Hey guys, thank you so much for your sweet reviews! You know I love you guys :) Did anyone else notice the Authors Note was in the middle of the story last chapter? That was so not intentional I swear, I thought I had put it at the top. Oh well! I'll make sure to be more careful next time. It's fixed now, so that's that. Sorry.
The first thing Leo was aware of was the sound of Donatello screaming. It felt so far away, so muffled, that his first thought was to believe he was dreaming. It was rare on occasion when Leonardo was aware that he was in a dream world, and would find himself floating in lucid territory. But there was something definitely off this time. He couldn't find himself to place it right away, and instead decided not to dwell in this rare lucid state. Forcing his eyes open, he hissed as blinding white light filled his vision.
Working his way to opening his eyes once more, he blinked rapidly in attempt to adjust to the light. Donnie was still screaming. Wake up, make the sound go away, he willed himself, clenching his fists at his sides from where he lay on his shell. But it wouldn't go away. It lingered, and he could begin to make out the sobs and breaths between screams. That was when he realized, this wasn't a lucid nightmare.
Still in a daze, he found himself disoriented. Though he could still hear his brother, there were other voices with it. Regular speaking voices, none in panic or haste. Leonardo's skin fell cold as he began to unfold the reality of the situation. Turning his head to his right, he could barely make out the green fuzz that was his purple-masked brother.
Like himself, his brother was bound to a chrome table, fighting his restraints with screams ripping from his throat. Panic slammed into the pit of Leonardo's stomach, and he jerked in response. His eyelids heavy, he fought to stay awake and attempted to move. Fetters held him back, and he found he could not go anywhere.
He could match the calm voices to the doctors milling around his brother, clipboards resting with the bottoms against their hips and their slow note-taking. "Subject is at a potential 3.1 as a highest. Disregard that, it's now at a 3.4." One was speaking to the others.
Still out of it, Leo blinked several times in attempt to make the image before him clearer. Donnie was still screaming, and it was beginning to drive him to attack. Though he knew there was no chance of freeing himself, especially in this state. He decided to speak, hoping to catch the attention of the doctors. However, his frazzled brain refused to make any sense, and the only thing he could muster through his lips was a broken, "D-Donnie…" and a weak shift in attempt to get free.
"We don't… the resources… wait until tomorrow when we get the… should we take him to his chambers?" The voices were fading in and out as one doctor left his brother's side, taking a filled needle from the table and approaching the older turtle.
"That would be wise, doctor." The other replied without looking up from his work.
Leo's eyes never left his brother as the doctor approached him and set the needle against his arm. "Don," Leo muttered weakly, blinking several times. The doctor said nothing, and he felt a prick against his shoulder. Nausea and tiredness swept over him, causing his eyelids to grow heavy once more and drag over his eyelids. He felt his body relax against his will, and though he fought to keep awake, nothing was able to fight the chemical.
Donnie's screams continued even as he had blacked out.
Raph paced when he was anxious. It was a nervous habit, really. Back and forth, back and forth, he walked circles in this tiny cell. Three hours in this cell, no guards even passing, no key, stone-hard bars, and not even a hint of his brothers' safety. There were dents in one bar, where he had begun to continually pound at it in attempt to break it free. They were far too strong to break. He had been stripped of his gear, and even his mask had been removed. He didn't care, though he truly wished he could get his hands on his sais.
His breaths had come faster and quicker as he paced, and he found himself fidgeting. He couldn't wait until a set of guards came by and he could reach out, grab one by the throat, and make him tell where his brothers were. Threaten him until he freed him, pound him a few times… Raph was seething with anger. There wasn't even fear in his mind, he only felt fury towards his captors, whoever they were. The only fear present was the fear for his brothers and their safety.
On he paced, his hands clenched in front of him. He paused, facing the stone-brick wall placed in front of him. With a mighty swing of his hand, his knuckles pounded against the hard surface. Without hesitation, he brought his second hand around to counter, hissing as his bare knuckles burned. But that didn't stop him. Again, he pounded.
Another hour passed. He was sitting with his shell against the wall now, staring through the stone bars at the wall on the other side. The silence was aggravating. What he would do to hear one of Mikey's lame jokes right now, or listen to Donnie babble, or watch as Leo made a fool of himself reciting a Space Heroes line. Raph scoffed to himself, the corner of his mouth tipping in the slightest smile.
That was when a door slammed at the far end of the hall, and footsteps echoed through the cell. Raph instantly jumped to his feet, racing to the left wall where a chain was dangling. Its head was drilled far up the wall, nearly towards the roof. Raph had been prepared for this moment.
As the footsteps grew louder, Raph leaped, grabbing the chain as noiselessly as possible and planting his feet against the wall. Pulling backwards, his shell facing the ground, he was basically standing on the wall. Adrenaline coursed through him, along with relief. Channeling his breathing and control, he waited.
Once the men had stopped at his cell, one of them had stepped forward and looked inside with a confused expression. The empty cell seemed apparently what it looked like. "Where did…" He began.
He didn't finish. With a battle cry, Raph leaped from his hiding place from the top shadowed corner and reached a hand out, wrapping his fingers around the man's neck. The man let out a cry of alarm, jerking back though it was too late. "Where are my brothers?!" Raphael spat, fury behind his voice. His eyes squinted accusingly, prepared to hurt this man.
Two guns clicked. From behind the terrified man, the other two raised their guns, aiming straight at Raphael's head. His limbs were shaking with anticipation and anger, though Raph froze with a deadly expression. "Let him go." One ordered, jerking slightly with his gun. Both men stood too far back to be reached by the ninja, and he found no opportunities.
His free hand clenching with frustration, he jerked his hold forward and pushed the man roughly towards his acquaintances. Stepping back into the darker shades of the cell, Raphael kept his eyes on the men. "Where are my brothers?" He demanded again, his voice dark with hatred.
"Like we would tell you, mutant scum." The one on the left spat, lowering his gun with a disgusted expression. The one on the right gave a cocky smirk, and the one in the middle massaged the place Raph had grabbed his throat. "Touch one of us again, and we have permission to kill." He grumbled.
The turtle had no response. The three men turned to continue their routine, walking the hallway down the opposite direction. Once the door at the very end slammed shut with a sickening echo, Raph backed up until his shell hit the wall. Sliding down to a sitting position, he folded his arms on his knees, ducking his head. Sooner or later, he'd find a way out of here.
Bishop strode through the hallways, his lab coat fluttering as he walked. Pushing his sunglasses up the crook of his nose, he made an intentional turn down the hallway. Holding his keycard to the scanner, the reader bleeped in response and the little light transitioned from red to green. The other men milling around didn't dare make eye-contact, and instead worked diligently in hope of being unnoticed. As Bishop left the hallway, the men visibly relaxed.
Entering the room upon first appearance, the first thing the man laid eyes on was a small, freckled young turtle strapped to the table. "What have you gathered?"
The doctor at the far end of the room turned around, blinking nervously as he faced his superior. "U-Um…" His heart raced with his stutter, and he flipped through the pages of his clipboard nervously. The man cleared his throat, straightening as he found the right page. "Subject is in good health. Type O+ blood." He said, looking up at Bishop.
Through his sunglasses, the superior looked down at the mutant, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. He seemed peaceful, calm, and it was a shame that his graceful ninjitzu art would go to such a waste. Bishop paused, one hand on his chin while the other supported his elbow, and looked the creature over, half admiring it. But as always, his plans were far more important than keeping an art alive in one… or four… people. Or were they even people at all? Bishop didn't know, nor did he think he wanted to care.
"Hook him up." He ordered, smiling slightly as the doctor stepped forward, attaching the cords and wires to the young mutant's body. "I will return to see your results."
As Bishop turned to leave, the doctor pulled out a radio and ordered for two more doctors to come assist him. The door opened against the superior's hand, and he waved himself out. Two men brushed past him, being careful not to make contact, and the door closed shut. From behind Bishop, the man could hear a young boy's scream rip through the door. It was then that he knew his studies had begun to fall into motion.