Chapter 6

Don sighed. "Just...stupid. Should’ve blocked. That never should have hit me." He felt ashamed of himself and lowered his eyes from Splinter’s. "Don’t know where my mind was...."

"Don’t you?" Splinter’s gaze bore into Don.

Don stared at his mug of tea. Since yesterday he had been resisting his child’s impulse to run to Splinter. He didn’t want to talk about the dreams, or the precognition. Asking Splinter for help would acknowledge the reality of his situation. Don didn’t want this to be real; he wanted to go back to three days ago, when a dream was just a dream, nothing more. But the words slipped out of him without his bidding. "Master, uh, do you believe in....ESP?"

"ESP?" Splinter’s bushy eyebrow rose.

"You know, telepathy and stuff."

"I am aware of the definition of ESP I was surprised by your question."

"So do you?"

"Hmmm...It is certainly true that much can be sensed with the mind that the body cannot perceive. I have struggled to teach you and your brothers the mental techniques which allow a ninja to truly commune with his environment. A ninja’s senses must extend beyond his body. This is what might be called ‘extra-sensory perception’ or a ‘sixth sense.’"

"What about reading minds or knowing the future or making things move without touching them?"

"Many things are possible, Donatello. History tells us of prophets and shamans who knew more than mortals are supposed to know and could perform miracles that most would find impossible. Oracles have found the future in dreams, or perhaps from their intercourse with the gods. There are always those who lie when they claim these powers, but there are also those who truly have such gifts. My son, why do you ask me these questions?"

Donatello swished the tea in his mug. He closed his eyes and sighed softly. It would be so easy to let it all go, to lay the facts before his sensei and see what could be deciphered. He suddenly felt very tired of avoiding Master Splinter’s questions. It was so stupid....he let his feelings go. "Master....I’m so confused." He bowed his head. Splinter waited for him to continue. "I don’t know if I really want to tell anyone; it’s too bizarre. It scares me."

"What scares you?" Master Splinter asked gently.

Knowing the future, he wanted to say, but didn’t. Finally, "The dreams....." He shivered slightly, his hand numbing from holding the ice to his head for so long. "It was terrible. People were dying and I didn’t even try to help. I thought it was the most awful thing I’d ever seen and then-" His voice dropped to a whisper. "And then I woke up and it was real." A deep shuddering breath before he went on: "And then there was another one. Last night."

"And that, too, became real?"

"I-don’t know. Nothing’s happened yet, but what if it does? Master, what if it comes true just like last time? I don’t know what to do...." A tear dripped down his cheek and he closed his eyes as waves of helplessness rolled over him.

Splinter’s hand lightly touched his cheek. "My son." Don looked up at him again. "Why does this terrify you so?"

Don shrugged a little. "It’s just that-knowing what’s going to happen, and in such detail...."

"It is not something you are prepared to deal with," Splinter finished. "Perhaps, my son, it is that you feel responsible for what you see, and your fear is a fear that you will fail in your responsibility."

Don thought a moment a slowly nodded. "I guess so."

"Why do you feel responsible for what you dream?"

"Well if you know something is going to happen, shouldn’t you try to stop it? It’s not like it’s just some stupid game-what if the lives of dozens of people are at stake?"

Splinter sat quietly. "I can ease your mind into a meditative state," he said slowly. "I can give you tea which will ease your headache or cause you to sleep. But I cannot stop you from dreaming." Don nodded. "You have been given a gift-"

"A gift!" Don broke out, angrily. "What kind of gift is it to know that people are going to suffer and die? I didn’t ask for it, and I don’t want it!"

Splinter sighed. "I’m afraid that is not your choice to make. You have been given a gift of great power, and I doubt that it is possible to return it. Donatello, the way that you may control this power is to control your own mind. You cannot stop the dreams, but you must realize that you are only seeing the future, not causing it. The deaths of those people are not your fault."

"Even if it might have been possible to stop the event that caused their deaths?"

"The word ‘might’ is the key, Donatello. To spend one’s life worrying over what might happen, what might have been possible, is futile. Games of ‘what if’ will not ease your mind." Splinter gently grasped Don’s arm. "Get some rest, Donatello."

"But if there was a way to stop something that you’re almost positive is going to happen-should you do it?"

"Do what you must, my son," Splinter said quietly. "But remember that there is danger in feeling responsible for events beyond your control." And he was gone.

Don woke from a light doze and reached for his bedside clock. 11:52. His headache was gone, though the spot on his head was still tender and sore. Probably would be for a few days. He picked up his empty mug and walked out of his room and toward the kitchen. As he passed through the living room, only Mike looked up from the TV show he was watching with Raph. Leo, buried in a book, didn’t seem to notice his passing. Splinter was nowhere to be found.

In the kitchen, he rinsed out his mug and set it in the sink. He found the remains of something in a little box marked in Chinese, and dumped it into a plastic container so he could nuke it. He found himself a Coke and leaned on the counter.

He allowed his mind to wander back to his talk with Splinter. He did feel better, having talked to him, but knowing why fear held him didn’t help him escape its grasp. There were still doubts in him, still questions of whether he was-precognitive. But with each passing moment, he felt more and more sure that he was. He couldn’t pass the dreams off as a delusion. But what, then, should he do?

Don knew he had to do something. No matter what Splinter said, he couldn’t just let it go. There had to be a reason he was dreaming these things, right? Intercourse with the gods-somehow he doubted that any gods were speaking through him. But whoever, or whatever, was sending these dreams, surely didn’t intend for him to sit on his butt and watch them come true. So he must be meant to do something about them. But what? He had already discarded the idea of visiting the potential crime scene himself-besides, it was far too late for that. Almost 12:00....With a start, Don remembered that the bomb was supposed to go off at 12:07:07. Even if the idea of waltzing down to the school himself was plausible, there was no way he could make it in less than ten minutes.

So he would just have to get someone else to go instead.

But who would believe him? Master Splinter believed him, but Splinter was old and wise. He knew a lot more than most arrogant people claimed to know. Humans were a whole other story. They didn’t know him. How would they know that he was telling the truth. They might not even believe that precognition was possible. They’d want to know who he was, why he was calling. What if they could trace the phone call? Fear chilled him. Stop it! This isn’t some dumb cop movie! he scolded himself. But maybe, since sometimes informants and criminals might call, they would already be set up to trace any weird calls.

Don didn’t like to think about what would happen if humans got ahold of his location. He couldn’t risk his family’s lives that way. But if he didn’t call, the lives of hundreds of others would be in even greater, more immediate danger. It wasn’t fair! He shouldn’t have to make decisions like this! He slowly paced across the kitchen and stood staring at the phone on the wall.

Oh Master, he thought helplessly, what should I do?

Do what you must, my son.

Donatello reached for the phone......