Nirvana

The truth of suffering...
"'All life is suffering', my master used to say. 'We must cast away the earthly ties which bind us and come to accept the reality of our existence. Only then can we acknowledge what we truly are.' But just what were we exactly? That was the question.

I had pondered that idea on many an occasion. What are we? Turtles? Men? Are we in fact part human? Is it true that animals have no souls, no set pattern of morals or sense of self? I couldn't remember what it had been like to be an ordinary turtle. I had been one for such a short time in my life. I was an infant then, barely able to comprehend the world around me. But we did have souls after our mutation, of that I am sure. I guess by human's standards, that would make us more like them than like any primate or beast of the earth. But still, some of the basic animal instincts had stayed with us - the keen sense of smell, the urge to hunt..." Don smiled a little. "Heck, I'd even felt like pulling myself inside my shell from time to time when I felt threatened, especially if Raphael and Leonardo were duking it out again. Of course, through all my studying and experimenting on the subject, I've still to this day never gotten a clear, accurate answer. There are far too many things to factor in.

Take Raph for instance...his animalistic urges could be so intense, it made him seem more ferocious than a lion at times. And then there was Mikey - cook, writer, babysitter...he was probably the most human of us all. Atleast...his emotions were the most honest..."

Don sighed and stared out the window at the setting sun. The low clouds glowed pink above the bright orange disk, the grass blowing gently in the breeze. It was almost an exact picture of that last day in New York. As painful memories flooded his mind, he found himself closing his eyes in an attempt to push them back once again. But every time he tried, those faces would return to stare at him with their hollow eyes.

^^DONATELLO?  ARE YOU WELL?^^

Don ran a hand slowly over his head, as if trying to erase the images from it, and opened his eyes. "Yes, Chet. I'm fine." I think... "Now, where was I?"

^^YOU WERE SPEAKING OF YOUR EXISTENCE^^

"Oh, yes...well, there were the obvious things - we were ninjas, we were turtles, we were our master's adoptive sons. Then there were the attributes that went a little deeper, the ones that were hidden beneath the surface.

Raphael was stubborn and pig-headed, and he frequently suffered from bouts of tormenting anger, but he also had a gentle side. It was an attribute that rarely came out, but over time, we had all come to know it was there. We never spoke of it outright, for fear that he'd clam up again, or get defensive, but I could see in their eyes that they realized it too.

It was only at the truly horrific times that those steel walls would lower a bit and allow his true emotions to shine through. When one of us was severely wounded, especially Michaelangelo, his pain would become too great to conceal any longer. His sense of family and brotherhood was very strong, and the harsh realization that the five of us were all we had in this world had perhaps stricken him the hardest. There were several occasions when I saw him cry. Usually he'd try to hide it, and he thought he'd succeeded, but even after the tears had been wiped away, the anger and revenge that burned in his eyes always gave him away. Of course, Shadow and the other children had always been able to bring out that soft side too, though when we were around, he acted cool and distant so as not to arouse our suspicions.

Michaelangelo, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. His feelings were an open book. There wasn't too much he hid from the rest of us. Perhaps it was because, unlike Raphael, he didn't feel threatened by his emotions. Mike always found satisfaction in the art of expression, where Raph's inner turmoils seemed to frighten him more than he was willing to admit.

Mike always knew the right things to say and do to lift our spirits when we were down. There wasn't anything he couldn't make a joke out of. I'll admit, at times it could be really annoying, especially when he teased about important things, such as my research, but he always meant well. However, despite Mike's outward cheerfulness, inside, there was an underlying depression that became gradually more apparent as we aged. Because, try as he might to forget the hardships and to overlook that we were freaks in a world of hate, the fact still remained.

I secretly looked up to Leonardo in many ways. Although I did not envy his position of authority, I had to admire his persistance and grace. He was Splinter's favorite, try as he might to insist otherwise. We all knew it. I believe that's one of the reasons Raphael was always so indignant to his role as leader. There was a certain amount of jealousy there. After all, Raphael was just as skilled as Leonardo was in the martial arts, perhaps even more so. He only lacked the discipline and foresight. But those things were of utmost importance to Splinter. He said that focus and tranquility of mind were essential in order to master the art.

But despite all of Leo's seriousness and strength, he did have his faults. He was too hard on himself, and there were times when self punishment and his strife for perfection almost drove him straight into the ground. His relentless determination matched only Raphael's, rendering him just as stubborn and ornery at times. They really were a lot more alike than any of us bothered to point out."

Donatello paused to pour himself a glass of water. All this talking was making his throat dry. There was a long silence as he drank slowly, remembering the years of his life one by one, almost as if seeing it all again for the first time, through someone else's eyes.

^^AND WHAT OF YOU, DONATELLO?^^

The turtle smiled bitterly. "Me? Well, Chet...maybe I should just start from the beginning..."

"The year was 1984. We were thirteen then, and everything around us was new and exciting. It was one of the few times we had ventured out into the world above, Splinter being the sheltering father that he was. In the thirteen years we had been alive, we hadn't even experienced much of life itself yet. We had no idea what wonders and horrors the outside world contained.

We had spent our lives in the seclusion and secrecy of the sewers, and knowing nothing else, had come to accept that as our home. We knew we were different. We had watched a lot of television and read a lot of books. We weren't human like the rest of the vigilant world. We were freaks of nature. Master Splinter gave us that speech of his often. 'The outside world would reject us.' I used to think it was his way of instilling fear in us so we would behave. Little did I know then the horrors that awaited us, just because we were different. Still, we held a certain hope for the future, that some day we could venture above freely, and a wondrous world would be waiting for us.

Finally, the day came when our wish would come to fruition, or so we first thought. We had been above before, always at night, and always in secrecy and disguise, but our trips had been minimal and short, and only on special occasions, like the time we were twelve and Splinter had taken us to see the fireworks on the Fourth of July. But this was something different. We were alone now with nothing to protect us but the skills he'd taught us."

^^AND HOW DID YOUR MASTER INSTILL THESE SKILLS?^^

Don sighed and tapped his chin in thought, a bittersweet smile crossing his lips. "Master Splinter was a very resourceful rat. He grew up here, in Japan as a pet. His master, Hamato Yoshi, a great warrior, taught him the ways of ninja. He was a part of the Foot before he was killed. Splinter was very adept at mimicking his master's movements, and Yoshi seemed to enjoy watching him. After his mutation, Splinter's intelligence grew to new heights, and he began to teach us everything he knew.

Communication was difficult at first, as Splinter only knew the language of the rats, and my brothers and I hardly knew any speech yet at all. After spending many hours in front of an old rundown television set he'd found, he began to slowly train his vocal chords and speech patterns to mimick the human language. It was a long, slow process, and one that required much determination and concentration.

He started with Japanese, teaching us the limited vocabulary he could remember from his master Yoshi, and then, after we'd mastered enough to be able to communicate our needs and wishes, we began to learn English, the language of America.

Survival was very tough in the first few years. The New York winters were cold and wet. Being turtles, our bodies weren't designed for the harsh weather. It made us slow and sluggish, and at times we became so weak we thought we wouldn't make it to see another summer. Hibernation was a problem as well. Splinter was worried that if an emergency arose, he would have trouble waking us to get us to safety. When I was ten however, I figured out a way to keep our body temperatures from dropping so rapidly. With some spare parts Splinter had scavanged, I transformed the scarce overhead lights, and a couple of old lanterns into heat lamps. Splinter also helped us build a fire pit in the center of the bedroom area. It was small so as not to catch anything on fire as we slept, but the heat it exuded allowed us to live comfortably until spring arrived.

The dampness and filth brought on other problems as well. Before we figured out a decent means of insulation, our sewer lair was literally bombarded with a continuous foul stench, which made sleeping, eating and other daily activities difficult at times. And with the dirt and smell came decay and disease. It was a constant concern of Splinter's that we remain healthy and happy. Luckily for us, the mutation did increase our immunities by about fifty percent, and even though we had ailments from time to time, we managed to stay clear from severe health problems.

Food was scarce as well. Splinter ventured out almost nightly, scavanging whatever he could find from dumpsters and trash bins, but most of it turned out to be stale or spoiled. Many nights, we were sent to bed hungry and grumpy, and there were times when days would pass between meals. Splinter was great though. He never ceased to prove self-sacrificing. I remember many times when he'd allowed himself to go hungry just to be sure we had enough.

Our furnishings were also sub-standard. After years of collection, we'd managed to muster up a ratty old couch, another broken television that I fixed up and got into working order, a couple of lamps, and some old matresses and futons on which to sleep. One day, Raph found an old broken reclining chair by the gutter that we fixed up as best we could for Splinter. Mike patched up the holes and tears with colorful swatches of fabric, Leo decorated it with the most comfortable cushion he could find, and I worked on it night and day for a week until it swiveled and reclined again. We saved it in another part of the sewer and surprised him with it on his birthday. He loved it. I think we almost made him cry."

Don stopped for a moment and smiled, wiping the tears that had escaped from his own eyes.

^^IT SOUNDS AS THOUGH YOU HAD A DIFFICULT CHILDHOOD^^

"Difficult...at times, yeah. But even though we didn't have much, that way of life was all we had ever really known. Most of the time, despite the hardships, we were happy and content. We had eachother, and a master who loved us and taught us many interesting things. He was our teacher, our father and our sensei. I don't know what we would have done in those beginning years without him. Those were the happy times, Chet. We hadn't ever known what true sorrow and loss really were. But that first night alone, above the streets - that's when it all began to change..."

Don tore the printout loose and stared at it for a moment, scanning the list for the appropriate file. "Chet, start VR Holo program."

^^ACCESSING...HOLO PROGRAM INITIATED^^

"Pull up written log 1142."

^^DOWNLOADING...OBJECTIVE COMPLETE.  LOADING VIRTUAL LIFE FORMS...^^

"I was the last to leave that dreary place," Don spoke again as the computer's processor sparked to life. "And as I wandered around helplessly, gathering up my few belongings, I'd forced myself to search the other rooms, to take whatever I could salvage as a rememberance. Leo and Mike had both kept a journal. Raph hadn't kept anything of the sort, but he did have that old camcorder Casey had given him so long ago. There was a small stack of video tapes beneath his bed, and despite the warning signs that went off in my head, I took those too. I didn't read much of the journals, only a couple of pages here and there. It was all too heartbreaking for me. So that's when I programed the contents into you instead, Chet. Do you still have everything separated into individual files?

^^SEVENTEEN THOUSAND, FOUR HUNDRED AND TWELVE FILES TO BE EXACT^^

Don couldn't help but smile. This computer he'd built of his own accord had turned out to be his greatest accomplishment. Not only had Chet kept him company all these years, but it was intelligent and extremely helpful as well. It's attention to detail seemed to surpass even his own.

Suddenly, the room began to change and the walls around him took on an eery blue glow. Donatello took a step back and closed his eyes for a moment as the images reappeared one by one before him. His brothers and himself as children, barely in their teenage years, now occupied the room. They stood facing him, their backs only a few feet from a computer generated brick wall, so clear in every detail, it was as if he was experiencing it all over again. The turtles were tense with anticipation, their faces taught and serious, their weapons drawn in challenge.

Don swallowed hard as he began to relive the events of his life. As the images continued to load, the accuracy of the scene around him transported him back through time, and he was once again the Donatello of his youth, full of vigor and wonder, so naive and vulnerable.

Leo's voice broke the silence, and Don couldn't help but jump in surprise. "We made a wrong turn somewhere..." It was undeniably his brother. He could never forget that voice.

"Chet...how did you do that?"

^^I HAVE BEEN PROGRAMMED WITH A MICROCHIP THAT--^^

"No...no...I mean, how did you replicate his voice? How did you know...?"

^^THE SPEECH PATTERN DEPICTED WAS DOWNLOADED FROM LOG 4492--^^

Don scanned the printout again, finally spotting the file in question. "Ahhh...yes...Raph's videos..." He stared at Leonardo for a moment, lost in the sound of his voice, the majesty of his presence. He was so real. For a moment he wondered if he could transport himself back there again by simply reaching out and touching him. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Chet. "Continue."

Leo sprang to life again. Don watched in nervous anticipation as he and his brothers backed themselves up against the wall. They were cornered, and the Purple Dragon Gang was closing in. Don was amazed at the capability of this Artificial Intelligence software package he'd purchased. Everything was so clear and accurate. He could actually smell the stench from the nearby trash dumpter and feel the chill night air on his face, taking him back to that exact moment in history.

* "We made a wrong turn somewhere..." Leo's voice started again. "We were caught with our backs to the wall in a trash-strewn alley. Barring the way were fifteen members of the Purple Dragon Gang. We knew the only way they'd let us out of there is if we were dead."

Don remembered that night like it was yesterday. And although he knew everything that would transpire in the next fifteen minutes, he couldn't help but feel his muscles tightening in anticipation.

"I held my katana in a relaxed ready position. To my left, Donatello and Michaelangelo followed suit with staff and nunchaku."

He glanced at Michaelangelo, at the naive excitement in the brown eyes, and he almost cried at the memory. What happened to you, Mike? Why did things have to end so badly? He lowered his head and took in a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. Then, mustering his courage, he stared up into his own youthful face, and as their eyes met, he felt the fear return...

"Raphael guarded my right...I could sense his body quivering with tense energy, waiting to be triggered into savage, slashing release! They thought we were wearing costumes. They were wrong."

Don watched as both parties began to attack. Raph broke into a firey ball of intesity, his punches and kicks unwavering beneath the yellow light of the streetlamp. Leo moved swiftly, almost silently, his motions fluid and calm, while Mike used speed and force to keep his enemies at bay. He watched himself, could see that look of terror well up in his eyes, and the fear gripped him. For now, he knew what the future held. He could predict the outcome this single night would have on the rest of their lives.

"These guys were young, but no rookies. They were toughened by the streets. They had fought and beat everything on two legs in this area...except us. The punks didn't waste much time on hand-to-hand. They broke into small groups and opened up with their artillery! Raphael loves this stuff. There was a quick flash as his sais came out. The three thugs didn't even see that..."

Don watched in horror as his brother drove the sai into flesh, literally shredding his enemies to pieces.

"Who are these guys--?" One of the thugs was speaking now.

"Don't know..." said another. "Some kinda freaks! But even freaks can bleed! Cut 'em!"

"Yes, we did bleed..." Leo admitted. "And so did they!"

Raph dove another sai into a chest. A spine chilling crack could be heard as Mike's nunchaku made contact with bone, shattering it into a thousand pieces. Don watched himself, moving the bo staff swiftly in defense, but he'd managed to inflict more damage than was inteneded. The fight continued, and in a matter of minutes, the rest of their foes were vanquished.

"Our first major skirmish was over and we were still standing. Our training had served us well...Splinter would be pleased. The police arrived to find only what was left of the Purple Dragon Gang. We do not like to run from those who would be our allies, but they would not understand us..."

"Chet, freeze program..."

As the scene around him came to a chilling hault, he couldn't help but remember the remorse and guilt that had gripped him after the battle. He'd killed someone. It was something he never thought he'd actually do. And even though Splinter had commended them for a job well done, he couldn't shake the feeling that it had all been wrong.

"I've killed a lot of people since then." Don sighed. "But that moment has always stuck with me. I've never liked hurting people, Chet, but for the first time that night, it was something I realized I had to do in order to survive."

* Leonardo's dialogue and the events depicted in the Turtle's first battle were taken from Mirage Studios, and the first issue of "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. TMNT #1 and all characters depicted are (c) of Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird, 1984.

Chapter Two

Nirvana

Fanfic Page

Index

Take me Home!