*Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise, 'It's a Wonderful Life', or 'The Greatest Gift.'

*Author's Notes: Chapter 3 of 'Because You Weren't There' has arrived and I'm not quite sure how describe this one. Donnie's in rare form here. XD

A great big thank you to everyone who has checked out this story and given me such awesome feedback. I appreciate it lots and lots and lots. I sure hope you all like this new chapter. Thank you very much for reading. ;)

CJ

Chapter 3 – Do You See What I See?

Even after blinking several dozen times, my eyes still refuse to cooperate. It takes a good minute or so for them to finally come into focus, and when they do, I realize with sudden gut-wrenching dread that I'm lying face down on a dirty, concrete floor.

Well, I guess that explains the painful crick in my neck.

With a great deal of effort, I raise my head up to do a quick scan of the room and assess my surroundings. It appears to be an abandoned business of some sort. There are three desks haphazardly shoved up against the back wall of the large room and a couple of office chairs overturned in the middle of the floor. Other than those few random pieces of furniture, a handful of mousetraps, and a very disoriented mutant turtle (me), the space is completely empty.

I clumsily force myself up to my unsteady feet so I can continue looking around, but nothing about the place looks at all familiar.

There's always something extremely unnerving about waking up in some strange location with no actual recollection of how you got there.

The good news is I appear to be none the worse for wear. A quick onceover of myself reveals no visible injuries or signs that I had been attacked. Aside from feeling a bit groggy and suffering from a splitting headache, there seem to be no other harmful side effects from whatever substance had been used to knock me out.

The bad news is I have absolutely no idea where I am and I don't see my bo-staff or T-phone anywhere in sight.

Super.

All I want to do at this point is drag my sorry shell back home and crawl into my nice, warm bed, but I can't risk someone stumbling across my T-phone. If Leo finds out I lost it, he'll pitch a fit. Which means I'm now going to have to go back up to the rooftop where that psycho went after me.

I grunt in disgust, more than a little miffed with myself for letting some out-of-shape, middle-aged human get the jump on me.

Clearly, all those years of ninja training are really paying off . . .

I'm just glad my brothers weren't here to witness my incompetence.

Speaking of brothers, I probably should get my tail in gear. If I don't get back to the lair soon, someone's bound to come looking for me.

Aw, sewer pickles!

If my brothers track my T-phone and find it lying abandoned on that rooftop, they're going to totally wig out. I can only imagine the epic lecture that would result.

Ugh!

Faster than the speed of light, I rush towards the front of the building and yank the door open, nearly ripping it off the hinges.

As soon as I step foot outside of the building, I stop dead in my tracks and my jaw practically drops to the ground.

I'm not even sure how to describe what I'm witnessing. I mean, I can try, but it's pretty unbelievable. Like Mikey-level unbelievable.

This is literally the weirdest thing I've ever seen, and that's saying a lot.

I'm pretty sure I'm in Chinatown. Or rather what used to be Chinatown. The view before me looks like something right out of a low-budget, sci-fi movie. Most of the structures are still standing, but their appearances have been significantly altered. They now look to be made entirely out of metal. An aluminum alloy to be more precise.

"Holy chalupa!"

It's as if I just stepped straight through a –

KRAANG PORTAL!

As if to prove my point, I hear the distinct sound of Kraangdroids approaching.

And me without my bo-staff . . .

It just doesn't get any better than this!

I quickly duck back inside the building I just left, locking the door behind me as I try to gather my wits about me again. I then crouch down so I can peer out one of the tinted front windows.

Several Kraangdroids are casually walking down the street, followed by a hideously disfigured mutant creature. A hideously disfigured mutant creature wearing a New York Knicks jersey.

Nice to see the Kraang have taken an interest in professional sports . . .

Upon further inspection, I can see that there are more of these creatures loitering about in the distance; all of them wearing what appear to be human clothing articles.

My eyes widen with dawning horror.

That's because these creatures are human, genius. Or rather they were human.

"What the heck is going on?"

"Isn't it quite obvious, Donatello?"

The sudden presence behind me startles me enough that I let out a high-pitched yelp and just about fall over backwards, but I somehow manage to regain my balance and salvage what little remains of my dignity.

Springing to my feet, I spin around and narrow my eyes into furious slits.

"You!"

Before my stalker can even try to defend himself, I have him pinned up against a wall, pressing my forearm against his throat.

"You'd better start talking!"

A sickly wheezing sound follows my command as the man feebly tries to free himself from my chokehold. In all honesty, a kitten could put up a better fight than this guy is, but for all I know, he could just be trying to fool me again. Trusting him is essentially what got me into this mess in the first place.

I growl and issue a second command, this one much more hostile. "I said talk!"

"I – I would . . . but you're – you're kind of . . . s – suffocating me."

The dude's got a point.

I let up on his neck ever-so slightly, but not enough that he can escape. I'm not about to let Mr. Helpful here douse me in that freaky pixie dust again.

"Now! Tell me what you did!"

"I . . . I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"You drugged me and dumped my body in a vacant building! Exactly what part of that wouldn't I be upset about?" The sarcasm that drenches my every word is sheer perfection, but I don't think Herman even notices it. He's too busy cowering in fear.

Why do I suddenly feel like the bad guy here? This wacko attacked me!

"I didn't drug you, per se. I just – I just needed some time to set this whole thing up."

"Uh, yeah. That would still be drugging me. And what do you mean 'set this whole thing up?' What exactly did you do?" My patience is wearing dangerously thin, making it more and more difficult not throttle this guy. Seriously. I was already in a bad mood to begin with.

"I just gave you what you asked for, Donatello." The man's rather far set eyes start to shimmer in the soft, pink haze gleaming in through the windows while his round face dips down into a frown.

Having grown up under the same roof as Hamato Michelangelo, I recognize the man's pitiful expression for what it is.

Facial extortion!

"Correct me if I'm wrong here, but I don't recall asking you to send me to some weird, alternate dimension!" Once again, my eye is doing the twitching thing, but in this case, it just might be working to my advantage. I bet it looks cool. Probably makes me look way more intimidating.

Alas, the crooked smile that spreads across Herman's face tells me otherwise.

"This isn't an alternate dimension, Donatello. This is New York City. Christmas Eve, two-thousand-thirteen. The Kraang took over the Earth about a year ago."

"That's a lie! My brothers and I stopped the Kraang's crazy plan to invade the planet!" With that said, I release my hold on the man's neck so I can strike a rather arrogant pose. We don't really get a lot of opportunities to boast about our accomplishments to others, so I feel the need to savor this moment.

But the moment of pride doesn't last for long.

"No. You didn't." The matter-of-fact way Herman states this instantly rubs me the wrong way.

"Yes! We did! I distinctly remember it, since I was there and all!" My previously arrogant pose is replaced by one of disgust. I fold my arms across my plastron in a huff and glare daggers at the man.

"You didn't save the planet, Donatello, because you weren't there to save April from the Kraang. Don't you get it?"

There's a childlike expression on the man's face that hardly seems appropriate given the circumstances. It's like he's enjoying this.

What'd I tell you? Fruitcake!

"Get what? What are you even talking about?"

"Really? I thought for sure you of all people would be able to figure this out. You're supposed to be a genius, right?"

"Okay, I'm just gonna ignore that last comment." I take a moment to scowl at the man before continuing. "So, what exactly should I have figured out?"

"That you've been given a chance to see what a huge difference your life has made. You know, like that old holiday movie that everyone claims is the greatest Christmas movie of all time?"

"'Die Hard?'" If this guy's trying to draw a parallel to that movie, he's doing a terrible job of it.

For the first time, Herman finally shows a hint of frustration, but it's short-lived. His lopsided smile soon returns in full force.

"No, no. Not that one. The black and white one from the 1940's, where the guy's guardian angel shows him what the world would be like if he had never been born. You know the one."

"Actually, I don't. I'm a genius, not a movie buff. Besides, my younger brother's in charge of the entertainment in the lair, and there's no way in shell he'd ever watch something with the word 'angel' in the description."

Again, I see a flicker of frustration pass the man's features, but it's just as fleeting as before.

"The point is, I've given you a very, very special gift, Donatello. You actually get to see what things would be like if you'd never been mutated."

Have I mentioned this guy's a total goob? Because I probably should have by now.

"So, what you're telling me is that I singlehandedly prevented the Kraang from taking over the Earth?"

My observation makes Herman do this strange-looking happy dance. It's either that or the poor guy's having a seizure. When he's done gyrating about, he gives me two enthusiastic thumbs up.

"Yes! Precisely!"

"Well, that's a bit anticlimactic, don't you think? Aren't you and your ghost buddies gonna take me around to see Christmases past or future or something?" The skepticism in my tone is glaringly obvious.

This comeback seems to finally strike a real nerve. Herman scrunches his face up in anger and snaps out his response.

"That's a different movie!"

I just can't resist the temptation to further mock the guy.

"Book, technically. The classic one from the 1840's, where the rich guy's deceased business partner shows him what a selfish jerk he is. Written by Charles John Huffam Dickens. You know the one."

Aw, I love the way my mind works.

"I KNOW THE BOOK!" The once happy-go-lucky man has now resorted to yelling and I have to lean back in order to keep from getting spit on.

Apparently, Herman doesn't appreciate my sense of humor.

After a few moments, the guy calms down and looks embarrassed for his little outburst.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lost my temper like that."

Really? The guy apologizes for raising his voice to me, but not for drugging or kidnapping me? That makes a whole lot of sense.

Come to think of it, nothing about this situation makes any sense.

"I don't care that you lost your temper! All I care about is turning things back to the way they were before! So, are you using some kind of holographic imaging system or is this a high-tech form of virtual reality?"

"No . . . it's nothing like that. I – I'm not any good with computers or technology." The man rubs his neck sheepishly and bites his bottom lip as though he's nervous.

"Okay, then what are you using to make all this look real and how do we shut it off?"

"You can't simply shut it off, Donatello. This is real."

I'm about to laugh at this when I see that the man's face is the picture of seriousness.

He actually believes this is real!?

I think it's time for me to get the heck out of dodge.

"Riiiiiiiight." I drag out this word for several long seconds while I take a couple steps backwards. "Well, if you'll kindly tell me where my bo-staff and phone are, I'll just be on my merry way."

"You don't own a bo-staff or a phone, Donatello. You wouldn't have a need for such things if you were never mutated."

But yet, I'm standing here, still wearing all of my gear, not to mention I AM MUTATED.

This is insane! I need to get away from this lunatic.

Without so much as a word, I bolt out of the building, unarmed and alone.

I know it's not the brightest thing I've ever done, but hey, I'd much rather take my chances with the Kraang than spend another minute with Captain Cuckoo.

Oh, man.

If I actually manage to make it out of this alive, it'll be a Christmas miracle.

To be continued . . .

*Author's Notes: I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. Unlike Herman, I absolutely LOVE Donatello's sense of humor.

Just a heads up . . . Things are going to get pretty dramatic in the next chapter. It's a bit of a tearjerker. Oh, and I should note that you won't have to wait too long for an update. I plan on posting the final two chapters next week. =D

As always, if you're enjoying this or any of my other stories, please take a moment to favorite, follow, like, reblog, review, and/or comment. I truly do appreciate the feedback and hearing from all of you always makes me smile. Thanks so much for reading. ;) CJ