Just a Shell
Chapter Four
Weeks past the same. Some days Donatello did eat, but even then he would only allow himself a certain number of bites. He knew what he was doing was wrong, that he was hurting himself, but even the intellectual side of his mind didn't care after what he heard his brothers say. He wanted to be stronger, faster, better, even if it meant sacrificing. A few days ago, Splinter had managed to get an entire tray of sushi, knowing it was his sons favorite food, but Don only had a few small pieces and decided to 'save the rest for later'.
Splinter was worried about his son. The other turtles had not yet noticed, though perhaps Michelangelo had some suspicions. It was true, Donatello was always the quietest of the bunch, always lost in his own thoughts. But he had never skipped meals like he had been, and although his son tried to hide it, Splinter noticed how much Donatello had been training as of late. And yet, the purple turtle still was behind in practice, most likely because by the time practice started, he'd already been worn out. After a week or so of silence, he finally decided to talk to his son.
He found Donatello in the dojo, which was now more common then finding him in the lab. He had stopped locking the door, but closed it, which was still against the rule. The dojo was always supposed to be open, but Splinter opted not to speak of that yet. Right now, he was worried for his son, he could reprimand him later. He opened the door and watched from the frame as Donatello trained.
He was in a ready stance, his bo outstretched in his hand. Splinter recognized the stance, he was practicing kicks. Pivot, kick, return. He did this five times in a round kick, then five times in an arc, and then switched legs. Splinter watched. His form was amazing, but there was barely any force behind them. He would have assumed that Donatello was simple practicing form, except he let out his breaths with each kick. He was using most, if not all of his strength.
Then came the hook kick, which Donatello also did well. Splinter tried to stop watching his technique and instead see his son for what was really happening. His face was flushed, his grip on his staff shaking, his breaths shallow. He stepped forward.
"Enough, Donatello." he said, holding up his hand. "You must rest. How long have you been practicing?"
Donatello was startled, knocked off balance. His head spun, but thankfully he caught himself, unlike earlier that morning when he got dizzy after he got out of bed. He had fallen right onto the floor, but he was fine.
"Just under an hour, Master Splinter." He lied. He had been in the dojo for a good three hours now. It was easier for him to lie now. He had been doing it for almost two months.
"You are flushed." Splinter said. "Sit with me, my son. I'll make us some tea, we have something to discuss."
Donatello's breathing stopped, but he nodded. He was scared. He couldn't take it if Splinter found out what he'd been doing. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't admit it. In his mind, he rationalized it. He was only making up for lost time, he was eating less, sure, but he drank more water, and he was already overweight, right? So he couldn't cause any real damage… He knew that wasn't true, but he let himself believe it.
He was led to Splinters room, where the tea was already waiting, and sat down. He picked up his tea, ignoring the trembling of his hand and concentrating on not spilling any. Splinter sat down across from him and took his own cup, hands graceful.
"I've been noticing that something has been troubling you, Donatello. You've been eating less, and training more frequently." he said in a obviously concerned tone. "Why is this?"
Donatello was silent for only a moment.
"I've been training because I feel like my muscles have gotten weaker…" he said, thinking it through. It wasn't hard to come up with other reasons. "And I have been eating, I just don't eat with the family as much because I'm concentrating on training and working in the lab."
His voice sounded confident, as if it were the truth, but Splinter wasn't sure. He had a feeling something was wrong, but didn't know why his son would lie to him. Donatello was one of his most honest sons, and considering that most of his sons were rather honest…
"I believe you, Donatello." Splinter said. "But you are harming your body. From now on, I would like you to inform me whenever you use the dojo. I know that this may seem unfair, but I do not want you to tire yourself before our real practice begins, or hurt yourself."
Donatello paused, he didn't want to make his father suspicious. He nodded and bowed his head.
"I understand." he said, smiling for his sensei. "I'll try to be more careful."
After a few seconds Splinter nodded as well, but in his heart he feared...
Soon after talking to his father, Donatello headed to the lab, distraught. How was he supposed to get better, help his brothers, if he couldn't train? He shut the door to his lab for the first time in a long time and sat down at his computer. He didn't bother to look at the screen, too lost in his own thoughts now to work.
'If I can't use the dojo, I can just try working out in my room…' he thought, sighing. 'But I won't be able to practice without extra space.'
He took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on the new plans for Raphael's bike. He really couldn't figure out how to make it work and go as fast as Raph wanted it at the same time, but he knew he'd get it eventually. He heard a knock on the door and sighed. It was probably the guys telling him it was time for dinner. Lately Mikey seemed to have to tell him every single time they were eating, not that Don minded too much, he didn't like being badgered, but it was nice that they noticed. Even if he did refuse most of the time, which his master, obviously, had noticed.
The rest of the guys hadn't, too much. They thought Donatello was just working really hard on the bike, even Michelangelo believed that. He just thought it wasn't healthy to care so much about a stupid bike, but then again Donnie was kind of a geek like that and the fact that his bike wasn't going as fast as Raphael wanted probably really bugged him.
"Yo bro!" Mikey said, running in. "We're gonna order some pizza, what kind do you want?"
"I'm not really that hungry." Donatello said, grabbing his screw driver to 'fix' something. "You guys go ahead."
"You will eat with your brothers, Donatello."
Donnie turned, seeing Splinter standing in the doorway, both hands holding his staff. His eyes were serious, and Don knew that arguing was a bad idea. But then again, he was doing a lot of things lately he knew were bad ideas.
"I can eat some leftovers later." Donatello said, turning back to the engine. "I have to try something with this…"
"You will eat with your brothers." Splinter repeated, and Michelangelo watched, moving his head back and forth. He looked baffled. Donatello was one of the only brothers who never spoke back to Splinter. They all respected him, but Raph, him, and even Leo had spoken back, while Donatello usually trusted his master unquestioningly.
Donatello paused, his shoulders tensing. Did Splinter know more then he had let on earlier? Or was he just being careful now? He didn't know what was going on in his masters head, but he was scared, and angry. If he didn't want to eat, why was that anyone else's business? Shouldn't Splinter be happy he's not eating junk anymore?
"All right." he said, not turning around. "I'll just have cheese then."
Splinter nodded and left the door frame, knowing he did what had to be done. His son did because easily distracted when he had something on his mind. Splinter still didn't understand why his son was training so much. Maybe he was trying to keep his mind awake by keeping his body busy, but whatever the problem was, he had to find out before Donatello did any real damage to himself. Michelangelo just stood at the door, confused.
"So… Did I miss something?" he asked, shrugging in confusion.
"It's nothing, Mikey. Don't worry about it." Donatello replied, getting back to the engine.
"Okay, well… I'll call you when dinner's here, dude." Michelangelo told his brother, looking back, a little worried. He didn't understand what had just happened, but he had a feeling it wasn't good.
About a half-hour past before he was bothered again, this time by Raph. He suddenly felt sick when he knew what was going to happen.
"Pizza's here!" Raph said, giving him a thumbs-up. Donatello didn't know why. Wasn't Raphael the one who didn't want him to be eating?
But he would have to go eat, or Splinter might get angry at him. He didn't want to eat, more then anything in the world he didn't want to eat. Mainly in front of his brothers, who would probably just ignore him the entire time anyway. He sighed and stood up, as if he were walking to his own execution.
He sat with his brothers on the couch while they ate. Splinter, not surprisingly, was there, though he seemed contented to watch the soap he'd recorded while the other three brothers complained that they wanted to watch something. Donnie didn't complain. He was too busy staring at the pizza slice. It was just sitting on his plate, silently mocking him and all his attempts to actually be as good as his brothers at something.
He knew if he didn't eat, it would cause a bigger scene then what happened in his lab. But at the same time, he felt so bad about the last few weeks, all of the lying… Part of him just wanted to tell them all the truth. It wasn't that bad was it? He was just on a diet. It wasn't like he was doing anything wrong. Shell, his brothers would probably even cheer him on. They all thought he was overweight anyway. They'd be proud of him, wouldn't they?
… Or maybe not. He kept his mouth shut.
He finally picked up the pizza and started eating before Splinter noticed his hesitation. He tried to tell himself it was for the best, he'd make up for it later. He honestly tried to enjoy his first actual meal in weeks, but he couldn't. He couldn't stop thinking about how much fat must be in the pizza, even the cheese alone meant another hour in the dojo, which he didn't have anymore. Splinter took that from him.
He ate the one slice, hoping no one would notice he didn't eat five or six like the others did, and started to the lab again. No one stopped him, though all four members of his family watched him leave. He didn't notice that, though. He figured they're all be staring at the screen, not his shell.
"Something's gotta be wrong with him." Michelangelo said, shaking his head a bit. Splinter had gone to meditate. "This is the best pizza in town! It says so right on the box."
As if that was the only proof Leonardo had seen. He had been seeing it, everyone had, really. But the answer was plain as day.
"He's just preoccupied with his geek stuff." Raphael told him, shrugging. "He'll get over it."
"But it's been a few weeks now. Maybe Michelangelo is right to be worried." Leo said. "Donnie's been known to get obsessive, but he's never been unhealthy about it before."
"He probably just eats after we all go to bed." Raph said. "Brain food. Fish and junk."
"That's probably it." Leonardo agreed, smiling. He didn't seriously think there was a problem. Just as long as Donatello figured out whatever he was trying to figure out soon, everything would be alright. He wrapped a brotherly arm around Mickey's shoulder. "He's fine, bro."
"Okay." Michelangelo said, not quite satisfied.
When Donatello got back to the lab he felt full, and it actually felt… good. But he didn't want to feel good. He wanted to be hungry. Hunger was good for him. It meant that he wouldn't be the slowest turtle. It meant that soon, if he kept trying, he would actually be useful for something other then being smart.
He finally rested his mind after arguing with it all during dinner. He knew what he had to do. What he, really, wanted to do. The thought occurred to him in between Splinter telling him he had to eat and Raphael calling him for dinner. With as much resolve as he could muster, he started out. Too nervous to do something like that inside, with Splinter only a room or two away, he went for a walk. He could get rid of it, out there, in the sewer.
It hurt much more then he thought it would, forcing himself to throw up. He thought it was just one, two, three, and done, but really it wasn't that easy. For one, he never knew he didn't have a gag reflex. Not that he'd ever tested it before, but nothing he could do would make him get rid of the food. It took six tries. Each time he thought he was going to throw up, but it never came. The back of his throat hurt already, before the sixth try when it actually came up.
His already tear-filled eyes squinted and watered more with the stinging pain, but he ignored it. Even though it hurt, he felt better now. At least now he didn't feel guilty.
A/N -EDIT!- I have replaced all the chapters with Mikey spelled the proper way! Thank you all! This chapter is a bit darker then the ones before it, right near the end. Sorry about that. It was really hard to write, so that's why it's so short. I hope the next chapter comes sooner then this one. I just got a pet bunny. I was gonna name it Donatello, but it's a girl bunny. Sigh So Chi it is. Chi-Chan fits her better anyway, since she's SO tiny! (Only eight weeks old!) So if the next chapter is late, blame Chi-Chan for being so tiny and cute! D