*Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.
*Author's Notes: Chapter 28 of 'Lost in the Fight' is here and it's a bit shorter than the previous chapter, but this one is guaranteed to make you smile. Especially if you're a B Team fan. C=
As always, I want to thank all of you for reading, voting on, and/or commenting on my stories. I am so grateful to all of you for the support you have given me. Please continue to let me know if you're enjoying 'Lost in the Fight' or any of my other stories.
I really hope you like the chapter! ;) CJ
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Chapter 28 - Stubborn as Shell
Though not normally gullible by nature, there was this naïve side of Raphael that had been suckered into believing that once his brainiac brother woke up, their lives would go back to normal, but that had been just wishful thinking on the hothead's part.
A harsh dose of reality was always there to knock him flat on his shell.
Things were most definitely not going back to normal.
Not now . . .
Maybe not ever . . .
Yes, there were undeniable blessings to be counted. First and foremost, Donatello had survived against seemingly impossible odds. Granted, his condition was still not ideal by any means, but it had stabilized enough that he appeared to be out of any immediate life-threatening danger.
Little by little, Donatello was getting better, but it was obvious that his recovery was going to be painfully slow. Much slower than they had all hoped for. Donatello's illness and grave injuries had left him in such a weakened state, he could only manage to stay awake for short increments at a time before tiring and conking out for hours. The more he slept, the more difficult it was to build up his strength. And without his strength, his immune system was struggling to battle off the pneumonia that continued to plague his lungs.
The whole situation was a bit of a catch-twenty-two.
Still, Donatello was making modest progress, even if it wasn't as rapid as the family would have liked. This was something they all needed to be grateful for.
As the days crawled by, the genius turtle's wounds were visibly healing and his periods of consciousness were gradually growing into longer stretches. When he would wake, his family tried to keep him in a sitting position for as long as his debilitated body would allow. They were keeping their fingers crossed that this would help to clear out Donatello's clogged up chest, as well as prevent other health risks that the internet had informed them were common with bedridden patients, such as blood clots and pressure ulcers.
Raph was really starting to hate surfing. The web that is . . .
Their lack of medical knowledge had forced them to rely heavily on internet research. While the internet had proved to be an extraordinarily valuable resource in helping them treat Donatello, it had also done a fine job of scaring the heck out of them, providing them with way more information than they cared to know. The horrifying worst case scenarios they had come across had made Mikey break down crying multiple times. It was no wonder Donnie could be so overly paranoid at times, knowing all that he did.
After spending so much time reading up on how-tos and potential complications of everything from stab wounds to bedsores, Raphael now looked at his brainiac little brother with brand-new appreciation. Up until Donatello had gotten critically injured, the temperamental turtle had never realized what a tremendous burden came with the price of knowledge. Some of that stuff they had read about was downright terrifying, not to mention gross.
Sometimes, ignorance truly was bliss.
I guess that explains why Mikey's so stinkin' happy all the time.
Raph shook his head from side to side, not exactly sure why. It just seemed like the thing to do at the time.
It was currently three hours into the red-masked turtle's afternoon shift and his second youngest brother been awake for about twenty minutes now, which was already five minutes longer than any stint that Donnie had stayed conscious for during Raph's last shift.
As soon as Donatello had opened his eyes, Raphael had helped his little brother into a comfortable sitting position in the center of his cot. The hotheaded turtle was presently sitting about an inch away from his injured brother with an arm protectively wrapped around Donnie's carapace. Raph didn't trust that his brother was strong enough to sit up on his own, so he was keeping a good hold on him, just to be safe.
Ever since they had nearly lost Donnie, Raph felt this burning need to keep his little brother safe at all times . . .
The most volatile turtle had never been so worried about anyone or anything ever before. Not to this extreme. Even though Donnie seemed to be getting better, anxiety was still constantly needling away at Raph's gut, almost to the point that he feel like hurling half the time.
Maybe that's why the comical scene currently playing out before Raphael was making it impossible for him not to smile from ear slit to ear slit. It was a welcome break from the endless stress.
Raph watched the antics of his two younger brothers with obvious amusement. It looked as if the act had come straight out of some slapstick comedy routine. One little brother was stubbornly trying to feed the other little brother who was stubbornly refusing to be fed.
"Donnie, you've gotta eat something. Besides, it's my homemade soup, so you know it's mmm, mmm, mmm, deeeee-licious!"
In a gesture suitable for a stage performer, Mikey dramatically circled the large bowl of soup that he was holding underneath Donnie's nose so that his ailing brother could get a good whiff of the dish's contents. The youngest turtle then lowered the bowl and filled a spoon up to the brim with his self-proclaimed 'world famous pizza noodle soup.'
"Now, open up and say 'ahh yeah!'"
As if the situation wasn't already mortifying enough for the genius turtle, Mikey just had to go and make belittling airplane noises while he flew the spoon up to his older brother's mouth, adding further insult to Donatello's many injuries.
Fixing a glower on his younger brother, Donnie kept his lips pressed together in a tight frown, pigheadedly refusing to open his mouth. Not just because he really didn't feel up to eating anything, but also, because he didn't approve of being treated like an infant by his highly juvenile baby brother.
Never one to take a hint, be it subtle or plain as day, Mikey repeatedly bounced the spoon off his injured brother's taut lower lip, making ridiculous crashing sounds to accompany each collision with Donnie's still closed mouth. The turbulence from Mikey's insistent bumping caused some of the soup to spill over the sides of the spoon and splash down onto the blanket covering the brainiac turtle's legs.
Donnie continued to glare at Mikey, not about to open his mouth, even if he would have been out-and-out starving to death. The thought of being spoon-fed by his little brother was downright embarrassing. He was seriously considering telling Mikey where to stick that stupid spoon.
"Aw, come on, D! You're like skin and shell, dude! You gotta eat, bro! Work with me here." Mikey rammed the spoon into Donnie's bottom lip a few more times before finally retracting the utensil in defeat. The youngest turtle's own bottom lip then jutted out into the most pitiful of pouts.
"Mikey, do you really think that's such a good idea? It took him all of five minutes to puke up the plain broth we gave him the other day." There was a cynical smirk on Raph's face meant to mock his baby brother, but the expression curled into an uncharacteristically soft smile when the hotheaded turtle reached over and patted Donnie on the good leg.
Making sure not to part his lips, the genius turtle returned the smile, but the expression hadn't looked the least bit sincere. Luckily, neither of his brothers seemed to notice.
"But look at him, Raph! He's totally wasting away to nothing. Plus, Leo and Master Splinter said he can't leave the infirmary until he starts eating solid foods. So if we want him to hang out with us again, we need to get some food into him like pronto!"
Afraid that his baby brother would instantly try to shove a spoonful of soup into his mouth if he let out the exasperated sigh he so desperately wanted to, Donnie instead opted to roll his eyes to demonstrate his annoyance.
Having been confined to a cot twenty-four seven since coming out of his coma several days ago, Donnie had discovered that even the littlest of things began to grate on one's nerves. For instance, the fact that everyone was constantly talking about him in third person, as if he wasn't even there. Maybe this patronizing behavior had developed during his two week absence from consciousness, but he wasn't in a coma anymore. They didn't need to keep speaking about him like he was still in a catatonic state.
Then, there was the incessant patting of various body parts. His family kept treating him like he was a well-behaved dog. They were always patting him on the arm, patting him on the top of the head, patting him on his good leg or shoulder – Basically anywhere that wasn't badly injured was liable to be patted. His entire family was guilty of the awkward display of affection that was quickly becoming one of Donnie's biggest pet peeves. Even inexpressive Raph had made an irritating habit of it.
What Donatello's family didn't realize was that the gesture constantly reminded the genius turtle of when Tiger Claw had mockingly patted him on top of the head right after informing him that he would never see his family again. This was just one of many painful recollections that wouldn't go away. Donnie wished he could find some scientific means to wipe the memories from the cerebral cortex of his brain, because they were tearing him apart, piece by piece.
But that still wasn't the worst of it . . .
The thing that he hated even more than the third person pronoun usage and the ceaseless patting was being treated like a small child. Case in point, Mikey, with his pizza noodle soup and goofy plane noises.
"Open up, bro. Nom nom nom," Mikey persuaded, holding the spoon up to Donnie's bottom lip again.
Nom nom nom? Seriously? What? Does he think I'm Cookie Monster?
Donnie realized that his family wasn't aware that they were hurting him with their actions. They were just doing everything they could to try to make him feel better. That was why he was doing his best to act like nothing was bothering him. He didn't want to make his family feel uncomfortable around him because they were afraid of doing something that might upset him. And he definitely didn't want them to think that he was being ungrateful for their kindness.
Hence the reason Donnie hadn't snapped at his baby brother for pestering him. The brainy turtle realized that Mikey meant well, but that didn't make the situation any less humiliating. It was no wonder Raph couldn't wipe the huge smirk off his face . . .
Again, Donnie rolled his eyes upwards, and this time, he growled from behind his closed lips.
"But I made this soup just for you, Donnie! I slaved on it all morning! Can't you at least try it?"
Hearing the desperation in Mikey's plea, Donnie looked straight into his younger brother's bright blue eyes and saw the kindness and innocence that existed within them.
How could he say no to such a heartfelt request from his baby brother?
How could he say no to Mikey when all the little goofball ever wanted to do was make everyone happy?
Donnie let out an exasperated sigh, and then, he finally opened his mouth to indicate his consent.
Seeing his brainy brother's mouth drop open, Mikey grinned like a Cheshire cat, giddy over his victory. Sure, he wasn't exactly proud of having to resort to emotional blackmail to ultimately coerce Donnie into eating something, but hey, it had worked.
Awesome job, Mikey. You da man!
Incapable of hiding his excitement, the youngest turtle eagerly scooped up a fresh spoonful of the once hot soup. He was just about to start the spoon's ascension towards Donnie's beak when the genius turtle's expression suddenly turned stern.
"But no more sound effects." To further stress his point, Donnie clamped his mouth shut, again.
Mikey nodded vigorously in response, but Donatello could see that his baby brother was disappointed that his airplane impression had gone unappreciated.
Normally, Donnie hated doing anything that disappointed his younger brother, but this time, it wasn't weighing on his conscience one little bit. There was no way in shell he was going to willingly allow his baby brother to continue to demean him like that. He had to defend the sad remains of his dignity.
Holding his head up defiantly, Donnie stared at Mikey through narrowed eyes. Once he saw and heard the spoon approach without a sound, the genius turtle opened his mouth again.
"Attaboy," Mikey chirped, propelling the spoon into Donnie's ajar mouth before his older brother had a chance to change his mind.
"Down the hatch it goes! Yummy, yummy in your tummy!"
Oh yeah . . . That's so much less degrading than the airplane noises, Donnie thought sardonically.
Feigning gratitude, the wounded turtle gulped down the food he really had no craving for. His stomach was already churning in opposition and the soup hadn't even made its way down his esophagus yet.
This surely won't bode well . . .
Raph shook his head from side to side again, only this time, he knew exactly why he was doing it. Just like Donnie, the turtle in red was fairly confident Mikey's plan to 'fatten D up' was going to end in in disaster.
"I know it's my shift, but if he throws up, it's all on you, Mikey!" The sour look on Raph's face as he spoke informed Mikey that his grumpy big brother had meant every word of his threat.
"Uh, technically, if I throw up, it'll be all on me," Donnie corrected before his baby brother shoved the spoon into his mouth without warning.
Mikey let out a delighted little giggle, quite pleased with himself.
"That's a good boy, D."
Fighting off a scowl, the genius turtle swallowed his pride along with the soup.
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Donatello remembered that Michelangelo had once said, "Genius is eternal patience."
Obviously, that quote had not come from his brother, Michelangelo, but rather the famous Italian artist, Michelangelo. The one that the youngest turtle had, in fact, been named after.
Well, Donnie had always appreciated the quote up until now . . .
The 'genius' turtle's patience was definitely not eternal. It was long gone.
"So, am I cleared for takeoff yet?" Donnie asked in a voice laden with frustration, unable to hide his growing resentment of his current situation. He cranked his head to the side, attempting to check out the hole in his shoulder that his oldest brother had just unwrapped. It was difficult to get a good view of the wound due to the angle that Donnie was currently in and the fact that Leo's big, green hands were in the way.
The injured turtle watched on helplessly as his big brother silently conducted a thorough examination of his mutilated shoulder, assessing it for any signs of infection. Donnie knew the mind-numbing routine all too well. Once the wound passed Leonardo's inspection, the blue-clad leader would clean it as he saw fit and slather on an antibiotic. Then would come the application of what Donnie thought was an exorbitant amount of bandages. He didn't have the heart or the audacity to point out that his family was wasting an excessive quantity of perfectly good bandages. He had no desire to be accused of being a nag.
The corners of the brainiac turtle's mouth drooped down into a frown.
Outside of the infirmary, Donnie could hear Mikey causing a ruckus and making some kind of obnoxious whooping sounds. The merriment in the youngest turtle's voice was unmistakable. Hearing it ironically made Donnie's frown deepen.
For the first time in three weeks, Donatello's brothers were going out on nighttime patrol and they couldn't hide their excitement. All day, Raph and Mikey had been beside themselves with exhilaration, totally pumped about finally getting a chance to leave the lair after what had felt like months. Leo had at least had the decency to show some consideration about it, attempting to keep his euphoria neatly contained in hopes that his genius brother couldn't detect it. Apparently, Leonardo was the only one who realized that celebrating their return to patrol was pretty much like rubbing salt in Donnie's wounds.
The truth was, even though Leo was doing his darnedest to hide his enthusiasm from everyone, it was still blatantly obvious to Donatello that all three of his brothers were beaming with anticipation. Mikey was practically bouncing off the walls, Raph was almost pleasant and smiling far more than usual, and Leo was chomping at the bit, no doubt busy planning the best routes to take. Donnie was left to wonder where exactly that left him . . .
Sealing his eyes shut for several long seconds, he tried to suppress the sob he felt coming on.
He was still quarantined in the infirmary, restricted to his cot for the most part. The only time that he had been permitted to leave the laboratory since coming out of his coma was for periodic bathroom breaks, and that was never of his own power. That undignified act entailed one or two of his brothers or his father carrying him like a baby to the restroom and accompanying him as he went about his 'business.' Once he finished 'the job,' they would haul him back to the infirmary, lay him back out on the cot, and hook him back up to his IV. That IV one of the main reasons that he was being confined to the infirmary. He was still receiving heavy pain killers, antibiotics, and liquid nutrients via intravenous tubes.
Donnie looked down at the deep, purplish bruising surrounding the cannula projecting from his arm and grimaced. He couldn't wait to get that thing out of him, but until he could hold down solid food, Leonardo and Master Splinter had forbidden that from happening.
Somehow sinking down even further into his cot than he already was, Donnie sighed heavily and couldn't stop his frown from twisting into an almost comical expression. He felt like a sick little kid being forced to stay in bed on a snow day.
Leo softly chuckled to himself, amused by his younger brother's sulky face.
They had all noticed that 'Donnie the doctor' wasn't very good at being 'Donnie the patient.' There was no question that the genius turtle was getting frustrated with his not-so-speedy recovery.
While Donatello may not have been all that thrilled with his progress, Leonardo was actually rather pleased with the improvement that he had seen in his second youngest brother over the past few days. At this point, they had removed all of the stitches from Donnie's wounds and the only injuries that remained covered up were his shoulder and his broken leg. The majority of his external wounds were barely visible anymore. There was still some slight bruising around his face and neck and along his plastron, but it was gradually yellowing and fading out of sight. His ligature and burn marks were getting more and more difficult to distinguish from his regular skin. If there was going to be any scarring from these wounds, it would be minimal and could possibly even disappear over time. The claw marks in Donnie's plastron had also healed up quite nicely and wouldn't leave too much permanent damage behind. All that really stood out on Donnie's body at this point was the shoulder wound, the leg wound, and the bruising from his IV. Even his pneumonia seemed to be getting better. His uncontrollable hacking fits were getting fewer and farther between.
But as much as Donnie's condition had improved, he still had a long way to go on his road to recovery, both physically and mentally.
The turtle in blue carefully helped his intellectual brother up into a sitting position before finally answering his question.
"Sorry, Donnie, but as your acting family physician, I'm afraid I can't release you just yet," Leo said, making a deplorable attempt to keep the moment somewhat lighthearted. The oldest turtle had known that his answer wasn't going to be what Donnie wanted to hear, so he had tried to lessen the blow by being droll. The problem was, he could never pull off being droll the way that his two middle brothers could.
Judging by the now completely dejected look on his smartest brother's face, Leo had failed in his efforts to soften the setback.
"Your shoulder's looking much better, but I really don't think it's a good idea for you to leave the infirmary yet. You still need to stay hooked up to the IV and I wanna keep you close to the medical equipment, just in case. I know you're tired of being stuck in here, but you still have a lot of healing left to do, Donnie." The playfulness that had been in Leonardo's tone only seconds before was stripped away. He felt the content of the new message he was delivering warranted a more serious tone.
Donnie's brow creased in thought before he offered a reply.
"Well, as the family's primary caregiver, I'd like to give my second opinion, and that's that I believe I should be permitted to leave the infirmary. You said it yourself, Leo. My shoulder is healing and that was the worst of my injuries. My lungs are noticeably clearer and my leg is splinted, so if I put all my weight on my good leg, I won't damage my broken one any further. As for my IV, the stand is portable, Leo. You know that."
Donnie's argument was much fiercer than Leonardo had expected. Evidently, Donnie's ability to provide medical advice was back at full strength, just not the rest of him, despite what he seemed to think.
"No, Donnie. You're just not ready yet. You haven't been able to keep any solid food down, you can barely hold yourself up in a sitting position on your own, and you get winded just by talking for too long. You shouldn't be putting any unnecessary strain on your body. Not until you're stronger."
"But – " Donnie tried to reason, but the attempt was swiftly stopped short by his oldest brother.
"I said no, Donatello, and that's final," Leonardo scolded lightly and watched his brother's head lower down in defeat. The blue-masked ninja felt bad for not giving in to his wounded sibling's pleas, but he kept telling himself that it was for Donnie's own good.
Thinking that he had made himself abundantly clear, Leonardo then turned and went to quickly gather some more clean bandages. That was when his genius brother made a foolish decision they would both soon regret.
When Leo turned back around, he let out a gasp just before throwing the medical supplies to the floor so he could make a mad dash over to his little brother who had already pulled out his IV tubes, pushed himself off the cot, and was attempting to stand up.
"Donnie!" Leo shouted in a panic as he watched Donatello's unbroken leg wobble and give out underneath his weight, and then, to the oldest turtle's horror, his injured brother started falling face first towards the floor.
"NO!"
With his one arm securely taped against him, there was no way that Donnie would be able to catch his fall.
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To be continued . . .
*Author's Notes: /(O.O)\ I warned you that there would be a cliffhanger in this chapter.
Once again, please continue to vote on and/or comment on 'Lost in the Fight' if you are enjoying the story. I always appreciate the feedback. Thanks so much for reading! ;) CJ