Chapter 37 - Free as a Burden

1.3K 70 179
                                    

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

*Author's Notes: Here's chapter 37 of 'Lost in the Fight' and this is a real 'angsty' one.

I know I say this all the time, but thank you all so much for reading, voting, and/or commenting on my stories. I truly do appreciate it. *virtual hugs*

Thanks for putting up with me . . . =} CJ

--------------------------

Chapter 37 - Free as a Burden

There were muffled words floating all around him, spoken in familiar tones, but in an unfamiliar dialect. It sounded as though his brothers had taken up another language - and quite fluently no less - but Donatello soon realized that his siblings were, in fact, speaking English. The reason the vocabulary had sounded so foreign to him was because his boggled brain was not able to translate the words yet, save for a few broken syllables.

". . . nie . . . "

". . . e's . . . ing . . . uh"

". . . Mi . . . geh . . . ph . . ."

". . . kay . . . o . . ."

As he attempted to pick apart the language, Donnie felt something gentle and soothing brush against his shoulder, but in an instant, it was gone. A hand, he guessed. It was too brief to know for certain. Curious to see who or what it had been, the wounded turtle forced his eyelids apart, only to discover that his eyes needed time to adjust, just like his brain. Everything was a complete blur, just like the last time he had passed out.

If getting injured and blacking out were a trend, Donnie was totally chic. Lately, he was to getting hurt and fading in and out of consciousness as Raph was to violent outbursts of anger and insulting -

Raph!

The mere thought of Raphael made Donnie push himself into a bolt upright position, but he immediately felt a pair of hands on his chest, pressing him back down onto the - Actually, he wasn't really sure what he was being pressed down onto, since he didn't have a clue where he was yet.

Noticing his vision was staging a slow comeback, Donnie glanced over his surroundings.

It was the lair. His laboratory to be more precise. He was laid out on the infirmary cot with a blanket draped over him. The hands pushing him down belonged to his oldest brother.

"Not so fast, Donnie. You need to take it easy." The tone of Leo's voice was unnervingly resolute and firm. He continued to press down on his younger brother's chest until he felt Donnie's muscles slacken underneath his grip.

Once Donatello had settled back down onto the cot, Leo sat beside him on the mattress. The turtle in blue leaned as close to his little brother as possible, just in case the injured turtle got any crazy notions of trying to get up again.

"Wh - What happened? Where are Raph and Mikey?" Now that Donnie was finally able to see straight, he realized that Leo was the only one in the room with him. The next thing the genius turtle noticed was that his throat was unbelievably dry and scratchy, like he had swallowed sandpaper. This was no doubt a result of heavy smoke inhalation. He was in dire need of a glass of water, but he didn't dare make such a request for fear of initiating a verbal lashing over what he had done to irritate his throat in the first place.

Hindsight probably should've told him that he was going to get his shell chewed out either way.

"Mikey went to go find Raph and bring him home. Raph . . . he, uh . . . he took off after we got you patched up." The words were cold and flat as Leo temporarily shifted his gaze towards Donnie's abdomen.

Lost in the FightWhere stories live. Discover now