A/N.

Alright everybody!

That took WAY too long to update, lots of insanity happening in my life lately, but things have finally calmed down now, which means that the next chapter can commence! We've got a bit of a breather from the last chapter, before we dive back into the action next time. Donnie has a lot to ponder…

So let's find out what he's pondering!

And once you're done, leave a review, favorite, follow, and as always…

Enjoy!

Chapter Three.
A Balancing Act.

October 4th, 2013.

(Donnie's POV).

I've heard it said that when a gymnast has stepped out on the floor for his or her routine, they are acting.

This is not simply for their leisure. It is for their own gain. They want to win. They all want to be the one holding the gold medal in their hands, standing above the rest, displaying how much work they had done in order to boost their way to where they were now. They have to look tough, and hold up a front so no one can see any turmoil inside their brains. It's their only chance to win.

They were born to fly.

They were trained to stretch and bend to their limits.

They are not afraid of anything.

I have never competed in gymnastics in my life. I never tasted the sweet victory, felt the heavy medal be pressed into my hands. Heck, I rarely even feel like I've ever made an accomplishment in ninjutsu training.

But I know what it feels like when they soar.

I had to be very small when I realized I was interested in certain skills that not only ninjutsu possessed. Two, maybe one-and-a-half. But not small enough to have non-existent memories. This was one of the few from that time that I carried with me into the present day.

We were learning how to do flips, cartwheels, how to use our limbs to launch ourselves into the air. I was absolutely enthralled. I had never seen anything like this, and now I had grown big enough, and my limbs had grown long enough, to give it a try. For the next few weeks, it was absolute bliss as I began to test these new skills. They had awakened inside of me, blooming like a flower in a newborn spring. It felt so natural.

It was around this time frame when I first heard the word 'gymnastics'. I may have even heard it from my father himself, him having likened my surprisingly advanced acrobatics skills to the artful sport. Eventually, we moved onto the next skills once Sensei deemed our sufficient for the time being, but I kept going. When I first saw the Sydney Olympics that following summer, when I first saw all of those men and women flying on bars, balancing hoops, and springing across the floors of the enormous gym, that was it.

I was absolutely hooked.

And I think my father saw this. My young, tiny self was being drawn further into this new world of handsprings and balance beams, and away from the art my family had held dearly to us for generations. He may have been worried I would prioritize one over the other, losing my desire to be a ninja altogether. This was something Tang Shen had seen, a slight obsession to pass down our craft that actively drove her to discourage our father from teaching Karai, then an infant.

Or… maybe he had thought I was too young. Gymnastics is pretty dangerous, and I could have hurt myself if I did something wrong. It could have been too hard at that age for me to be attempting what I was. It might have even been one of the more… difficult days, as we call them, which we had more often back then. He wouldn't trade us for the world, and we know it, but we were extremely hard to handle when we were toddlers. There were four of us, and he was a single parent. It didn't take much to push his buttons.

All I know is that he meant well. But I knew very well that my father isn't always good at showing his best intentions. I should know. I had inherited that from him.

Obviously, he wanted to avoid discouraging me, but eventually, I had disobeyed one too many times. Whenever we moved onto another lesson, I would take any opportunity to run to a corner and begin to flip and cartwheel to my heart's content, not understanding that we had moved on from this skill. I might have been too young to distinguish the difference between gymnastics and ninjutsu. Who knows?

When I had gone back to my corner, I was suddenly swept back up and placed in the spot I had left merely moments before, planted in between both of my older brothers, doing what had to be the earliest of our katas. All four of us were confused, them about why I kept running off, me about why I had been stopped. Frustrated that I had somehow been foiled, I turned to go right back to my corner, only to find my father blocking me, a light look of concern on his face.

"No, Donatello. I know you are enjoying yourself with those moves, but they are not the objective today. We can come back to them another time."

His explanation had been soft, but firm. And we never did go over them again. All of the more advanced flips and springs, we taught ourselves. I never did figure out why we never revisited those. The likelihood of him neglecting them on purpose is low, because that's not something he would just up and do on purpose…

I'm sure of it. He wasn't that scared that ninjutsu would be usurped by anything else… I hope so, at least. Because if he is, then that's an issue.

Anyway, he got what he wanted in the end. I did stop attempting to abandon lessons, so he must have been happy about that. But it was jarring, and it did hurt me. I had found something I had enjoyed, and it felt like he was actively trying to stop me from pursuing this new, exciting discovery.

I also felt like he would shut me down if I tried to bring it up again, even to this very day. It made me a little less trusting in confiding things with him. My ninjutsu skills have been suffering ever since too, and I can never perform to his standards. He says nothing of course, but he doesn't have to. They are laughable in my entire family's eyes. He's just the only one who never says a word about it.

But little did he know, that even thirteen years later, his efforts had been in vain all along. The crackdown on my amateur gymnast aspirations had only strengthened my desire to become one more than ever before, and my littler self was absolutely determined to stop at nothing to make sure that came true.

For the next four years, I did my best to learn with the little resources I had. I had no access to anything but learning from the television. Slowly, I watched the best gymnasts at the time, and copied their every move. They were my guides in everything to do with the art, and whatever new skill they displayed, I picked up. I was soaking everything in as if I were a sponge. If Men's Events were on, I would watch carefully, and try it out for myself afterwards. If Women's Events were on, it made no difference, I went ahead and did the exact same, learning their skills as well. Trampolining wasn't something I had the right equipment for, but it still gave me a lot of good tips on Tumbling. Even Rhythmic Gymnastics was something I threw myself into with a passion.

The only issue was that I had no actual apparatuses to practice on, but when I was six, that immediately changed when I realized I could simply make my own. The vigor I displayed while making each and every one was unrivaled, carefully constructing everything in secret. Now to find a place to put everything, somewhere where no one would be able to find…

I found a little alcove, not too far away from the lair, maybe twenty minutes walking at best. It was just perfect, and I quickly set up my gear there. Now with actual apparatuses to practice on, I was free to advance as far as I wished, becoming everything I wanted and more. I knew the ins and outs of the sport, and would come and practice as much as possible, sometimes days on end if I needed space. Gymnastics became my second devotion, only being topped by science.

And no one could know that I was a gymnast. So no one could take it away from me.

Unfortunately, I can't practice these skills today. My stitches would surely pop if I tried, and I knew not to push it, even if my wishful mind was tempted. Instead, I had pulled a small tumbling mat out, laid it on the floor, and eased myself down on top of it. It had been extremely contemptuous to lie here as long as I wanted, quietly on the mat, absent-mindedly running my fingers in circles over the smooth, vinyl canvas that made up its surface. My fingers were my anchor, my grounding point to the earth.

I was glad for the two days I had had to take it easy.

It turns out, I did have a concussion after all. This was no surprise to me, no huge news. It was on the extremely mild side, despite the pain it initially inflicted, and Sensei said it would clear up quickly. But yesterday was my day of rest. I had spent it sleeping peacefully in the dojo most of the time, having occasional visitors, and only staying awake for a few minutes at a time.

They could tell I wasn't my usual self, but marked it down to me trying to shake off the shock of my attack. I was certainly going to recover from that though. What I was really worrying about was trying to keep my cool while my foggy brain processed more information than I could store in its hard drive. Mixed with a dash of rotten, overworking hormones, and I was surprised I could even masquerade that I was fine at all…

(Two Days Earlier…)

… Amazingly, phase one of the operation went better than I had even dared to hope.

True to Leatherhead's words, my father was extremely worried by my radio silence. He had been pacing the living room when we arrived, which was apparent when his frantic call of my name startled me back into the waking world. My head, oh my pulsating, pounding head, just couldn't take much more noise. When I was handed over to Splinter, I managed to garble out a feeble request for some sort of pain medication, which was administered immediately.

It took about an hour or two for everything to settle down. Leatherhead bid us goodbye shortly after my return to alert the rest of the Mutanimals that I had been found, and they could call off the search. I was moved to the dojo to spend the next twenty-four hours being monitored until my family was sure I had a (mostly) clean bill of health. They would have taken me to my room, but my bed was a loft, and they never trusted me up there by myself when I was indisposed, for safety reasons.

Once I was laid out on the mat that would serve as my resting place for the foreseeable future, my father got to work on dulling the pain, and I nearly conked out the moment the medication was administered. Splinter made sure I stayed awake so he could check my head (about time), and it was around here that my siblings finally made their grand entrance.

All three of my brothers had bloodshot eyes and purple circles lining their lower eyelids, meaning they had been awake all night waiting for me to come back. All three were relieved when they saw me, not even caring about how dazed I was. Instantly, they knelt down, Raph and Mikey on either side of me, and Leo behind my head. They took their classic guarding positions, which we have all done wherever one of us is down with an injury or illness. It never ceases to amaze me, the instincts that take over when one of your own needs help.

Despite my drowsiness, I had to give Leo and Raph credit. They had done a fantastic job keeping Mikey calm during my absence, and while he was still smiling and telling jokes (albeit being uncharacteristically quiet during the process), I could tell he was trying to be serious about the situation, eyes flickering between my supine body and the door. Well, at least it was better than 'Dr. Pest-en-stein'. The last thing I needed was him having messed with my lab while I was gone.

For a while, I simply laid still and silent, calmly letting my father tend to me. Unlike the perception that most people have about me, I'm not exactly a medical professional. I like knowing how my body works, and what to know when something's wrong (important knowledge for everyone to look out for), but by no means do I want to extensively practice myself. As a matter of fact, I happen to have a massive phobia of blood, and I've passed out at the sight of it on more than one occasion.

Lucky me…

Splinter on the other hand, grew up in a different world. Being an active ninja in Japan required an extensive knowledge in medicine. When in school, he decided to study medicine, while Shredder, wanting for brute force instead of wisdom, opted for army training instead. Splinter went all the way through medical school, performing at the peak of his skills, and graduating top of the class. But his mentors were baffled when he disappeared without explanation, and didn't actually get a job as a doctor or surgeon. He got the information he needed, then returned to his clan duties, wisened.

Leo and I have, on occasion, ventured into the dojo to seek some of his medical knowledge. I've learned some valuable details, however small, from him when I needed them. He seemed to know everything about the study, something I didn't even have the heart to accomplish, no matter how guilty it left me feeling that I would be useless if someone was hurt (including myself, as displayed by my most recent battle).

Leo was more curious than I was. He had done well under Sensei's guidance. Sensei had even decided to teach him the sacred 'Healing Hands' mantra.

I was never offered the chance.

But I decided not to dwell, and just let him do his work. Now he wouldn't get distracted asking what was wrong when he saw my face.

The most incredible part of the whole thing was that they all, by some unearthly miracle, bought the story that I had been unconscious the entire time since the attack, and had no memory of my rescuer. After examining the sutures along my abdomen, Sensei deemed them clean and surprisingly well-executed (to him anyway. I made sure not to comment), before wrapping them in extra bandages so infection wouldn't set in. Besides that, I was given the news of the light concussion, but that was it. I knew the drill by now, and gratefully took the chance to sleep as long as I could after my ordeal.

Occasionally, I would stir from my slumber, usually from noise or for the occasional check-in. Mikey and Raph caused the first disturbance. I listened to Mikey's terrified yelps travel from one end of the lair to the other, followed by Raph's bellows. Halfway through the fun, Leo joined in, begging them to be quiet, but they paid him no attention. I was out again before I could listen to the end of it.

Sometime around midnight, I woke up again feeling like my head was about to burst. Weakly, I called for my father, who was a light sleeper, and would more than likely hear my plea for assistance. He was up in a flash, but took a quick detour to retrieve Leo. Both of them started administering the Healing Hands, Splinter to my temples, and Leo to the back of my head. Seconds after it began to take effect, I was plunged back into sleep.

The longest I had been awake was for about thirty minutes. I heard what I thought was an unfamiliar voice, but it only turned out to be Karai of all people. She was coming to the lair more often for missions, so I had assumed this was the reason for her presence. But while she was talking with Splinter, I heard bits and pieces such as "...had my Foot Soldiers out all night, I'm glad Leatherhead found him before someone else did…" and "... I don't like seeing my family hurt, especially when it's serious, and there's only so much I can do…"

So she had come to check and see if I was okay. That wasn't out of the ordinary. I remember the night I was caught in the Auman Chemicals explosion. After I had regained consciousness, she had quietly told me that she was glad I was okay. I could tell she was relieved, but at the same time, I heard guilt. The same guilt Leo carried for weeks after that incident. They thought it was their fault that I had been injured. This must have been what drove her to come after I was returned home. The memory of inadvertently causing me pain.

I didn't see her again afterwards, and she wasn't at the Lair yesterday morning. I had been given the okay to leave the Dojo, and to move freely around our home as long as I kept it to a minimum. But they certainly didn't want me out on the surface for a few days…

Which was going to make tonight's mission very, very, difficult.

Come to think of it, I think this hesitation to let me go up, the one obstacle keeping me from my promise, wasn't just because of the EPF. It was playing into a pattern I had observed a month or two back.

I had asked Mikey to go into his room and scream, loudly, in order to garner Leo and Raph's attention. He did so, and they barely reacted. I watched from the hallway as they simply turned to each other, shrugged, and went back to reading or, in Leo's case, watching Space Heroes.

I wasn't surprised. Mikey shrieked over tiny things every day, so I couldn't blame them for thinking it was 'typical Mikey behavior'. But it would only make the next step of the experiment more painful for myself. I joined Mikey in his bedroom, told him to cover his ears, took a deep breath, and screamed just as loud as he had.

Within an elapsed time of exactly 4.5 seconds, Leo and Raph had flown into the room, weapons blazing, and every ounce of color drained from their faces. "What's wrong?! What hurt you?!" Raph had demanded, scanning the room for any signs of danger.

It was just as I had feared. This experiment was enacted in August, but there is no way the data would be out of date two months later. They had, seemingly overnight, become protective of me to the point of panic. I had observed their behavior in small incidents leading up to this, but I had been proven right nonetheless.

Obviously, I immediately pointed this out to them once I explained their part in my experiment, but that was only another slap in the face for me. They had looked both visibly, and knowingly guilty, meaning they were well aware of their actions, and had made no effort to eradicate them. They promised to tone it down, but weren't following through very well.

I was mad at first, but over time, I realized I couldn't blame them very much. They were terrified of losing me. That was a genuine reason.

Besides, I was one to talk. I had been the one to fall victim to that horrible night in… in…

July.

"April!... PLEASE!..."

(Present Day…)

"NO!"

I jolted into an upright sitting position, my heavy breathing echoing off the walls of the empty chamber, before I heaved a sigh of relief. I was safe underground. Nothing but me, and my equipment, and the quiet melody of the music streaming from my T-Phone lying next to the mat. Still, I was shaking. I had spiraled again. I needed a distraction before I had another panic attack.

Cautiously, I let go of the side of the mat, which I had unknowingly held in a grip so hard, my fingernails had left indents. Knowing I needed to, I quickly checked my stitches. The sudden motion had made them sting, but everything was where it should be, and there were no breaks in the thick, blue threads. No sign of blood. That in particular was good. It wouldn't be healthy for me to pass out again, not with my head in this condition.

Oh, if only I wasn't injured! The state of my brain was nightmarish, and the two things I had to take my mind off of everything were, at the moment, off limits. First off, I knew that I was temporarily restricted from any dangerous lab experiments, or building or upgrading anything. Second, even I wasn't stupid enough to attempt something as major as gymnastics with stitches, so that was out of the question too.

This whole situation didn't sit well with me at all. I like to keep my mind and body busy, I like to give them something to do so I'm not alone with thoughts of things like… like… oh, I don't know, maybe the probability which shouldn't be a probability but for some strange f***ing reason is a probability of encroaching doom?

I get those thoughts way too often.

Okay, new topic… the Sire.

Inwardly, I groaned, but I knew I had to broach the subject eventually. The agreed meeting was tonight, and I had some thinking to do beforehand.

Obviously, I had been thrown the other day with the news of my heritage. The thought that I'm simply something else, that I can become something else at will, was what daunted me. Did I even want to transform? If so, would it hurt? How would it work? I had a huge shell, there was no room for a tail!

I needed those answers badly, and I was glad I would be receiving them tonight. The Sire genes were in my blood, and there was no removing them, but I certainly hadn't come to terms with having them yet. There were so many unknowns, and I needed to know more about everything in general before I formed any solid opinions.

I hoped I could also make up for my horrible presentation the other day. The embarrassment of the incident had fully set in, and I dreaded walking into this meeting knowing fully well that they had not only seen me lose in battle and had to patch me up themselves, but also cry, throw up, and generally act ridiculous in general. And we were supposed to be talking about an alliance now? Maybe they were just pitying me after the display in the hospital.

On the topic of the actual alliance itself… I was still in the dark. Obviously, our goal was fighting against the EPF, which I was all for. But to keep it a secret from my family? That was a whole different ball game, and the whole thing rested on my shoulders… I couldn't ensure that wouldn't land me in massive trouble at home when they inevitably unearthed it. Would it hurt them? No, Lilah promised to back me up. I was gonna hold her to that, Queen or not.

… Was I ready to ask about my mom?

Now that was a much trickier question. If anything, that was what scared me the most. A mother. A whole other family that I never knew existed. To be entirely honest, I didn't hold anything against her, whoever she was. That much I knew for sure. She had no intention of creating me on purpose, and I wasn't going to blame her for the accident. It was out of everyone's hands.

… Did I want to meet her at all?

No, too soon. Too soon for that question, even. I didn't even know who she was, for goodness sake! Ugh, I was still so in the dark on what to do!… It's exactly what Splinter is always talking about. I think too much…

Wait…

Maybe that's the approach I should take for tonight. For everything I will learn tonight. I mean, I'm going in blind anyway, so what was the harm? I wanted to see what the Sire were like, ask as many questions as possible, weigh my options for a viable alliance, and figure out what to do from there. Seeing everything for myself will only strengthen my decisions from here on in.

Huh. Suddenly I felt calmer than I had in the last three days.

Don't think. Just do.

I stood, wobbling slightly as I did, and looked around the room. The bars standing high and mighty, the rings gleaming as they cascaded from their ceiling mount, the vault, polished and ready for use… this whole room was easily my Magnum Opus. I have taken on my fair share of challenges here. What was one more?

Now much more steady, I glanced at the balance beam, one of my personal favorites. "Not easy, but doable. This'll just be another balancing act. Something I'm good at." I told myself, taking a moment to breathe.

And with that, I turned and departed for the Lair. Now to find a way out without my family ever realizing I was gone…

A/N.

I'll admit, I wasn't quite satisfied with the final bit of this chapter, but I'm glad the chapter addressed as a whole what I wanted it to. We got a little glimpse into Donnie's personal world here, and it looks like he's already been keeping some secrets before he even encountered the Sire at all.

I am absolutely in love with the idea of Donnie being a gymnast, contortionist, acrobat, you name it. We've seen little hints throughout episodes that would point to it (he can freaking WALK ON HIS HANDS! And he looked like he was having WAY too much fun doing so), so it was very fitting. It's going to come into play later on, but this was just a setup for the particular part of the storyline. This is something that means a lot to Donnie, and I'm so glad we got to see that here.

Besides that, while I came up short when he got to the actual 'thinking it over' bit, it kinda works with the overall theme. Poor Donnie has been thrust headfirst into the unknown here, and he's struggling to figure out what to do. The decision to figure out more and go from there is honestly pretty smart.

So, from here, Donnie is gonna attend the meeting, and I'm super excited for that, because we're gonna meet more of the Siyunian Royal Family! Some have already made their debuts in 'Sissy', but this is where all of them really get to shine. There's a lot more to learn about the Sire, and I can't wait to tell you all more about it.

Until then, that was Chapter Three! I hope you all sincerely enjoyed this installment, and once you're done, leave a review, favorite, follow, and as always…

Stay Tuned!