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

*Author's Notes: I've finally returned with a new chapter of 'Slash's Revenge' and it's one of my very favorites.

Oodles and oodles of thanks to all of you for supporting me and reading my stories. I probably sound like a broken record, but I truly do appreciate you far more than words can ever say. You are all wonderful! Thank you, again and again and again…

I really hope you enjoy the chapter.

CJ

Chapter 29 – Pain

A chorus of "Senseis" rang out, accompanied by the sound of three sets of footsteps approaching the dormitory area at breakneck speed. Oftentimes the quickest of the brothers, Michelangelo was the first to come flying through the open doorway of Donatello's room, followed by Leonardo, and soon after, Raphael. A moment later, all three teens came to a screeching halt, so as to avoid running smack dab into April, who was standing there, holding open the door of the largest cabinet in the room.

The pretty redhead turned and glanced at the three brothers just long enough for them to see the pronounced frown on her face and the tears pooling in her eyes. Her troubled gaze then shifted back down to something inside the cabinet. Something she clearly didn't want to look away from for too long.

This made Leonardo's stomach do cartwheels and he quickly began scanning the room for Master Splinter. It didn't take long for the eldest turtle to spot his father. Even though Sensei was mostly hidden behind the open cabinet door, the end of his tail could easily be seen curled up on the floor at April's feet.

Sidestepping around April, Leo found himself standing over his father, who was kneeling in front of the cabinet. The grand master of Ninjutsu didn't turn to acknowledge his son's presence like April had just moments before. Splinter's dark eyes, instead, remained fixed straight ahead. He then leaned partway inside the cabinet, as if trying to shield something from view.

A loud gasp sounded out when Leonardo finally realized what that something was.

Or rather who that someone was.

The leader's shocked reaction set Raphael and Michelangelo back into motion and they were soon towering over Master Splinter alongside their eldest brother.

There, in the back of the large cabinet, was a trembling figure, desperately trying to hide behind his bruised and battered legs. Too afraid to move from the spot he was in. Face pressed into his bent knees, he pulled his arms tightly around himself, despite the tremendous pain it caused. It was nothing compared to the pain another beating would bring.

"Disobedience will be punished. A pet must be trained to do as they're told."

The memory made him whimper, revealing just how hoarse his voice was.

It was the most heartbreaking thing Leonardo had ever heard.

"D – Donnie?"

All Donatello did in response was tighten his grip around his legs, refusing to lift his head up. He would've retreated inside his shell, but he knew all too well what would happen if he did that again.

It had been made abundantly clear the second day of his captivity…

"You think your shell's gonna protect you from me, you pathetic little wimp? Show yourself! NOW!"

"P – Please! Not another b – beat down! I – I'm s – sorry! I won't do it again!"

"You got three seconds to come outta there before I crush your shell like a walnut!"

"Slash! Please!"

"Three."

"I'm sorry! I – I shouldn't have tried to fight back! Just… Just please let me go back inside my cage! I'll behave!"

"Two."

"Please. N – No more!"

"One."

"Okay! Okay!"

"There. That's a good boy."

"I'm sorry! I won't do it again. I s – swear."

"You're damn right you won't. Not after the punishment I'm about to give you."

"N – No! P – Please! I did what you asked!"

"You need to learn to listen to your new master. And no more hiding from me like a freakin' coward. You do that again and you won't have a shell left to hide in. You got that? Heh heh. This is gonna hurt you a helluva a lot more than it's gonna hurt me, Donnie boy. I can promise you that. I'm gonna make extra sure you never forget this lesson."

"No! Don't! I won't – AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The nauseating sound of his own screaming echoed inside his brain and he wanted nothing more than to cover his ear slits.

To drown it all out.

To make the torment go away.

But it never did…

It was always there…

He was always there…

"No." The word came out as a ragged breath, inaudible to anyone but Master Splinter. Leaning in closer, the concerned father attempted to console his visibly frightened son.

"Donatello, your brothers are here with us, as well as April. We are all here for you, my son. You are home now… with your family."

"No! J – Just hearing things! Not r – real!"

Using the heels of his feet, Donatello attempted to push himself further away from the familiar voice that continued to taunt him, but he had unknowingly cornered himself when he had crawled inside the cabinet to seek shelter. Every time his shell bumped against the back of the cabinet, he let out another whimper, each one more pitiful than the last.

"Donatello, I assure you we are very real. You are safe inside your room. He cannot hurt you here. Please, let me help you, my son." In hopes of comforting his second youngest child, Master Splinter reached out and gently rested a paw on Donatello's less injured arm. But as gentle as the touch had been, it was still enough to send the wounded turtle into a panic. His entire body began to rigorously shake and his breathing came out in frantic wheezes, like his airway was closing up on him. He cowered away from his father as though terrified of him, clearly awaiting an incoming blow that wasn't going to come.

In his overwrought mind, Donatello was back inside his cage.

Back with that monster…

"Time to get up, Donnie boy!"

"I… I can't. T – Too dizzy."

"Quit your damn whining, or I'll give you something to really cry about! Now, get up!"

"P – Please. Can't you s – see I'm sick? I just – I just wanna go home."

"I already told ya, this is your home now, whether you like it or not. Your family – they don't want you back. I can't blame 'em. You're pretty much useless."

"Yeah? Well, if I'm so useless, why k – keep me here? Why not just l – let me go?"

"You know why. You're the so-called genius, after all."

"To get b – back at Raph?"

"He deserves to suffer for what he's done."

"So, what good am I to you if Raph doesn't c – care about me, like you keep s – saying? If he hates me so much, why even bother k – keeping me alive?"

"Don't tempt me, Donatello. It would be so easy to just snap your neck and dump your corpse in the lair. Leave your cold, dead body right out in the open for your family to find. Bet they wouldn't even shed a tear. Probably just toss you down a sewage drain with the rest of the filth.

Hmmm… I'd actually be doing them a huge favor by putting you out of your misery. You and I both know they'd all be better off if you were dead. Save them a lot of trouble. They'd finally be rid of you. I'd finally be rid of you. It'd be a win-win."

"…"

"Oh! I'm sorry, Donnie boy. Did I hurt your feelings? Well, that's not the only thing I'm gonna hurt. Come outta there, you ugly little bastard."

Twisting his head from side to side, Donatello relinquished his grasp around his legs so he could hold his arms out in front of him in a vain effort to protect himself from those huge, calloused hands. As he continued to push himself against the back of the cabinet, he screwed his eyelids shut and quivered behind bruised limbs that could never shield him from the pain.

The unspeakable, endless pain…

"Looks like someone's ready for another beat down!"

"No! P – Please! Don't!"

"This is gonna hurt you a helluva a lot more than it's gonna hurt me, Donnie boy. I can promise you that. I'm gonna make extra sure you never forget this lesson."

"Don't t – touch me!"

Panting for air that would not come, Donatello's heart began to race about a million miles per minute.

Can't breathe!

Can't breathe!

Had the genius turtle been able to think straight, he would've recognized his symptoms for what they were: a classic panic attack. As it was, his inability to draw in a breath just freaked him out more and more. He was now shaking so violently, it almost looked as though he was convulsing.

Worried that his son was going to reaggravate his injuries, Master Splinter attempted to hold him still. An action that would no doubt further frighten poor Donatello, but Splinter could not just sit there and watch his intellectual child hurt himself.

"Donatello, listen to me! You must calm down! You are back at the lair. You are free from that awful place."

Thrashing about in his father's steadily tightening grip, Donnie gasped out in pain. What little voice he managed to produce was raspy and tragic. "N – No! It – It h – hurts! Please, s – stop! Please!"

"Donatello! You are suffering from the effects of a very high fever. Things are not what they seem. There is no one here who wants to hurt you."

An agonizing sob expelled from Donatello's compromised lungs as he frantically tried to free himself. All the while, his eyes remained sealed shut, as though he was too afraid to open them.

"If you don't stop your squirming, you're gonna lose a lot more than just a finger!"

Another sob sounded out, noticeably quieter than the last, and all of a sudden, Donatello's resistance was gone. Not for a lack of fear or even a lack of energy, but for a lack of muscular control. He had been too worked up to feel the pressure his father had applied to his bruised neck. Pressure that had rendered the wounded turtle unconscious in a matter of seconds.

Donatello's body slumped forward, right into his father's awaiting arms.

From behind him, Master Splinter heard his other boys' breathing grow heavier as they attempted to process what had just transpired. The whole time Splinter had been trying to get through to Donatello, the three healthy turtles had remained respectfully silent, but seeing their brother collapse against their father was just too much.

"Donnie!"

"Do not be alarmed, Michelangelo. Your brother is just resting."

"Y – You – You knocked him out?" A part of Mikey was appalled that his father had resorted to such drastic measures, while another part of him was grateful his brainy brother was finally able to find some much-needed peace.

"Yes, in a manner of speaking, but I only did so to temporarily ease his suffering. I feared that Donatello might hurt himself."

Saddened by his father's response, Mikey dipped his head down. In doing so, the youngest turtle saw several items strewn out on the floor next to the cabinet. Items he probably should've noticed before, but he had been so focused on his brother's empty bed, he had never thought anything about how messy the floor was.

It was now painfully clear that Donnie had pulled the items out of the cabinet in order to crawl inside.

The revelation that his missing brother had not, in fact, been missing at all left Mikey both relieved and confused at the same time. "Why would he hide from me?"

Scooping Donatello's limp form up into a bridal-style hold, Master Splinter somberly carried his tallest son back to his bed. The two oldest turtles were quick to help get their injured brother settled under the covers. Once Donatello looked to be resting comfortably, Master Splinter turned back towards his youngest child, who was still patiently waiting for an answer to his question. The smallest turtle's bottom lip pointed out into the slightest of pouts; a perfect picture of childlike innocence.

Master Splinter's weary expression softened into something much more affectionate. "He was not hiding from you, my son. I believe Donatello was trying to find something more familiar."

"But what's more familiar than his own bed?" Scratching the top of his bald head, Mikey puckered his face up to visibly demonstrate his confusion. For the life of him, he couldn't comprehend why Donnie would give up his nice, warm bed to curl up inside a cold, dark cabinet.

"Your brother has been through an extremely traumatic event, Michelangelo. There will be lasting effects, some of which may be difficult for us to understand, such as this incident.

"Perhaps the cage Donatello was kept in was the only place he felt safe during his ordeal. When he awoke, he attempted to find the closest thing to that cage that he could." Eyelids lowering to half-mast, Master Splinter cast his gaze down to the floor. The thought of his intellectual son retreating into something akin to that filthy cage made his flesh crawl. Splinter wondered just how much time his child had spent locked inside that metal prison cell. Based on the smell of things, the already angry father did not want to know the answer to his own question.

It would only infuriate him all the more.

Being confined to such unsanitary quarters was clearly not good for Donatello's physical health, but the emotional damage done was far, far worse. A gut-wrenching reality they had all just bore witness to…

"N – No! It – It h – hurts! Please, s – stop! Please!"

"So, what do we do now?" There was an air of innocence in Raphael's tone that Master Splinter had not heard from his temperamental son in ages. Hamato Raphael was anything but fragile, but his voice had sounded as delicate as thin glass. On his face, he wore an expression that betrayed just how broken he was inside.

"We wait." Master Splinter knew it wasn't the answer his sons were hoping for, but at the moment, it was the only one he had.

It came as no surprise that Leonardo was the first to react. He had always been one to pride himself on solutions. "That's it? We just sit here? For how long? And when he wakes up again, isn't he just going to do the same thing? I mean, you saw how terrified he was. He was scared of us."

Leonardo's bloodshot eyes fluctuated between anger and pain; the weight of the situation clearly taking a toll on him. His usual composure was hanging by a thread.

"Yes."

The vagueness of his father's answer only seemed to further frustrate the eldest turtle.

"'Yes' what, Sensei? Yes, we just sit here? Yes, he's going to do the same thing? Yes, you saw? Which one?"

With a slight shake of his head, Master Splinter patted a paw in the air in an effort to calm his oldest son down. Something he expected to have to do for his temperamental son, as well, but Raphael remained unusually quiet. Almost as though he was trying to make himself invisible.

A byproduct of the immense guilt no doubt…

"I am sorry, but I cannot give you what you seek, Leonardo. Your brother was brutally tortured for days. He sustained injuries we cannot even begin to understand at this point. Injuries not just to his body, but to his heart, soul, and mind. There are no clear-cut answers on how to fix this. Nor can I tell you how long this will take. For now, all we can do is wait."

"I know, Sensei, but I just… I just feel so helpless. Like I should be doing something more." Gazing down at Donatello's swollen and tear-stained face, Leonardo felt his heart begin to ache deep inside his chest, like someone was squeezing it too hard. He reached out and cupped a hand over the top of his wounded brother's head, softly petting the feverish skin beneath his fingertips.

Even in his unconscious state, Donnie flinched at the touch, making his oldest brother momentarily pull his hand away, but Leonardo was quick to resume the physical contact. Perhaps it was a bit selfish of him, but Leo just desperately wanted his brother to feel something gentle in light of all the savagery he had endured.

To know that someone was still capable of kindness…

"I've grown rather fond of kicking the shell out of your brother. He takes a beating so well. Hey! You wanna know what Donnie boy was doing when I left him? Lying on the floor, bleeding and crying like a baby. Bet the stupid, little wimp still is."

"I got him so trained now, he doesn't even bother to fight back. He just lays there while I beat him into the ground, over and over and over – "

To know that someone still cared…

"Ha! You've never given a damn about Donatello. All you care about is yourself! Speaking of not caring, I made sure to set old Donnie boy straight on how none of you cared enough about him to even bother looking for him. The devastated look on his face was priceless."

A voiceless growl rumbled in the back of Leonardo's throat, too low for anyone to hear. The thought of his introverted brother lying on the floor, bloodied and battered, was downright maddening, but the knowledge that Slash had verbally abused Donatello the entire time somehow made it so much worse…

"It's probably better if he dies. Even if you do manage to find him, he'll never trust any of you again!"

Of all the brothers, Donnie seemed the most susceptible to criticism.

Never as confident as the others…

Always second guessing himself…

Constantly taking things to heart…

How was he supposed to bounce back from something like this?

He had fled the lair because of the hurtful things Raphael had said…

"All you ever do is put everyone in danger, Donnie! You're supposed to be the smart one, but you ruin everything you touch!"

Only to be captured and tortured by a heartless monster who wanted nothing more than to make him feel worthless and disposable…

"I made sure to set old Donnie boy straight on how none of you cared enough about him to even bother looking for him."

Leonardo couldn't help but recall what his father had said back in Slash's apartment…

"We do not know what shape your brother is in, physically or mentally. If Slash has led him to believe that we do not care, Donatello may have no interest in returning home, my son."

What if Master Splinter was right?

What if Donatello had no interest in returning home?

What if when Donatello regained consciousness, he insisted on leaving?

Could they force him to stay?

Could they find a way regain his trust?

Would he ever forgive them?

Would he ever truly recover from this?

"Leonardo?"

The warm compassion drenching his father's tone made Leo wonder just how long he had been caught up in his thoughts. He peered up at Master Splinter; a silent apology etched across his face.

"We are all feeling the same sense of helplessness, my son." Master Splinter did not elaborate on the statement, confident Leonardo could see the others' pain for himself.

They all wanted so much to help Donatello, but they were all just as powerless to ease his suffering.

Mikey dipped his head down, once again, feeling partly responsible for the profound sadness that had befallen the room. True to his optimistic nature, he attempted to lighten the mood with a voice that carried far more cheer than what he actually felt inside.

"Well, at least I didn't lose him."

Though Master Splinter knew exactly what his youngest son had meant by these words, they still cut deeper than any knife ever could.

"Do not be so sure, my son."

Master Splinter couldn't stop himself from staring at his brilliant child's withered and beaten form. Unconsciousness did little to mask the wounded turtle's pain. The anguish in Donatello's expression was still unmistakable.

A sickening sense of despair filled Splinter's entire being.

They may have 'found' Donatello, but they had yet to rescue him from the torment that continued to plague him.

"Do not be so sure…"

To be continued…

*More Author's Notes: This chapter is so very heartbreaking. I just want to curl up in a ball and cry right now. Poor, poor Donnie.

As always, if you are enjoying this story, please take the time to favorite, follow, like, reblog, review and/or comment on it. It's always great hearing from everyone. I absolutely love the feedback.

I will continue to pray for you and your loved ones' health and safety. Take care, everyone.

Thank you very, very much for reading.

CJ