Hello all! so this fic is a side story in the Morning Star universe. But if you haven't read any of that series that's okay you can still enjoy this one. Or at least I hope you will;)
A/N: don't own anything but my OC's
Donatello was shaken awake by a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Donny, what are you doing in here?" Leonardo's concerned voice asked him. His brother's worried voice laced with a hint of irritation. Donatello peeled his cheek from his keyboard. He felt as if his mind was drifting in a gentle fog, and he couldn't seem to understand how he had gotten in front of his computer. "You should be resting." His brother insisted.
Donatello looked over his shoulder at his older brother and frowned in confusion at the sight of him. Leonardo couldn't be standing in front of him because his brother was...His mind struggled to finish the half formed thought as the events of the previous evening slowly came back to him.
They had been tracking a new shipment of weapons that the Purple Dragons had managed to 'acquire' from a top secret government facility. They had confronted the Dragons and had been overpowered by superior firepower and numbers. Leonardo had called a retreat, but not before a few of the gang members had managed to overpower Donatello. He had been beaten unconscious, but his brothers had managed to get to him before he had been gravely injured.
His brothers had dragged him bruised, bleeding and unconscious, back to the lair and tended his wounds the best they could. His injuries hadn't been life threatening, just deep bruising to his arms and legs, a few bruised ribs, a small bump on his head and a sore jaw.
He had awoken to a massive headache, but found that he had been unable to rest and so he had decided to try and find out who the weapons were going to be sold to. He had begun tracking suspicious monetary activity of some of the lead criminals around the city.
"I know I should be resting." He said to his brother. "But, I've managed to track a large amount of money that has been transferred several times to and from an offshore account. I was bounced around through various banks and through different servers before I finally managed to discover that the account the money is originating from belongs to someone here in New York. I don't have a name, but with the buyer being here, the Red Dragons will have an easy time unloading them."
His brother frowned at him. "Red Dragons? You mean Purple Dragons?" His brother said to him, his voice laced with concern. "You need to get some rest Donny." His brother said to him softly.
He nodded slowly, wondering why he had misspoke the name of one of their biggest enemies, seconded only by the Shredder. After all, he had spent 11 of his 26 years battling the Shredder and the Purple Dragons.
"Yeah, I think I am going to go lie down for a bit." He said as he stood and groaned, his body protesting the movement.
His brother grabbed him under his arms and around his carapace, holding up most of his weight. "Careful Donny." Leonardo said soothingly. "You took a pretty good beating last night."
It was then that he really felt the bandages and deep bruising that was beneath his clothing. I can't be this hurt. He thought to himself. He knew that his body would heal almost any and all wounds within moments. So why am I still injured? He wondered. He clutched at his head at the strange thoughts that had just invaded.
He gently pushed away from his brother. "I'll take it easy." He said as he slowly made his way to his room.
He walked through the kitchen where Michelangelo was pouring himself a bowl of cereal. Michelangelo paused and looked at him. "You okay Donny?" His brother asked him. "I thought you'd still be sleeping." His brother said to him.
"I'm heading to bed right now Mikey." He said as he turned to head to go to his room.
Master Splinter entered the kitchen.
Donatello stumbled back in horror at the sight of his father. He hit the ground hard jarring his injuries. He gasped in pain, but kept his shocked gaze locked onto his father's face. "It...you're..." He couldn't bring himself to say dead. His father had been dead for...His mind screeched to a halt at the thought. His father wasn't dead, he was alive and well. He clutched at his head as agonizing pain ripped and tore through his mind.
Michelangelo was talking softly to him and asking Master Splinter to help while he fetched Leonardo.
Donatello moved and winced in pain. "Be still my son." Master Splinter said comfortingly. "You were injured perhaps worse than we first thought." His father said as he crouched by his side and touching his forehead gently.
"I'm okay." He protested.
He felt two sets of arms lift him up. He closed his eyes for a moment as his world swam and became indistinct around the edges before snapping back into focus.
"What's goin' on in here?" Raphael asked as he grumpily walked into the kitchen. Raphael stopped when he saw that he was supported between Michelangelo and Leonardo. "Donny?" His brother asked as his eyes sought out Master Splinter.
"Donatello needs to rest." Master Splinter advised as Michelangelo and Leonardo helped him to his bedroom.
He groaned in pain as his brothers helped him to lie down. Leonardo crouched down and studied him. "Donny, can you remember if you were struck at any time in the head?" His brother asked seriously.
Donatello thought about last night and frowned. It was indistinct and fuzzy as if he couldn't quite remember what had happened, but he had more of an impression instead.
"My head feels fine Leo, just a little bump that's all." He told his worried brother. "But my jaw hurts more, so I must have taken a few shots to the face as well. I just need to sleep, Master Splinter startled me, that's all."
His brother frowned at him as if he didn't quite believe him, but was willing to let it go for now.
Donatello closed his eyes, shutting out his brother's worried face.
He fell into a deep dreamless sleep and was awoken by something heavy sitting on his chest. He opened his eyes and stared into dark green cat eyes. "Hello Klunk." He said to his brother's cat. "Why are you sleeping here, where's Mikey?"
The old orange cat just blinked at him and went back to sleep. Donatello pet the soft fur, causing the half asleep cat to begin to purr. Donatello gave a half smile of contentment and drifted back to sleep. The strange image of another set of cat ears, these ones white, floated through his sleepy mind.
Michelangelo watched Donatello's sleeping form from the doorway. Leonardo walked up beside him to stand just behind Michelangelo's shoulder. "He woke up for a bit, but he fell asleep again." He told his older brother softly.
Leonardo gave a curt nod, his face lined with worry. "I'm worried about him Mikey." Leonardo said softly.
Michelangelo frowned and nodded. "You should have seen his face Leo. He went white when he saw Master Splinter, like he was seeing a ghost."
"I know. He was acting strangely when he woke up as well. He acted as if he was surprised to see me. But I got the impression that it wasn't because I was in his lab, but it was as if...I don't know Mikey, like he hadn't seen me in a long time." Leonardo said with worry. "I don't even know if that makes any sense."
Michelangelo put a comforting hand on his big brother's shoulder.
Raphael came up behind them. "Donny'll be fine." He said. "He probably had his brains rattled around a little and when he wakes up, he'll be fine, so stop worryin' about him." Raphael said gruffly, a look of concern rippling over his features before being replaced by his easy, mocking smile.
Leonardo looked at Raphael and then nodded. Michelangelo turned his attention back to his sleeping brother and hoped that what Raphael had said was true.
Donatello hefted his bo and twirled it around. It had been two weeks since he had come back to the lair a beaten mess, but he was finally able to walk and move around without any pain, which meant that Master Splinter wanted him to continue his training now that his injuries had healed.
He began slowly moving through a series of katas. His muscles pulled and tightened but gave him no pain, which he was thankful for. His movements became quicker and surer as the familiar patterns flowed through his mind.
Master Splinter watched him with approval. "Raphael, take your place, Donatello you as well." His father ordered.
Donatello walked up to stand opposite Raphael. Raphael looked at Master Splinter. "You sure Master Splinter? Maybe Mikey should spar with Donny. He'd go easy on him." Raphael said with a taunting grin.
"Raphael." Master Splinter said in a severe tone.
Donatello bowed to his brother, a thread of annoyance spiking through him at his brother's taunt.
Raphael bowed in return, straightened and charged. Donatello brought his bo up to block his brother's sais. He fell back two steps as his brother pushed him. Donatello pushed his brother away and tried to kick him in the stomach, but his brother was faster. Raphael had dropped and swept his foot out catching him and tripping him. He fell to the ground, his carapace hitting the hard stone floor with a crack.
He felt his brother's sai against his throat as he acknowledged his brother's victory.
Raphael reached out and grabbed his hand, helping him up. "You okay Donny?" Raphael asked him as he got to his feet.
Donatello let out an irritated breath and nodded.
"Leonardo, Michelangelo." Master Splinter ordered motioning for his brothers to take up their places opposite each other.
Donatello sat down on a bench close to the wall as he watched his brother's spar.
Master Splinter came and sat down beside him. "I do not want you to push yourself Donatello. If your injuries still bother you..."
"They don't bother me Master Splinter." He said sullenly. "I'm just," He closed his eyes. "Weak." He said softly.
"You are many things Donatello, but weak is not one of them." His father said to him softly.
He stood up angrily. "I am weak Master Splinter. I am the weak one. I'm the one who always gets my ass handed to me when we fight. Even Mikey beats me, and he doesn't even try!' He said angrily. "And because I was so weak I couldn't protect..." His mind furiously grasped at the thought, but he couldn't complete the sentence, because he wasn't sure who it was he couldn't protect. He threw his bo down in angry frustration and strode from the room.
He walked through the lair and into his lab, closing and locking the door behind him. He walked over to his computer and threw himself into his chair. He stared at the black screen for a few minutes as indecision filled him. He finally powered up the monitor and tower and began searching the internet.
It was the first stray thought in the past two weeks that did not feel like his own. He had thought that the confusing thoughts had vanished, but it was obvious that they hadn't. The idea that there was something wrong with his mind had worried him immensely, but he had begun to relax, attributing the strange thoughts to the beating he had received.
He contemplated the random thought. Besides himself, there was no one that he hadn't been able to protect that he felt any particular guilt towards. His family had been attacked on numerous occasions by many different enemies, and at times they had not been able to get away unscathed. But the emotion that had accompanied the thought had been filled with so much regret and grief, that it had almost choked him.
He began diagnosing himself. He wasn't hearing voices, and he wasn't paranoid. The only problem was that it was as if he was remembering something. He would almost think they were someone else's memories, except the thoughts had centered on his family. He rubbed his face in frustration. The problem was that the memories were like a half remembered dream. It was right there in front of him, but he couldn't seem to grasp it.
He frowned in thought. Perhaps he was thinking about the thoughts wrong. It was possible that he had been struck in the head and somehow his conscious thoughts were mixing with his subconscious ones. He had enough nightmares and dreams for any number of the errant thoughts to have come from.
He felt his shoulders relax. As long as the thoughts did not get any worse he would be okay. And besides, he had gone two weeks without what he would term an 'episode', so whatever it was, may be triggered by high emotions, such as anger or stress.
The subconscious mind was a very complex state that psychologists and scientists still argued over. If this was all that was happening he knew that whatever the cause, it would probably disappear on its own, or he hoped it would.
He heard a gentle knock on his door. He looked at the clock and realized he had been sequestered in his lab for over 3 hours.
"Donny, Master Splinter wants to talk to you." Leonardo's muffled voice said through the door.
Donatello sighed and stood. If his brothers had wanted to talk he could handle that a little better than having to talk to his perceptive parent.
He opened the door and walked past Leonardo. He glanced at his brother's face which was full of worry. "I'm okay Leo." He said as he walked to his father's meditation room. He found his father sitting on the mat in the center of the small square room.
"Please sit my son, and tell me what bothers you." His father said to him gently.
Donatello sat on the mat and crossed his legs. "Nothing Master Splinter." He said as he stared at his hands, which were sitting in his lap. He did not want to try to explain to Master Splinter that pieces of his subconscious were drifting into his consciousness while he was awake. His father lifted a hairy eyebrow in question.
"You were injured Donatello, but losing to an enemy can harm one more than just physically. You need to heal mentally as well."
"I know Master Splinter." He agreed. And he did agree and he was determined to heal whatever was wrong with him.
"You and your brothers have been defeated before Donatello. You have been injured before, and you have never been upset that you had not fought better. Out of all of your brothers you are the one who hates violence the most. You are the one who will only use violence as a last resort. So what has so upset you? You said that you could not protect someone. Who was it that you could not protect?" His father asked him.
He had to stop himself from shrugging. "What if I was protecting an injured brother?" He asked. "I am the one who could be responsible for getting me and my brother killed." He said softly, not answering his father's question.
His father let it go and nodded. "You train just as hard as your brothers Donatello, but you know that violence is not always the answer. You have been responsible for saving your brothers lives many times, not through your ability to fight, but through your ability to use your mind."
"Thank you, Master Splinter." He said as he stood.
"Dinner should almost be ready Donatello." His father said to him.
"I'm not very hungry. I think I am going to go to bed early." He said as he left his father's meditation room and slowly made his way back to his room.
Leonardo stopped him on the way. "Donny, you know that you are a valuable member of this team and this family, right?"
He looked at his older brother. "I know Leo." He said as he gave his brother's shoulder a squeeze. "I know." He said as he walked to his room and closed the door gently behind him. He flopped down on his bed, rolled onto his side, and went to sleep.
He dreamt of a woman with glorious russet, golden, and copper curls, who looked at him with beautiful moss green eyes. "Who are you?" He asked her. She looked at him over her shoulder, her face half hidden in shadow as she was swallowed up by the darkness that surrounded her.
Donatello woke up to his stomach growling. He slid from his bed, still half asleep. He swore he could almost feel his teeth tingling he was so hungry. He made his way to the kitchen, stumbling slightly as he tripped over something, banging his shin. He withheld a curse and managed to make it to the fridge, opening the door so that the light illuminated the kitchen.
He searched the fridge for leftovers and spotted a package of raw hamburger sitting on a plate thawing. Michelangelo must be making spaghetti tomorrow. Donatello thought to himself as he looked at the bloody bag the hamburger was sitting in. A strong image flashed through his mind of him biting into a pale neck, his teeth sinking into her flesh, as warm, coppery, blood filled his mouth.
Donatello looked in horror at the plate of raw hamburger that was now in his hands.
"Don't drop that Donny, that's tomorrow's dinner." Michelangelo said as he quickly snatched the plate from his grasp.
Donatello jumped in surprise. "What are you doing up Mikey?" He asked his brother as Michelangelo put the package of hamburger back in the fridge and pulled out a plate of leftover pizza.
"I was watching Wolfman vs. Dracula on TV." He said with a shrug. "Hungry Donny?"
Donatello's stomach growled in protest. "Yeah." He answered as he tried to get the image of blood out of his head. What is wrong with me? He asked himself. It was the first time an image had invaded his mind as opposed just random thoughts. This bothered him on a whole new image had been so clear, the sensation so real, so visceral that it felt as if it had been more reality than dream.
He took the plate of pizza to the table and settled himself into his seat. Michelangelo frowned at him. "Why are you sittin' in Raph's spot?" He asked him.
He looked at where he was sitting and frowned, then shrugged. "Raph isn't using it." He replied as the image of Raphael trapped within the confines of a large crystal flashed painfully through his mind.
Donatello closed his eyes and took a deep breath. That was two separate images within mere moments. He swallowed down his fear. What he was seeing was not real, none of it was. Donatello frowned as he stood, an idea suddenly coming to him.
"You okay Donny?" Michelangelo asked him with concern.
"Yeah Mikey, just thinking." He said as he walked away from the table.
"I thought you were hungry?" Michelangelo said to his retreating back, food being the last thing on his mind at the moment.
Donatello walked into his lab and closed the door. He sat in front of his computer for a moment as his mind spun with the possibility that he was not seeing dreams, though it was possible some of the more unexplainable ones were dream fragments, but that what he was seeing were glimpses of the future. He was more willing to believe this theory than to believe that he was going insane.
He knew time travel was possible and he knew that his father was very intuitive. Master Splinter at times had premonitions and dreams that warned of imminent and future dangers that would harm their family. Donatello himself had never seemed to be able to tap into this particular phenomenon, but knew it to be real.
The reason he had this sudden revelation stemmed from the last flash of 'dream' where Raphael was trapped within the crystal. Raphael was older than he was right now and bore heavy scars across his face; scars that his brother did not have.
He began to recall every remembrance and every flash of image that had inexplicably rolled through his mind and categorized them by sense, sensation, probability and clarity.
It was several hours later before he had categorized his thoughts and visions and when he had completed his task sought out his father who he found in his meditation room.
He slowly opened the door and stood there until his father asked him to enter.
"What troubles you my son?" His father asked in his calm, even, calm as Donatello settled himself on the mat across from his father.
Donatello contemplated for a moment where to begin and decided to start at the beginning. "Ever since the night of our confrontation with the Purple Dragons, I have been having...I suppose strange thoughts and now visions." His father's furry eyebrows rose but remained silent as Donatello continued. "I had thought at first that somehow my subconscious thoughts were somehow drifting through into my consciousness, like remembering something but being unsure if you had just dreamt it or not, because these strange thoughts were just that, thoughts."
"Like your surprise at seeing me?" His father asked him gently.
Donatello nodded. "I thought...for just a moment..." Donatello found that he could not continue with his thought.
"That I had passed?" Master Splinter asked softly.
Donatello nodded. "But that was the strange thing Master Splinter, I did not think that you were dead, but when I saw you, that is when the thought jumped into my head. I truthfully didn't know what to think, because I have had other thoughts that did not make any sense. But last night I had two visions, one almost right after the other and because of these visions I began to make sense of what I was seeing and thinking."
"And what was contained in these visions my son?" Master Splinter asked him curiously.
"Vision might not be quite the right word." He began, "It was more like a memory. But it wasn't a memory I have experienced. But it was everything, sight, sound, smell, feelings, everything."
He father looked at him with concern. "Tell me more of these 'memories'." His father prompted.
Donatello tried to forget the one where he had plunged his tingling teeth into the alabaster neck of an unknown woman and instead focused on the last 'memory' he had experienced.
"I saw Raph, encased within a giant crystal. I don't...I don't know if he was still alive or..." Donatello swallowed and continued. "But I felt...worry and sadness and I felt as if I had not talked to Raphael in what felt like an eternity."
"So what is it you believe these...visions to be?" His father enquired.
"In that vision, memory, whatever you want to call it, Raph was older, over thirty, and scarred pretty badly across his face." Master Splinter remained silent as Donatello continued. "When I noticed this I had a thought that perhaps what I am seeing is flashes of the future; our future. Perhaps someone is trying to warn us that something bad is going to happen, and that we have to stop it." Donatello said emphatically.
Master Splinter nodded his head thoughtfully. "And so who is sending these thoughts and images?"
"Probably me, somehow. Perhaps I found a way to communicate with my younger self...uh me, right now." Donatello said as he shifted slightly. "So I was thinking that if I was able to go into a deep trance, that I may be able to have a clearer image of these thoughts and perhaps I could even communicate with my older self to find out what I have to do."
"Have you told your fears to any of your brothers?" Hs father asked him.
Donatello shook his head. "At first I didn't know what was going on, I was scared that...I don't know, that the bump to my head might have caused some permanent damage of some sort." Donatello swallowed down his fear that he was grasping at straws and that he really was going insane. He roughly pushed this thought aside as watched as his father studied him before nodding.
"Be careful my son. Sometimes the answers you seek are not the ones to the questions you have asked." His father said warningly.
Donatello paused but nodded his head. He knew his father would be slightly hesitant regarding his explanation of his strange behaviours, but he did not blame his father. After all, his theory did not encompass all of his strange thoughts and visions, but they accounted for almost all and so he was going to go with this theory.
Donatello crossed his legs and closed his eyes, clearing his mind and breathing slowly and deeply, putting himself into a dream-like meditative trance.
He opened his eyes and looked around him. A beautiful grass filled glade stretched out before him, while purple clouded mountain peaks surrounded him. A woman sat overlooking a cliff, sketching silently as she took in the beauty of the vista before her.
Purple, black, white and gold butterflies playfully danced around her, landing on her shoulders and getting caught in her golden, russet and ginger locks.
Donatello recognized her from the dream he had last night. He had asked her name, but she had only vanished into inky shadows.
Donatello approached her slowly. She didn't acknowledge his presence as he stood beside her. "Who are you?" He asked as the woman continued to draw.
She remained silent. He knelt down and gently touched her shoulder, his eye catching the black butterfly she had drawn on her sketchpad.
She looked over at him, her green eyes sparkling, a smile on her beautiful face. Donatello felt his breath catch and his world tilt. He felt as if he had searched his entire life to find her, and he had finally found her.
"I am your soul mate Donatello, never forget that." She said softly as she stood showing him the sketch that she had done.
He stared at her unable to speak, unable to form a coherent thought as the butterfly peeled itself from the white page.
The sketchbook fell from her fingers, her face going pale as she closed her eyes and fell. Liquid darkness swift and merciless consumed her where she stood.
"No!" He shouted in horror as the world darkened around him. He looked around frantically at the cavern that surrounded him. He could hear screams of agony drifting in on the parched, heat filled breeze. A figure peeled itself from the surrounding shadow, her steps even and sure. He could not make out her features, draped as she was in shadow, but her voice was low, husky and rolled along his skin like a sinful invitation.
"You are mine Donatello, for now and forever, until the end of time." She said as she lifted a pale arm. The black butterfly that had peeled itself from the book fluttered near his right shoulder landing on his bare skin. Searing pain blazed through his shoulder as he looked down at the butterfly as it buried itself beneath his skin. He screamed in pain, clutching at his burning shoulder as chains shot out from the darkness, binding and wrapping him, tightly. He tried to struggle, to take a breath to scream, but was unable to. The chains that bound him were suffocating him.
The darkened figure of the woman stepped more into the orange tinged light, her face still deep within shadow. Orange light caressed a blackened feathered wing and glinted off of a curved ram horn. Donatello swallowed down his terror as eyes containing the red fires of Hell stared back at him.
Thoughts and opinions are always welcome!