Guys, this is a special chapter! So... some of you may be offended because I believe in rebirth and you may believe something else. But this is the way this story goes, so yeah. Enjoy.
By the way... all you Donnie and Raph fans... they're not out of it yet.
*Cheers*
Donnie was swimming in darkness. It soothed him, like a soft blanket or the arms of a loved one.
Thinking about loved ones hurt him.
April…
He wondered what his brothers were doing right now. Raph was probably punching something. Leo would be training or meditating. Mikey would be goofing around.
But that was before.
What would they be doing now? Raph would probably be yelling at his brothers. Leo would try his best to remain calm and deal with the guilt. Mikey would still be goofing around, trying to cheer everyone up.
The darkness shifted ever so slightly, and he heard someone cry out in pain.
Donnie curled up into a ball, enjoying the darkness.
So peaceful.
He heard another cry of pain. It was confusing. Who could be in pain? He didn't recognize the voice.
Need… brothers.
This was weird. His memories were fading away. He desperately grabbed at them, to stop them going away.
Come back! Come back!
With the memories, his intelligence was also going. It scared him.
Come…
One of his oldest memories started going away. It was his first ninjitsu lesson.
He grasped at it, desperate for it. But he no longer knew what he was desperate for.
With a sudden tilt, the darkness changed, getting brighter and brighter. It hurt his eyes.
All of a sudden it stopped getting brighter. Warm, soothing arms wrapped around him, and he started to cry.
"Shh." Someone whispered gently. There was something in the voice that he immediately trusted. He relaxed.
"What should we call him?" Someone else asked. This voice was also trustworthy.
"I don't know," The first voice said, "I have a list, though. How about you choose?"
He heard some rustling.
He was tired of just listening. He wanted to see.
Slowly, ever so slowly, he opened his eyes. Everything was blurry at first. He couldn't focus on everything and the brightness was almost too much. But then his eyesight focused, and he saw the kind and beautiful looking face above him. He blinked.
The person gasped, "Oh, look at his eyes!"
Someone else walked over, holding a piece of paper.
They smiled, "I think Cameron has your eyes."
The other person looked at them, smiling, "Is that the name you chose?"
"It sounds nice. Plus, he does have a bit of a crooked nose."
They frowned and looked at Cameron, "I suppose."
Cameron's lips turned up, which formed his first smile.
The young child in a woman's arms was no longer called Donatello. He was called Cameron.
Raph struggled against the darkness.
When I wanted to leave the pain behind, I didn't want endless boredom!
Something happened. A memory flew away. The memory of dying. He frowned as another and another flew away.
What are my memories doing?
They kept flying away. Slowly at first, but then faster and faster. He tried to move in the darkness, but his body wouldn't obey. He struggled.
Give me my memories!
He kicked out. The only response he got for that was a cry of pain.
He twisted around, trying to get the memories. Nothing happened. They went away. Slowly, he found himself forgetting. Even his strongest memory. The first time he kissed Mona.
The thought of her made him feel like he was about to cry.
She'll never love me again.
Mentally, he frowned. Who will never love him again?
The darkness swirled around him suddenly, like a tornado of light and dark. It was becoming more light by the second.
When the brightness became too much to bear, he started tossing about and screaming. He wanted the light to go away.
"Turn off the lights." He heard someone say. Soon after, the brightness dimmed. Not nearly enough, but he could bear it. He stopped screaming.
"Look at my little Jackson." Someone else crooned, an obvious smirk in their voice.
"He's got a strong pair of lungs." Someone else noted.
"Pfft, he's just mad."
Jackson opened his eyes and spotted the face above his. They looked quite nice.
"I think he's going to be a handful," The face above him spoke, "Luckily, I was a handful. So I'm not new to the subject."
Raphael was in the past, forgotten. Jackson was him now. He had to accept it, even though he had no choice.
He had no memories, after all.