A/N: Well I finally got around to Donnie's fear. It took some thinking and I do feel this would be his greatest fear. I have also had a second thought. I had such fun writing this chapter and with the what ifs that came from doing so …. Would anyone be interested in this chapter being a first chapter in a story about this situation?

Ch Rating: M – For some not so nice language, emotional themes and Character death

Ch Summery: Donnie's greatest fear is revealed in a heart stopping drug induced vision of reality.

Fic Rating: M for all the above and then some.

Disclaimer: I do not own TMNT, or anything connected there in. I make no money from my writings. This is just one fans way of expressing a true love for the show.

That out of the way…. On with the show.

Donnie's Dream

Fear

The sounds of an early morning news program flitted from the den and into the kitchen where four brothers and their father sat around a table enjoying a Christmas morning breakfast. They were all in high spirits sharing stories and jokes mixed with laughter which seemed to take on the form of a tangible blanket of warmth over every heart. They were currently discussing the best time to open the many gifts, which waited in the den.

"No time like the present, for presents!" Mikey offered intelligently.

A good-natured pop on the head turned into a noogie by Raph. Leo and Donnie laughed as their brother struggled half heartily, all over seen by the smiling eyes of Master Splinter. The fight was forgotten when Splinter rose, absently rubbing his arm. The training the night before had been strenuous for all of them.

"My Sons, It is time for gifts."

Plates abandoned and forgotten on the table as a blur of green surged from the kitchen and into the den. Splinter smiled, moving slowly (he was not as young as he once was) as he made his way into the den. By the time he reached the den all the gifts had been separated and each turtle watched him, waiting to be told to begin.

Slowly Splinter sat down in his chair, hiding a wince rather well. The chair was old and worn but he adored it and would not see it replaced despite his sons attempt to do so. He smiled as his sons watched him like… well like kids at Christmas.

"Wait my sons."

They looked deflated but did as he asked, waiting as he retrieved something from his robe. It was small and wrapped in plain brown paper. Slowly, he extended it out toward them. As Leo moved to take the parcel a strangled sound of pain slopped past their masters defenses. Splints hand gripped his own upper arm and in doing so the gift slipped from his fingers.

The gift was forgotten, the turtles moved forward as one to their father's side.

"No!" Splinter raised his hand, halting them.

"No, My sons… I am fine… See to you gift."

The turtles exchanged mutually helpless glances but bent to his will as Leo stopped down and retrieved the parcel. His brothers gathered around him and together they opened it. A soft murmur was emitted from all at its contents. Each continued to cast worried looks at their sensei that seemed to be using all he knew to conceal from them the waves of pain that danced across his aged features. His hand moved to his chest.

"Master, Please-" Donnie started.

He had yet to look at the present, his eyes remained on his father. Something was very wrong.

"My … son- … your gift." His master struggled to redirect his attention.

Finally Donnie turned, "Wow".

It was leather bound photo album containing pictures of them at various stages of development.

The cover contained a picture of all five of them, it must have been the first day they used the old camera Splinter had found. They were three at most.

Another of Donnie and Mikey coloring around age five.

Leo and Raphael curled up together cowering from some scary movie on the T.V. around seven.

There were easily 300 pictures to be stared at after all the gifts were opened, for now only time for skimming would be allotted. The final picture contained the picture taken just before breakfast on that day. Splinter stood in the middle of his sons. Leo and Raphael on either side, each with a hand on his shoulder. Mikey and Donny were on the opposite side of their brothers, each with their arms around their brother. Everyone was laughing, above splinters head was the sign on the wall that had been with them for as long as they could remember: Sewer Sweet Sewer. Under the picture in what was normally a very pristine print, but now was slanted and shaking: Their Master's handwriting.

My Sons, you are my family and I am yours.

With one portion gone, we are un whole but we remain family.

Family, Memories, and thoughts of the future can fill that void.

You all have made me so very proud.

Be strong for each other.

I love you.

Father.

The concerned murmurs and background noise of the TV faded into silence as they all puzzled over the inscription on the last page. Leonardo was the first to turn to their master for an explanation. His mouth became agape and he reached for Donnie. A urgent pull that nearly pulled Donnie off his feet caused him to look at Leo. He followed his gaze and cried out when he saw what his brother saw.

Master Splinter was still sitting in his old chair. His face turned and his eyes still watching the gathering of his sons. His muzzle wore a grim smile, as though he forced the pain aside for a last look at happiness. The walking stick was still cradled in his hand but there was no tightness to his grip. There was no movement from their master's body. No blinking, his eyes remained on them as if a sign of eternally watching over them. His hands were still with no sign of the tremors they had been noticing for weeks. His chest lay still, evidence to no breath nor heartbeat.

"Master Splinter!" Mikey found his voice first.

"Don!" Raph was behind Don and shoved him forward.

Something in Don's brain snapped when he was shoved forward. He reached their master his hands searching amid the gray fur on his neck for a pulse.

Nothing.

Heartbeat?

Nothing.

Respiration?

Nothing.

Donnie's hands trembled while his brothers hovered around him.

"Donnie do something!" Mikey nearly screamed at him, despite being held back by Raphael.

"Help me get him on the floor." Donnie shouted at Leo.

Together they moved him to the floor, Leo moved back almost at once. Leaving Donnie to work some miracle to bring him back.

Donnie's hand found his breastbone and began compressions. He had to be careful, his father was old and much smaller than he was, he could do as much harm as good if he wasn't careful. His own heart was racing.

"Don Fix this!" Leo was shouting.

Donnie began the breaths trying in vein to ignore just how cold he felt. He should not be this cold, this soon. How cold had he been earlier? Why didn't he tell them?

Back to compressions, he went his body tense from fear and panic only adding to the strain of CPR. All around him he could hear them shouting.

"Donnie, Please!" Mikey's voice was high and fearful, now more clinging to Raph then being held back by him.

"Don, Do something" Raph shouted over the roar of Donnie's heart.

"Donatello, Save him." Leo begged.

Breath again, his own lungs burned, his blood roared in his ears. Why didn't they help? Why was it all on him?

"Donnie, Don't let him die!" Mikey was screaming now, how long had it been?

"Donnie, please, do something." Raph was crying.

"Donnie!" Leo's composer was gone, his voice raising by the second.

Compressions, his back and arms were burning. How did they expect him to fix this? He was old, very old in human standards, ancient in rats. He was not God. Why did they expect him to cure what no scientist could? Old age.

"Donnie!" Leo.

"Don!" Raph

"Donnie!" Mikey

Breaths. Their master knew this was coming, he understood. That was made clear in the passage in the album and the album it's self. That didn't change that he had found the one thing he couldn't fix. Death.

"Please Don!" Raph.

"Donnie, We need him!" Leo.

"Donnie, don't let our father die!" Mikey

Compressions. Donatello, the "turtle with a big brain", "brainiac", "know it all", "bookworm. He could turn a toaster into a nuclear fusion device. What good was that now. All the time he spent in his lab learning was time he spent away from his father. Time he took to learn, to learn things that when he needed them the most, were useless.

Breaths. Useless, that's what he was. As his arms, back, and lungs burned, and his brain and heart screamed…he was useless. Under cramping hands, his master remained just as still as he had always been. Just as dead as he was.

"Donnie!"

"Don!"

"Donnie!"

Compression. Their screams echoed in his brain joining with his own self-hatred. What good was he? All he had learned was useless. All his effort to learn and test things was utterly pointless.

Pointless…

Useless…

His Master was dead.

No.

His Father was dead.

His brothers looked to him to save their father.

To protect him, and he had protected them their entire lives.

What did Donatello do?

Failed.

He had killed their father.

His father.

Now all he wanted to do…was join him.

Donnie's arms gave out and with a sob he collapsed atop the body of his father, pleading forgiveness though uneven breaths and burning lungs. As to be expected…his father remained silent.

Well at least that's this writers interpretation of what would be Donnie's greatest fear. Conquering everything but unable to save those you love.

Thanks to all who have read.

This chapter took a lot out of me writing, I really hope you all saw that and enjoyed.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed I'll be updating my thanks to reviews shortly.