*Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.

*Author's Notes: Here's chapter 20 of 'Slash's Revenge' and I'm not even sure how describe this one. Let's just say it's one of my favorites in the story and leave it at that.

Immense thanks to all of you. I'm incredibly fortunate to have so many amazing friends, followers, and readers. You're all wonderful! Thank you so much.

CJ

Chapter 20 – Too Late

Each step he took seemed more difficult than the previous one, like trying trudge through a pit of tar, but he kept going regardless. Fear compelled him onward; a psychosomatic motivator of sorts.

If Donatello had to venture a guess, he'd say he was going about a quarter mile per hour, tops, even with the aid of the broom/crutch he had haphazardly grabbed back at the apartment. At this rate, he might reach the lair before the next millennium. Heavy emphasis on the word 'might.'

Maybe if he didn't have to stop to rest every thirty feet or so, he'd already be back home. As it was, he guessed he had only traveled about a mile since leaving the warehouse who knows how long ago. The pain was seriously messing with his perception of time and distance. Most likely, it was affecting his sense of direction as well. Hence, the reason he didn't dare slip down into the sewers at this point. In his currently debilitated state, he could easily get lost in the endless, murky corridors beneath the city and no one would ever find him.

Would that be such a bad thing?

Running low on faith, as well as energy, Donatello leaned his carapace against the graffiti-covered brick wall of the building beside him. The structure provided his grievously injured leg a much-needed timeout. The limb could barely support any weight. It was yet another reason his momentum had been reduced to a sloth's pace.

Then, there was the fact that he was trying to stay hidden. He had opted to stick to the dark alleyways to keep his presence undetected, but this required him to cower behind garbage dumpsters anytime he thought he heard someone or something approaching, slowing his progress even more.

Perhaps leaving the shelter of the warehouse wasn't such a good idea after all…

But the genius turtle had worried that staying in one place for too long would increase the likelihood of Slash finding him, while at the same time, decrease the probability of his family coming across him. If Donnie didn't have any idea where he was, he could only assume his family was just as clueless as to his whereabouts.

If they were even looking anymore...

"Pathetic. You always have been. That's why your brothers haven't come for you yet. They know you're weak and useless, so they stopped searching. I mean, why bother, right?"

Rubbing his right forearm back and forth across his droopy eyes, Donatello attempted to brush away the gathering moisture. A combination of sweat, tears, and utter exhaustion was making it hard to see.

"Awwww, does little Donnie need a nap? Should I get you your baba and blankie?"

The patronizing voice sent a shudder down the length of the brainiac turtle's spinal cord. Not so much because of the condescending words themselves, but because of the sickening realization that the person speaking them wasn't actually there.

The figment of his imagination now standing right beside him was simply a visual representation of his gradual descent into madness.

At least he still had the presence of mind to recognize what he was seeing wasn't real...

"Shut up, Raph! I know you're nothing more than a fever-induced hallucination, so you might as well leave me alone."

"You mean like the rest of our family did? They all just abandoned you and left you to rot in that cage."

Donatello's logical side was quick to remind him that his subconscious was merely twisting Slash's constant ridiculing into something seemingly tangible...

"You can deny it all you want, Donnie boy. The truth is, Raph always thought the least of you. He told me time and time again that you were the most useless one. An embarrassment to the clan."

Trying to make him believe that all those awful things Slash had said to him were true...

"He never missed a chance to point out what a hopeless weakling you are and how he wished you weren't related to him. He used to constantly say he couldn't believe he had such a pathetic loser for a brother."

Donatello jerked his head from side to side, trying to shake out those dark thoughts.

"No! Slash was lying. They didn't leave me. They would never... leave me. J – Just have... to keep going." Shifting his weight back onto his makeshift crutch, the wounded mutant started to hobble away. To no place in particular; just so long as it was in the opposite direction of the optical illusion of his hotheaded brother.

Unfortunately, that illusion was just as stubborn as the real thing and never even missed a beat.

"Go where, Donatello? Back home? You'll never make it there. And even if you could, we don't want you back."

While he continued to limp along, the intellectual turtle heaved out a long sigh that could've easily been mistaken for a growl. His patience was clearly being worn thin.

"Well, if you hate me that much, then I guess there's no need for you to follow me around anymore, is there?"

"And leave you out here, all alone and totally helpless? What kind of brother would that make me?" The mock caring in faux-Raphael's voice would've been enough to tick even happy-go-lucky Mikey off, so it came as no surprise when Donatello's sarcasm gushed out full force.

"Better than the one who just stood there and watched me leave the night Slash went after me!"

"What's wrong, Donnie? Still upset about what I said back at the lair? The truth hurts, doesn't it?"

A venomous retort was right on the tip of Donatello's tongue, but it shriveled up and died without a sound.

No one was there to speak it to...

"Pathetic. You always have been."

It was just him and the voices inside his head...

"Your family – they don't want you back. I can't blame 'em. You're pretty much useless."

Was this finally rock bottom? Standing in a dank alleyway, wounded, cold, dazed and alone, arguing with himself like some kind of lunatic? Was this the lowest he could get? Even worse than being treated like a mindless animal?

At least, back at the apartment, he had had food, shelter, warmth, and someone to talk to…

Okay, now I know I've gone totally off the deep end. It's either that or I'm suffering from the worst case of Stockholm Syndrome ever!

Food, shelter, warmth, and someone to talk to? Seriously? You were fed leaves once a day and kept in a cage, dummy! And let's not forget that that monster used you as his personal punching bag!

How could this possibly be worse?

You need to stop being such a drama turtle!

Cinching his eyes tightly shut, Donatello forced himself to concentrate. He was fairly certain the voice of reason was still trapped somewhere inside his tangled brain. He just needed to access it.

Think, Donatello. Think!

Ever-so-slowly, the genius turtle pried his eyelids apart and glanced over the scene, carefully weighing his options.

Slipping down into the sewers had already been ruled out.

Skulking along the alleyways had proved to be rather unsuccessful.

Taking cover inside another abandoned building wasn't going to help his cause any.

That left nowhere to go but up.

If he took to the rooftops, he could better gauge where he was. Plus, it would significantly increase the chances of his family finding him.

If they're even searching for me...

A half sigh, half whimper deflated out of the injured turtle as he tilted his head back and trailed his gaze all the way up the side of the brick wall next to him.

Never before had the top of a building looked so far out of reach. He certainly wasn't going to be able to scale up to the roof with ease like he normally could. This was going to be a long, hard, painful process.

Staggering over to the nearest fire escape, Donatello cast his trusty 'crutch' aside. As much as he needed it, he knew there was no way he would be able haul the broom up to the rooftop with him. Not so long as he had one bad arm and leg. He just had to pray there would be something up top to help him walk or things were going to get even more painful.

The scariest part was, without the broom, he was essentially defenseless. If Slash were to see him up on the roof, he wouldn't stand a chance against him.

Oh, yeah. Like you really stood a chance against him with the stupid broom...

Though the thought of Slash being up there, waiting for him like a snake in the grass, was altogether terrifying, Donatello began his woefully slow ascent up the fire escape. What typically took him seconds seemed more like an eternity. Each time he had to pull himself up, the pain was nothing shy of excruciating, but he managed to fight through it. By the time he reached the top, what little had remained of his energy was spent. He hoisted himself up over the ledge of the roof and promptly collapsed onto the gritty surface. His fatigued limbs silently thanked him for the momentary reprieve, but as good as the reprieve felt, he knew it wasn't safe to just lay there, face down on the rooftop. Not when Slash was probably out scouring the city in search of him.

While Donnie feebly attempted to push himself up with his good arm, the familiar voice inside his head was quick to taunt him for his efforts...

"What's the matter, Donatello? Can't get up because you're too weak? Phfffft! Figures."

Ignoring the belittling voice as best he could, the wounded genius struggled to his feet and darted his eyes across his surroundings. Much to his relief, he was all alone on the rooftop. Not so much to his relief, he couldn't see any kind of object that he could potentially use as a crutch, which meant he was going to have to continue putting weight on his wounded leg. It was already in agony as it was. He wasn't sure just how much longer he would be able to withstand the pain.

"Look at you. You're nothing but a disgrace."

In an effort to focus on something other than his growing misery and the abusive voice echoing inside his brain, Donatello stared off into the distance, trying to figure out where he was. When nothing looked familiar, he shifted his gaze up to the night sky, hoping to use the stars as his guide. But, as turtle luck would have it, there wasn't a single star in sight due to the heavy cloud cover. The rain may have let up several hours ago, but the dark, rolling clouds hovering overhead still refused to go their separate ways.

Okay. So, what now, genius?

There was no way he would be able to leap from building to building in the current condition he was in. Not unless the buildings were conveniently standing about a foot apart, which they weren't. Thanks to his injuries, jumping across was most definitely out of the realm of possibilities, as was swinging across. Even if he still had his grappling hook on him, he wasn't physically capable of pulling off any high-flying aerial stunts at this point. In other words, climbing up to the top of the building had been one big, monumental waste of time.

Somebody up there must really, really hate me...

What Donnie didn't realize was that somebody was actually up there on the rooftops with him.

But it didn't take the genius turtle long to figure it out.

As he stood there, trying to figure out what to do next, his entire body suddenly began to tremble out of control. Almost as though his own brain was trying to warn him of something. Terror seizing hold, Donatello spun around to see that there was someone approaching, fast and swift.

With his tongue temporarily twisted into knots, Donnie watched on in silence as the lone figure easily hurdled over to the same rooftop the wounded turtle was on and stalked towards him.

Several prolonged moments of wordless shock passed before the intellectual turtle finally found his voice again. The volume he projected took him somewhat by surprise, but he tried his darnedest not to let it show.

"STAY AWAY FROM ME!"

The figure drew nearer, clearly not intimidated by the boisterous command, but there was a gentle expression on his face that seemed completely out of character.

"Donnie?"

"I told you to leave me alone! Haven't you already done enough?"

Holding his hands out in front of his chest to defend himself, Donnie took a couple clumsy steps backwards, which made the turtle coming towards him stop in his tracks.

It was then that Donatello noticed the tears pooling in the other turtle's fierce, green eyes. This confused the genius more than anything.

"R – Raph?"

"It's okay, Donnie. Just take it easy. I'm not gonna hurt ya."

For a moment, the wounded turtle appeared to let his guard down, but the second 'Raphael' started to approach him again, Donnie's defenses went right back up.

"No! You're just up here... to tell me how useless I am, again! I – I don't want to hear it! Just get lost!"

"I'm not goin' anywhere, little brother."

Now, it was Raph's turn to hold his hands out in front of him. Only instead of doing it to protect himself, like Donnie had, the hotheaded turtle was doing it to show submission. Donatello looked as though he was terrified of him and Raphael was merely trying to calm his younger sibling down.

Much to Raphael's dismay, another step forward managed to get Donnie even more riled up.

"Back! OFF!"

"All right." Not wanting to agitate his brother any further, Raphael took a few steps backwards, but his eyes never left Donnie. What the turtle in red saw made him want to eviscerate Slash in the most painful way possible. And it wasn't just the metal collar locked tightly around Donnie's neck that had the temperamental turtle teetering on the edge of his sanity. That collar was just the tip of the iceberg.

It looked as though there wasn't an inch of Donatello's body that hadn't been beaten, severely. Blood and bruises of seemingly every color and size stained the surface of his once-healthy skin. His face was swollen and blackened in numerous places. One hand was swathed in a blood-soaked towel, while one leg was messily wrapped with dirty bandages. His left arm was being held as though it was in an imaginary sling.

It was taking every ounce of Raphael's willpower not to start yelling out obscenities. He instead had to settle on releasing his frustrations in the form of a growl, which he tried to keep low enough that it wouldn't frighten Donnie. The wounded turtle was already frightened enough as it was.

"Please... just leave me alone."

The words were verging on desperate, sorrowful and broken. All anger shed away, exposing the hurt underneath. Donatello swayed on his feet, barely able to keep upright. Eyes narrowed and unfocused, he stared at Raph like he didn't even recognize him. All the while, he continued to slowly inch away from his 'brother.'

"It's me, Donnie. Raph. I'm right here."

"No! You're – You're not real! You're NOT!"

There was this impulsive side of Raph that wanted to grab hold of Donnie and shake some sense into him, but there was also this nagging voice inside his head reminding him just how destructive his impulsive side could be...

"All you ever do is put everyone in danger, Donnie! You're supposed to be the smart one, but you ruin everything you touch! You're the reason Spike's gone! I lost my best friend because of you! It was all your fault! If you weren't such a walking disaster, he'd still be here!"

That side of him always seemed to hurt people. Even the people he cared the most about.

"I swear to you I'm real, Donnie. You're safe now. I won't let him hurt you again."

For every step that Raph took forward, Donatello took another step back, but he was running out of roof. A startling fact that he wasn't even aware of yet.

"Yeah, right! You s – said that before and you – y – you let him hurt me! You never came for me, Raph! You! Never! Came!"

Somehow, pointing out that the whole family had been looking for Donnie every night since the day he had been taken seemed rather hollow given what had happened.

The fact of the matter remained: they had failed him.

Where were they when he had needed them the most?

Posture sagging with the heaviest of remorse, Raphael's chin trembled as he whispered out his anguished response. "I know. And I'm sorry. But I'm here now."

Donatello gazed at Raphael through quivering pools of tears, wanting nothing more than to believe that his brother was actually standing there. Wanting so much to believe that that brother actually cared, but the hateful words wouldn't let him...

"You're always sorry! I've had it up to here with your excuses, Donnie! What? It wasn't enough that you almost killed Spike? Now, you almost killed all of us with another one of your crazy experiments!"

"Raph... I – I didn't mean to – "

"I don't want to hear it anymore! You're always screwing everything up, Donnie! How many times have you nearly killed us now? How many times, huh?"

"Raph, please... "

"You're not worth saving."

You're.

Not.

Worth.

Saving.

"No. No! You aren't m – my brother! I know you're n – not, because m – my brother... My brother doesn't – he doesn't care about me!"

"Donnie... that isn't true."

Donatello shook his head in denial, but all it did was make him even dizzier than he already was. Splotches started to swim in his vision while Slash's voice crept back into his brain...

"How's it feel to know your family thinks so little of you, they've left you for dead?"

Slash was right!

He had been all along!

The realization made Donatello's eyes practically triple in size and he glared at his 'brother' like he had betrayed him in the worst possible way.

"Y – You – you left m – me for dead!"

Now, it was Raph who was shaking his head in denial. He couldn't blame Donatello for thinking along that line, but it hurt to hear, nonetheless.

"No, Donnie. I know it might seem like that, but we never stopped looking. We just – We didn't know where or how to find you."

A squeak of agony could be heard as Donnie listened to the awful sound of Slash's voice continuing to mock him...

"You think if I would've taken the almighty, fearless leader, your dear old rat dad wouldn't have found him by now? He would've combed every inch of this city to find his precious Leonardo, but not you, Donnie boy. No, not you. He doesn't care a thing about you. No one does. That's the real reason why your family hasn't found you yet."

"You – You all just left me!"

Horror washed over Donatello's face, and aside from the ugly bruises, all other color fled from his previously flushed cheeks. He took another giant step backwards, further distancing himself from the turtle still shaking his head.

"That's not true, Donnie. Listen to me. You're not thinking straight right now." Raph stared on in dread as Donnie edged even closer to the ledge of the rooftop. Too close for the hotheaded turtle's comfort. "Please, Donnie. You – You need to stay where you're at. Okay? Just stand still. I'm gonna come – "

The second Raph started to move towards him, Donatello panicked and instinctively backed away, but there wasn't any more rooftop behind him. Before he could even register what was happening, he was tumbling backwards over the side of the building, helplessly reaching up towards the sky above.

"DONNIE! NOOOO!"

Overwhelmed by a terrifying sense of déjà vu as he watched his little brother lose his balance, Raph launched himself towards the falling turtle as fast as he could, only to realize, yet again, he was moments too late.

His brother was already gone.

To be continued…

*More Author's Notes: That is one epic cliffhanger. Unfortunately, I'm about to make it even more dramatic…

I'm not quite sure when I will be posting the next chapter. Maybe not for a while. I need to take a little extra time off. I'm sorry.

As always, please take a few moments to favorite, follow, like, reblog, review, and/or comment on 'Slash's Revenge' to let me know if you're enjoying the story or even just to say you're still with me or send a hug. It means the world to me to receive your feedback.

Thank you all very, very much for your ceaseless kindness and support. They are truly appreciated.

Take care.

CJ