

Splinter carefully listened to his son's words and nodded at key points.

"So why did you not venture to the surface?"

"I fell and hurt myself."

"Hm. So if you quit so readily, why have you not quit ninjitsu every time Raphael torture you with painful limb-locks? I see the pain on your face while trying to avoid saying 'mercy.' Even though you do end up conceding you have yet to give up on your training. So why did you give up so easily this time?"

Donatello bit his lip, afraid to offend the former human.

"Because of the security guard. He had a gun, and I was afraid that maybe he would use it if he caught me."

Splinter's face softened and his ears drooped slightly.

"What about the man made you think he would have hurt you?"

"Well, I figured that if he needed to carry a gun that maybe criminals tend sneak in to steal things. Maybe they have had encounters with the local gangs and need the protection. If I spooked him by accident, maybe his first reaction would be to use his gun…especially with creatures like us. Humans tend to have adverse reactions to things they don't understand."

Splinter quirked an eyebrow at the statement. "What do you mean by adverse reactions?"

"When the Europeans met the African tribes, because they didn't understand their culture and they looked different, the Europeans viewed the Africans as an inferior race and forced them into the slave trade. It wasn't too much different when the colonist came to the Americas and stole land from the Native Americans and forced the tribes to move. Humans fear what they don't understand. It's in their history books. On the surface, I would be the strange foreigner walking into their land. I don't look like them and they wouldn't understand what I am. It is reasonable to fear the interaction wouldn't end well."

"Is that why every year while your brothers beg to go to the surface, you remain silent?"

The turtle nodded matter-of-factly. Splinter sighed and reached under Donatello's blanket. As his hand withdrew, a small black laptop was revealed. It wasn't as current model as Donatello had hoped but he can definitely make do with it. A huge grin spread across his face and he tackled the rat with a tight hug.

"Find a way to connect to the internet and expand your world, Donatello. Humans may end up surprising you. While it is true humans have had a violent history, they also have many wonders to share with you."

- Present Day –

True to Splinter's promise Donnie had found many aspects of the human culture to be marvelous. Their architecture – those pyramids were nothing short of a mathematical and engineering ingenuity. The various (and often accidental) scientific discoveries. The art – Donatello too thought the Renaissance was a spectacular time period with many inventions in addition to the beautiful artwork. The more he researched the more excited he became to explore the surface world himself.

The day of his fifteenth mutation day the four brothers finally ascended into the unknown world – strangers in a foreign land. They didn't know what to expect. The plan was never to make contact with the humans – just explore and go home. That day changed their life forever – much like meeting Zog also changed their life forever. A single moment of distrust precipitated into a domino effect that ended with Splinter's death. They were all helpless as they watch Shredder's blade penetrate through their father's body, like a knife through butter. The act happened so quickly and seemed to cut too easily. The scent of Splinter's blood still lingered on is plastron though the blood had dried.

Donatello always knew he was the weakest of his brothers. He knew fighting Shredder was beyond his ability. But maybe if he could have perceived the deception sooner, acted faster, Splinter wouldn't have had to die. Perhaps if he was stronger like Raph or strategic like Leo or nimble like Mikey, maybe…just maybe he could have saved his father. But Donnie knew he was nothing more than the brainiac weakling.

"I'm sorry, Otousan, but I fear that my heart may have quit ninjitsu long ago. I knew I would never be as strong as Raph. I guess passion for the martial arts was not as strong as it should have been. I focused all my time on compensating my physical deficiencies with my inventions. I relegated myself to the stereotypical weak nerd…and thus…I failed you."

Tears finally spilled over and streamed down his cheeks. Hugging his arms over the console, Donatello buried his head into the crook of his elbow, concealing his shame from the heavens.

A/N: Phew! Took me a while to come up with a Donnie centric story but wanted to get this done first before I tackle Leo. Some notes to help this to make more sense. Skraeling is a Norse term that has two meanings both of which are used in this fic. First, Skraeling is used to denote a foreigner, originally used to describe "barbaric" indigenous people the Vikings encountered in Greenland as chronicled in the Vinland Saga. Skraeling is also used to describe a weakling (as the indigenous people were smaller framed and thus seen as fragile compared to Norsemen). The inspiration for this fic came from the song Skraeling by Leaves' Eyes, which talks about the first encounter between the Vikings and the indigenous Thule).