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Sleep proved itself to be a blessing and a curse.
He'd come to this conclusion long before his captivity. Way back when his biggest concern was how much work he could get in without getting caught, and how regretfully wonderful it was when he was finally ushered to bed and could quiet his mind for a bit.
Sleep was his only escape.
From his consuming thoughts, the ache, the fear, the pain- it was a blissful absolute nothing that kidnapped his conscious and separated him from the horrors that surrounded him. His mind used to be his greatest defense, his weapon against the world, but it turned against him when it lost the ability to fight back, and he lost control.
His thoughts were dark and suffocating, trapping him in their own kind of prison, giving him their own kind of torture. Sleep was the only thing that kept him sane.
Then sleep turned against him too.
It was whenever they'd come for him, with their chains and their needles, and he'd be reminded that it was happening again. They refused to kill him, even brought him back that one time he began slipping- he'd felt himself slip- but they'd brought him back for another round of torture because he couldn't die.
They had experiments to do, experiments that required him living- why couldn't they just let him die- and they didn't have a semblance of humanity in them to allow for any kind of mercy.
So they'd come for him, and he'd feel the panic rise as if this didn't happen every time, as if he really thought they were going to let him waste away in his cell, and there'd be a flash of something in the back of his traitorous mind, something angry and terrified, and he'd want to let loose, use to defend himself from these predators- beasts- monsters-
-and then he'd emerge from the dark, new bruises from syringes littering his body, the never-ending ache that lived his bones leaving him lying in the spot they'd drop him, numb and exhausted, another crack in the soul that had lost his will to live.
Sometimes his forced sleep led to nightmares, jumbled clips of scenes that left a lingering terror that he couldn't explain when his eyes opened again. He never remembered what they were like, but he almost wished that he did.
He couldn't explain it, but he felt like they were important, like maybe the horror his subconscious was creating meant something, but they faded when he awoke, and it was useless to seek them out.
He tried not to think of what his brothers would think if they saw him like this. Perhaps his fainting episodes were because he'd lost the will to fight, and his fear took over. Fear was an enemy that a ninja was meant to control, and he'd surrendered to it. He was sure they'd searched for him when he went missing, but he didn't know how long ago that was, and he feared they'd never find him.
His family had been dependent on his technical know-how. As much as he'd complain, he'd taken the position of team genius proudly. He'd denied their attempts to help. His role had made him feel important. He should have taught them when he had the chance.
Lying cold and useless on the cell floor, Donnie could only hope that they were doing okay without him.
A bright light splashed over the room, and the metal door beeped its permission for outside entrance as his heart jumped to his throat, a fury prickling in the back of his mind when he attempted to rise-
-he lunged as they entered, fire in his blood and hatred in his growl. He was going to kill them, he was going to end every last one, just like those lifeless things they had him tear apart, but now they were finally going to bleed-
-the final strap was put over his arm, and a last, desperate hiss exited as he continued his futile struggles, a scream tearing from his throat when the needle entered flesh, his hatred smothering the pain as he clenched his hand into a fist, feeling the change, how something sharp was digging into scaled skin, and his fingers were forced away as something dripped down his palm-
-they were green and like him, but they were different, and that was dangerous. He hissed a warning to stay back, and they dared approach anyway. This was unacceptable. They were bold, a danger that had to end now, and so he took down the strongest while his attention shifted for a moment, knocking him to the floor as he had fallen so many times and raising his bleeding claw to end it-
-they'd taken him somewhere new, yet another different and dangerous. He screeched his fury, and they panicked. It filled him with a new satisfaction, and he repeated the action, jumping at one. It was there, and then it wasn't, and he hit the ground, his bandaged arm taking the blow and spots dancing before his eyes, a scream pulling from his lips as this new agony consumed him-
Donnie awoke with a sharp gasp, desperately sucking in air as if he'd been deprived of it for days. He briefly wondered if this was actually the case, it wouldn't be the first time they went to extremes to test his durability, but that wasn't a train of thought that he dared go down.
He simply remained on the ground and focused on reminding his lungs of how it felt to get ample oxygen.
He didn't dare open his eyes as the anger stabbed the back of his mind, thinking over the question that he always asked himself when he awoke. The answers were written into his brain, something he held tightly to, lest he loses what he held most dear.
Who am I?
Donatello, quadruplet brother of four. Son of a ninjitsu master. Previously mutant turtle, a ninja, and inventor. My sensei is Hamato Yoshi, and my brothers and I train under him. We're named after Renaissance artists, Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, Michelangelo- we are different, but we are one, and every minute without them is a torture of its own.
His eyes open as his mind calms, attempting to pull himself up, a yelp of pain when he puts weight on his arms. He hits the ground, lying on his side as he draws the throbbing limb to his chest, hugging it and trying to figure out what they'd done now. His already freakish green, three-fingered hand now bore claws, ugly things made only to harm. Donnie knows that he might never type or write with it again, and he's crushed under the emotions that rise to the back of his throat, vision blurring.
It was never enough. First, they'd just done tests, and then they began taking from him. Changing him. Alerting the DNA structure that made him a Hamato. He hardly recognized himself sometimes, warped and freakish as he'd become, and yet they still took more and more.
How long until they took what made him, Him, too?
Something in him always panicked when this thought entered, but he refused to acknowledge that it was possible. He was himself- he knew, he hoped, because he felt like himself, and he was sure that if he changed, he would know. Surely, he had to know.
He sense the presence before it touched his arm and his entire body reacted, flinching hard as he opened his eyes, immediately blinded by the bright light that he hadn't noticed behind his eyelids.
He was prepared to be dragged to his feet or forced to the ground, but the touch pulled away as a gentle voice muttered, "Woah, hey, it's okay. Not gonna hurt you. The guys say you gotta sleep until we figure this out, kay? There we go, now just let me..."
His good arm was cautiously lifted, and he snapped out of his stupor, yanking it away and getting in a crouched position to examine what had to be a trick- and met the startled blue eyes of his baby brother, watching as his gaze widened in shock as he held it.
The normally sunny voice shook as if the word pained him to say.
"...Donnie?"
Donnie snapped out of his daze, forced some kind of response to get dislodged from the tangled emotions in his throat, and then his eyes flickered to the side, to the shaking green hand clutching an object in a death grip.
He saw the needle, and the ground fell out from underneath him.
-He'd tackled his captor to the ground before he could realize that he was going to attack, smashing the needle to the ground and watching as it shattered, red blood mixing with the substance and giving it swirls-
-a screech filled the air as he turned to his new assailant, only to find the true danger of this new furred captor standing over him. He crouched low in submittance, aware that now was not the time to risk taking on a creature of that power, and only watched as the two other green creatures dashed to their fallen's side-
-there was no sense to his captors, screaming and yelling then clinging tightly to one another, neither side seeming to win. They were miserable afterward, and he hissed a warning whenever attention swerved back to him. The furred creature knelt by his side, and he stiffed, frozen as a hand reached out to him-
-he grunted as he pulled himself upright, trying to ignore the constant noises of the captor beside him. He scooted closer to the wall, his chain rattling as he moved, crouching to an innocent-looking position to see if he could bait him closer. It did not work. The creature only kept talking, an annoying pest that never seemed to leave, and he was reminded of how boring the new prison was-
His throat burned as he awoke, and the next swallow made him wince, a new kind of confused dread sinking into his bones. How long had he been without water to feel this way? Was this one of the new tests? A horrid kind of forced dehydration?
His stomach churned at the thought of the torture that he had to endure awake, and he quickly gave himself something else to focus on.
Who am I?
Donatello, quadruplet brother of four. Son of a ninjitsu master. Previously mutant turtle, a ninja, and inventor. My sensei is Hamato Yoshi, and my brothers and I train under him. We're named after Renaissance artists, Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, Michelangelo- Mikey
Mikey?
A memory flooded him, and panic rose, his screams as he was injected over and over echoing around him as he tried to comprehend what he'd seen, why Mikey would be there with- it didn't make sense. It had to be a dream, one of those unexplainable nightmares- but he never remembered those.
They were never that real, never that vivid, but he couldn't accept that such a possibility was real because his mind was already buckling under the weight of it. It occurred to him that maybe he was losing his mind, and he immediately grappled onto that thought because as terrifying as it was, it was a million times better than- than-
He didn't know he was sobbing on the floor until he wasn't anymore, and he was being held, a pair of shaky arms keeping him upright as he fought to breathe through the sobs that rose from the depth of his being.
He knew they had won, and that only killed him more, the pieces of his shattered soul fading as he felt his own freakish claws stabbing into his arm, the hold around him distant, yet somehow grounding him before he could lose himself.
At first, he couldn't comprehend anything through the anguish, but then his abused throat gave out on him, and he heard the voice more clearly, reminding him that he'd lost his mind.
He didn't really mind this hallucination though, and he dared to hope that it would last a while, no matter how scarring it would be to lose.
"It's okay. It's okay. I-I've got you, Dee. I've got you, big brother. I'm here. You're home. It's okay. It's going to be okay."
The silent sobs increased as his body shook with the strain, hating and loving the cruelty of his mind as it gave him exactly what he'd wanted for so long. He was never happier that his little brother wouldn't shut up, whispering reassurances as Donnie remained trembling against him, slowly calming once more, not wanting to end the hallucination by accidentally shaking himself free of it.
He just needed a few more minutes.
"Dee?" Tired brown eyes rose to meet baby blue, and he realized that they were glassy, a beaming grin on his face even as tears streamed. "I knew it. I knew I saw you."
Donnie didn't respond, confused and drained, only lowering his head and closing his eyes, feeling as Mikey tightened his grip. "Don't go away yet. Stay with me, bro. Y-You wanna talk to Leo and Raph? They missed you too."
Donnie fought the fog as he opened his eyes again, stiffening slightly as his heart pounds, realizing that he does want that. He wants that more than anything, and if this hallucination can give it to him...
An arm releases him, and Donnie can feel him fumble with his belt, pulling out his t-phone and shakily dialing. He can hear the soft tune it makes a few seconds before someone picks up, and Mikey raises the phone. "Bro? Yeah, yeah I know it's late- I'm fine, I just- no- no- don't hang up, I need you and Raph to come to the lab. Yes, I went in aga- Leo, please- dude, would you just- Leo, for once in your life, just listen to me!"
His voice descends into a sharp hiss, and Donnie feels himself shrink into his shell, wondering if his mind's about to take a darker turn. Mikey's voice softens, whispering an apology as he rubs his carapace. "Look. Just wake Raph and quietly come to the lab. Like, ninja stealth, got me? No, I'm fine- no, bro, both of you. Please?"
A moment of pause, and Mikey sighs in relief, "Yeah. I owe you. Okay. Good luck."
He hangs up, and both arms resume the hug, and Donnie curls his tail on his lap, relaxing into the safe hold with the promise of reunion, mind partially drifting until he hears voices. They hiss out for Mikey, and Mikey answers softly, resuming rubbing his carapace when Donnie shudders as the figures approach, their features blinded by the lights behind them.
"What the-?!"
"Mikey, why are you-!?"
"Shhh!" Mikey leans his cheek on Donnie's skull directly after, curling around the quivering form and holding him as though protecting him from those he'd invited, "Don't spook him. Be quiet and careful and very, very slow."
"You're so stupid-"
"I can't believe you'd really-"
Donnie forced his head to raise despite the fact that it weighed tons and squinted at the brothers near them, unable to distinguish much and getting a headache from trying. Ignoring the pain in his throat as he swallowed, he tested the waters with a choked whisper that barely counted as a word, "...Guys?"
Silence fell in an instant.
Leo was the first to break it, dropping to his knees and leaning forward until their faces were inches away. He could see his older brother clearly, his eyes teary and shocked, a thumb reaching out to brush his wet cheek. "Donnie?"
Donnie wanted to respond, but the words were trapped behind the sting of his aching throat, so he forced himself to smile instead, holding the weak attempt for a second or two before allowing his burning eyes to shut.
"What's wrong with him?"
"I don't know. Mikey, how...? I mean, it's been weeks... How did you manage to reach him?"
"I told you that I saw him. He comes back sometimes, but only a little bit. He's always here and then gone, but he always looks scared first- scared and then angry. Like when he's scared, It gets strong and kicks him out."
"Life isn't a comic, doofus."
"That doesn't mean he's wrong. We didn't listen the first time, but it's about time we start. What else have you noticed?"
"Not a lot, but dudes, look at his arm. He's hurting himself, but I don't think he knows."
His brother's voices seemed distant, a dull safe thrum whose meaning was lost behind the fog in his thoughts, but he felt it clearly when a hand started to pry his throbbing arm from the other.
He panicked as he jumped to the conclusion that they were beginning the next transformation, a sudden horror rising because if Mikey was a part of it, then that could mean Leo and Raph were too- and his eyes shot open as he yanked it back, the fog backing down as a dark feeling, an urge to fight back began to course through his blood and-
"Shhh, Don. Donnie. Hey. You're home. It's us. Stay here, bro. It's just Leo, Raph, and Mikey. Can you hear me? Donnie?"
He struggled with himself, breathing heavily and trying to focus on anything around him, only to find everything too blurred and bright. They still had hold of his arm, and he watched as it was gently pried from his other, three thin scarlet streams showing just how hard he must have been clutching it.
Two hands kept hold of his as a blurred figure wrap his arm, and he squeezed the hands every now and then, like a game, a test, waiting to see if they would squeeze back. They did, every time, and he kept his attention on their hands, ignoring the darkness that demanded blood. He didn't want to hurt his brothers if they were there, but he couldn't stand by and let them warp him either.
It didn't make sense why they'd do this; it hurt- everything hurt, he was scared- whatever he did, he was sorry, he was so sorry- it hurt- they were hurting him, he didn't want this-
Donnie woke up with a start, trembling as a mute terror remained curled in his gut, the familiar sensation of having a nightmare that he didn't understand, one that he wouldn't remember. He leaned his head against the soft floor, trying to summon his thoughts.
Who am I?
Donatello, quadruplet brother of four. Son of a ninjitsu master. Previously mutant turtle, a ninja, and inventor. My sensei is Hamato Yoshi and my brothers-
My brothers...
The recent memories returned, and he wished they'd stayed away, unaware that he'd started crying again, numb tears flowing as his exhausted body wouldn't move until someone was shushing him, repeating that he was home and safe.
Safe was an illusion that he refused to let himself fall for, and he sucked in a desperate breath, his words cracked and broken, "P-please, le-ave m-e alone. It hu-urts- don't hurt me, I want- I'm s-sorry please-"
"No one's going to harm you, my son." A hand on his shoulder, a solid pressure that softened the weight of his terror, and he looked up at his father, finding worried brown eyes familiar to those that he saw in the mirror.
"Father?"
"I am here."
His eyes watered, and he looked away. "You're not."
"I know it must be hard to believe." His father's tone was calm, and it felt like his calm was banishing the anxiety from his bones, freeing him from the hold they'd had on him for so long.
The moment felt too real to be something that his mind was making up, and he wondered if maybe this one finally was real, his gaze locked with his father's. "But this is no dream. You are home once more, and we love you, my son. You are free now. There is no more reason for fear."
Donnie let out his breath and nodded once, a student responding to the wise words of his teacher, to the man who had taken in him and his brothers since they were young and done everything he could to protect them. Someone who would never lie to him, not even in during a hallucination conjured by his mind.
He was home.
Donnie struggled upright, and Splinter carefully helped him to sit up, a steady rock to bridge his son's turmoil. He felt better than, a little more like himself as he tried to ignore the blinding light from over the tree. His eyes adjusted slowly, and then he turned to his father. "My brothers?"
"I will retrieve them." Splinter made sure he was steady before abruptly disappearing from sight.
There was a migraine forming in the back of his mind now that the comforting presence was gone, a new panic warning that he was going to suffer for this naive trust, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
He felt like a child when Splinter appeared again, holding out his arms and requesting a hug from the sensei that he wasn't sure would give it. Yet his father didn't hesitate to bring him into his arms, and Donnie didn't even need to tuck into the hold, breathing easier now that he had the contact, reminiscing in the familiar scents of incense and tea.
"Donnie!?"
A chorus of voices, shocked and loud, and Donnie felt a new panic rise, his father tightening his grip as he snapped a reprimand overhead, reminding them to keep in mind what was discussed. He fought to steady his breathing as they murmured apologies, their steps surprisingly loud for ninjas as they dashed to their side.
Donnie peeked around his father's arms at his brothers, not daring to detach just yet, and their nervous eyes all lit up when he did. Mikey's smile looked like it must have hurt. "Hey bro. Welcome back."
"Thanks." Donnie wanted his voice to come out stronger than it did, but the word died as his gaze flickered between the weapons his brothers bore, trying to stop that panic that threatened to rise. Splinter said he was safe, they wouldn't hurt him, his family wouldn't hurt him, no one was going to hurt him here, he was safe-
But for how long?
"Don?" He was trembling again, and he avoided the emerald gaze filled with worry; his brothers settled around their father. He wanted to get his thoughts to quiet, but they refused to obey, and he worried that he was going to lose to sleep again.
He spoke before he comprehended that he was going to. "They found me once. They'll find me again. They'll take me back."
"No, they won't." Leo's tone was bitter and firm. "Not again. Never again."
"No one's touching you anymore, Donnie." Raph seconded immediately.
"We got you, bro." Mikey smirked confidently, a hardness in his eyes. "They won't be stupid enough to try. And if they do, those freaks'll regret it big time."
Donnie flinched and buried his face in his father's robe, another weak "Thanks" escaping as he struggled to keep his emotions under control. He glanced down at his clawed hand, and his father gently took it. "You are no freak, my son. Everything done to you was by force, and the only monsters are those who inflict their will upon those in their grasp. It does not matter what you look like now, or what they have done to your mind, because you still belong here, and you will always be our Donatello."
There was a chorus of agreements, and Donnie's heart warmed for only a moment before it dropped into his gut, and he glanced up. "My mind? What...?"
His brothers stiffened, and his father hesitated. "Perhaps that is a conversation for when you are stronger. Just know that you are not to blame for anything done to you."
Donnie nodded slowly, unnerved by the implications behind that, but he was too exhausted to press. Any world-shattering discoveries could wait until his world stopped collapsing inward on him, threatening to suffocate him at every turn.
He hadn't been awake for long, but the exhaustion in his bones never left no matter how much he slept, and he could feel himself slipping from reality. He knew his family probably had more to say, they hadn't seen each other in so long, but he didn't have the energy. His voice slurred as he tried to ask for permission. "Father?"
"It is alright. You have nothing to fear. We will be here when you return." His father swore as Donnie glanced at his brothers with half-lidded eyes. The wording was weird, but he accepted it as Raph nodded and Leo gave him a small smile. Mikey scooted closer to take his good hand, and Donnie squeezed, resting his head against his father's chest.
Sleep was a complicated thing. It crept up from behind and stole him away from his family, from the moment that he knew he wanted to dwell in just a little bit longer, but it was reassuring and dense, promising to return him to them when he emerged again.
It dragged him into the dark whenever they had entered, with needles and chains and newly planned tortures, but it kept him safe and sane until his family could come for him- until they could find him and bring him home.
He would learn more later, the ugly truth scarring his healing soul and bringing out the beast that lurked within, but he'd learn to be thankful for the sleep that blocked the beast from becoming him, the sleep that kept them separated, so his brothers could eventually see Him and not It, and he could feel like himself again.
Sleep was a blessing and a curse, and Donnie wouldn't have wanted it any other way.