EDIT: I have gone through and revamped the story from its original version. This one is more graphic and hopefully doesn't seem so rushed.

A/N: I do not own TMNT, Mirage studios does, but the idea for this story is mine. Unless of course this shows up in later episodes, then it's just coincidence. I hope that is not the case, however, as it does involve turtle torture. runs away from crazed fangirls Please read and review at your leisure.

There I was, minding my own business leaping from rooftop to rooftop when I suddenly found myself surrounded by Foot ninjas. I immediately reached for my weapon only to find some strange rope bound to my wrists. Four of the ninjas had pulled out a taser of some sort, releasing the cords which were now around my ankles as well. I fought them with every fiber of my being, determined to get free. That was until they simultaneously pressed a small button on the gun. Despite myself, I screamed long and loud as electricity coursed down the ropes and through my body. If I had hair I'm sure it would be smoking by now. I was barely aware when the voltage ceased, too preoccupied with remaining conscious. I lost that battle quickly and everything was consumed by darkness.

The next thing I knew I was waking up on my back, staring up into a very bright light. I blinked hard and turned my head away. When I tried to lift one of my hands a fierce shock pulsed into my body. Again, I screamed. Someone began talking, but I couldn't find them amidst the shadows the table. I growled that they show themselves and sure enough, they did. To my surprise and dismay a rather familiar figured approached me: Baxter Stockman. He laughed at my death glare and didn't seem bothered in the least, coming to stand by my side. He advised against me trying to escape as he tapped on the shackles around my wrists. To my alarm, another shock the same magnitude as the last shot up my arm. This time I fought against the urge to cry out and ground my teeth together until the pain stopped. His pleased laughter rang in my ears as I tried to catch my breath.

Like all evil scientists, he began to explain in great detail what he had in store for me. I'm not sure why he felt the need to inform me about the experiments about to be performed on me. Maybe he hoped it would instill fear into me or something. Well, it's working. I'm scared out of my shell! I seriously doubt my brothers have any idea where I am, unless they have supersonic hearing and heard my girlish scream a few minutes ago. I'm alone, weaponless and strapped to a table by electric shackles. Just my luck. I knew better than to struggle too much, common sense told me that. The shocks would eventually take their toll on me and I would be too exhausted to resist Stockman's probes.

As I lay there under the blinding light I couldn't help but get depressed. So this is how it ends? Cut up bit by bit to satisfy some crazed scientist's curiosity about our origin. I could simply tell him my life story up until now but I'm sure that wouldn't do much good. Stockman isn't one to settle for anything less than cold, hard, physical proof. I tried not to cry out as a scalpel was lowered between my plastron halves, slicing it clean down the middle. Luckily it didn't go all the way down, but stopped where my belt should have been. I happened to notice at this point that my belt and pads had been removed, and probably my mask as well. I felt strangely naked without my usual accessories, but this was hardly the time to be worrying about such things. There more important matters that needed to dealt with, like how on earth I was going to get of this mess.

The wound drew blood and I feared just how deep the laceration went. I voiced my concern over not being administered any anesthetics and Stockman merely snorted, stating he wouldn't waste such precious measures on a lowly terrapin such as myself. The probe advanced again, carving deeper into the first incision. This time I can't help but yelp as the knife sliced further into my plastron. The tool didn't advance a third time, much to my relief, but that was short lived as Stockman himself approached instead. He held what appeared to be a pair of scissors in one of his gloved hands and a pair of hemostats in the other. My heart slammed against my ribs as he loomed over me, that sinister grin plastered across his face. He proceeded to sever the connective tissue between my plastron and my inner layers of skin, causing pain I didn't think was possible. I forgot for a moment about my electrical restraints and fought against him. This strategy proved to only drain more of what energy I had left, leaving me panting and sore.

For what seemed like excruciatingly long hours, the mad doctor sliced away at my chest, slowly peeling back my plastron until it swung up like a door to my innards. I screamed with every fiber of my being as I felt every little thing he did. Every poke he made with his utensils, every prod he made with his finger and every tremor of his excitement as he examined me. Something warm slithered down my side and pooled around my shell. The puddle grew large enough to begin dripping to the sterile floor below, making audible 'drip drip' sounds as it hit. I don't even remember when I finally stopped screaming.

What shocked me was that I had yet to go unconscious; but I fear that would only worsen my current state. I knew I was going into shock, there was no doubt about that, but I'm sure Stockman couldn't have cared less. One thought kept running through my head as he began securing my plastron halves open: I hoped my brothers are all okay. Having been out on patrol with them I could only pray they were not captured as well and awaiting the same fate.

The door to the surgery room, or wherever it was that I was being butchered, suddenly flew open. I didn't have the energy to blink, much less lift my head, so I merely lay there, completely drained and descending deeper into shock. The sounds around me were muffled beyond recognition and my vision began to tunnel. The only thing distinguishable was Stockman's face, his expression one of surprise. He mouthed something and placed a scalpel to my throat, his eyes confident and cocky. The doctor withdrew his hand when something impaled it; that something was relatively big and very sharp. He threw the offending object to the ground and ran off like the coward he is. The clanging of metal ringing in my ears as his footsteps quieted.

I didn't bother to try and look around, even though I desperately wanted to. My head felt like a rock concert was jamming away in my skull and my body felt numb and heavy. I stared up at the blinding lights as my vision slowly became encompassed by a dark tunnel. Had my throat not felt so dry and constricted I would have said something. I was so exhausted I could barely blink. Three faces appeared above me, their expressions worried and scared.

"Donnie?" one of them asked. When I didn't answer he looked to the other two for support. "Is he going to be okay?"

I watched numbly as they undid the clasps supporting the halves of my chest. A small whimper escaped my lips when the pieces were laid in their proper position, the stinging sensation pulsing through my front.

One of them muttered an apology and turned his attention to the restraints on my wrists. I turned my head slightly when he retrieved the item that had impaled Stockman's hand and noticed it was a sai. My mouth opened but I couldn't get any words past my dry throat to warn them of the shackles, but I was too late. My brother dug his weapon into the side of the cuff in an attempt to pry the thing loose. This produced a hefty shock to which I was the sole recipient. My jaw clenched so tightly I thought my teeth would shatter as I tried to fight the pain. I lost that battle quickly enough, somehow found the strength to scream. I noticed frightfully it wasn't letting up like it had the many times before.

"Donnie!" they all shouted.

"Turn it off!" I cried hoarsely. I didn't know how to turn it off but it was the only thing I could think of in my present condition. My body convulsed from the electricity and wrenched against the restraints, only succeeding in rubbing the skin on my wrists and ankles raw. My vocal cords ached from my continued yells but it hurt too much not to vocalize it somehow. The sound of someone beating up something to my left was the only consolation I had; I knew my brothers would bring an end to this soon. Suddenly, the electricity stopped and every muscle in my body instantly relaxed. I could smell burning flesh from the shackles had been on me. I swear I saw smoke rising from me as well before I fell into the abyss of unconsciousness.

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I heard a voice faintly in the distance calling to me, but I ignored it. I was so tired; all I wanted to do was sleep; whoever it was can wait a while until I wake up. Something cool and wet was placed on my forehead. I groaned slightly and leaned into the pressure; it felt so good! The voice was renewed, this time louder and more soothing. It took my eyelids a few tries before they managed to open a crack.

"Welcome back, my son," my sensei said softly. "We were afraid we had lost you for a while."

"Master Splinter?" It took my foggy mind a moment to realize I was back at home and safe in my own bed. "What happened?"

He seemed to consider me for a bit before answering. "Do you not remember?"

I nodded then paused before shaking my head. "I…remember being captured…by Foot ninja and waking up in…Stockman's lab." I had to pause momentarily to swallow. My throat felt so dry! "He started to dissect me…but I don't remember…much after that." I tried to sit up and accept the offered glass of water but cried out when pain coursed up my front. As I placed a hand to my bandaged plastron I remembered it being nearly separated from me. The memory sent a chill to the depths of my shell. I leaned back down and greedily gulped down the water pressed to my lips.

"Your brothers are very worried about you. Do you feel you well enough to see them?"

When I nodded he cleared his throat loudly, eyeing the door. I grinned inwardly when my siblings entered the room, each donning a rather sheepish expression. They had been eavesdropping outside and it was just like our sensei to notice.

"How are you feeling?" Mikey asked almost hesitantly. He kneeled by my side and grasped my hand, giving it a squeeze.

I manage a weak smile. "I've been better," I reply honestly. "But I'll be all right."

As I look between my brothers I notice their tired expressions, the areas around their eyes darkened slightly. I couldn't help but frown.

"Is everything all right? You all look like someone just died." I hadn't meant to insinuate anything, but when they all stiffened I knew something was up. Sure I had just had a near run in with the grim reaper but I was alive…wasn't I?

"Don," Leo began. He paused and seemed to struggle to find the right words. "You…we almost lost you. You had gone into shock by the time we found you and we…you almost died."

I blinked for a moment, the weight of his words taking a moment to sink in. I knew that, didn't I? I knew the severity of the situation I had been in and was well aware I could have died there. So why did it shock me so much. I guess maybe because even though we all knew we could die at any time it never really hit home for any of us.

"I know." It was all I could think to say, all that would come to mind. Silence encompassed the room as I struggled to come to terms with the fact that I very well could have died on that table. A hand gripped my free fingers and squeezed. I looked into Leo's eyes and knew he wanted desperately to pull me into an embrace but didn't because of my chest wound. I smiled at him and squeezed both his and Mikey's hands, reassuring them that I was all right. Raph came up as well and gave my head a gentle noogie, a small grin across his lips.

"I'm amazed you guys were able to find me as quickly as you did. And which one of you stitched me up?" I asked tiredly, looking around at the smiling faces. "It feels almost as good as new." It was scary how fast their expressions turned on them, betraying some secret I knew immediately I was to be left out of. "What?"

Michelangelo looked away, fidgeting absentmindedly with my fingers. Raphael took the opportunity to offer me some more water, which I graciously accepted. Again, I gulped down the liquid and gave a relieved sigh when finished.

"Who sutured my plastron?" I asked again, this time a little more forceful. They weren't getting off the hook that easily. No one met my eyes, not even Master Splinter.

"Don't worry about it," Leo said, patting my shoulder. "What matters most is that you're safe now."

I frowned and I could tell by his expression he struggled internally with something, but what that something was I don't know. My eyelids began to droop and I stifled a yawn. They took that as a sign to leave and promised to be back in a bit to check up on me. As much as I wanted to press the matter further I didn't have the energy to do so. I thought I heard voices outside the door, which was nothing new, except one voice was unfamiliar to me. I gave sigh and nestled further into my bed, ignoring my overtired mind and slipped into a peaceful slumber.

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A/N: It's me again. The unfamiliar voice could be the TV or something like that; I also wanted to leave this open in case I felt the urge to write more. To all of you who made it this far thanks! But, here is a little warning. It goes something like this: constructive criticism is always welcomed, however, flames will be read, some considered, and most incinerated. Thank you, come again!