An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
CHAPTER 9/18?
FANDOM: ROTTMNT
SUMMARY:
Donnie suffers in silence after the Krang invasion. That’s not unique. Everyone in the Hamato clan is struggling. But Donnie’s a problem solver, and a dangerous obsession, a new invention, and spiralling sanity threaten to alienate him from his family for good.
!! GENERAL CONTENT WARNING !!
- This story contains an overall theme of self-harm through dangerous actions and self-experimentation. Since it has an overall presence throughout the whole narrative, please consult the tags on AO3 to know what to expect. If this subject matter bothers you, please take care of yourself and read responsibly!
- Likewise, there will repeated moments of gore and medical procedures.
---
Leo did not look good. His skin was swallow with a greyish undertone, and he had dark, sunken eye sockets.
“Go to bed,” said Donnie.
“Why, so you can run away when I’m not looking?” Leo snapped back.
He tried to trip Donnie with his crutches when he hobbled inside.
“For the record, you were always my least favourite brother,” said Leo. He slammed the bathroom door shut.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
CHAPTER 11/18?
FANDOM: ROTTMNT
SUMMARY:
Donnie suffers in silence after the Krang invasion. That’s not unique. Everyone in the Hamato clan is struggling. But Donnie’s a problem solver, and a dangerous obsession, a new invention, and spiralling sanity threaten to alienate him from his family for good.
!! GENERAL CONTENT WARNING !!
- This story contains an overall theme of self-harm through dangerous actions and self-experimentation. Since it has an overall presence throughout the whole narrative, please consult the tags on AO3 to know what to expect. If this subject matter bothers you, please take care of yourself and read responsibly!
- Likewise, there will repeated moments of gore and medical procedures.
---
“Raph?” Donnie said, quiet.
Their bathroom wasn’t very big, and Leo’s body was awkwardly propped up between the sink and the door. Donnie pulled Leo halfway into his lap and wrenched the door partway open with his ankle.
Donnie sucked air into his lungs and screamed, “RAPH!”
Catatonia || Donnie
Donnie meets the right mutant, at the right time.
FANDOM: ROTTMNT
Also on AO3
@badthingshappenbingo
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The ground disappeared beneath Donatello and he had a momentary sense of falling down, down, down, straight to the centre of the Earth where molten rock would consume him. Memories flashed around him. Swarms of humans and hands. Being held by his brothers in the dark of a cell. A heat that didn’t give away. He thought about the possibility that he hadn’t left the cell, but his heart thrummed loudly in his chest, and he knew he didn’t have the luxury of death no matter how much he preferred it to torture.
He hit the ground in a heap. It wasn’t hard like he expected, nor was he instantly liquefied. No, it was sodden and muddy. His mouth filled with dirt and muck, and Donnie rolled onto his back up towards a circle of light far above, with a few human faces looking down on it.
“This seems like a waste of resources,” said a human.
“We don’t get paid enough to think,” said another. “Hey, want to get lunch later? I’ve been dying for Subway all week.”
“You really need to quit eating that garbage.”
The circle of light closed, and darkness swarmed over him.
Donnie’s survival instincts kept him alert, but fear paralyzed him. He wrung his hands into the muddy earth and scanned his surroundings, lit by sparse overhead lights that didn’t reach every corner. The smell was terrible: swampy and humid. He sat on a raised island in the centre of the room, surrounded by a doughnut-shaped ring of murky water, and steep, uneven land on the other side. It was about the same size as a school gymnasium, with a tall roof and a steady drip-drip-drip of water that filled the silence. If the ground hadn’t been so soft, the fall from above could’ve easily killed him.
Where was Leo? Mikey? Raph?
Donnie felt like he was going crazy. He couldn’t even be sure if they existed anymore, if he was just some experiment concocted by the humans who’d imagined a family to cope with the trauma.
He felt as though he might die there, kneeling in the mud.
If it hadn’t been for the water moving.
Donnie whipped around towards the noise. He saw the ripples in the water long before he saw the thing that was making them. The water was so cloudy that it looked almost solid. The ripples gave it away. Donnie’s heart lunged into his throat.
The thing rose out of the depths like something from a campy horror movie. And it was huge. Large shoulders. Gnashing teeth. Covered in swamp debris and mud and who-knows-what-else. It climbed the slight slope of the island on all fours.
The thing opened its mouth and said, “Hello, I am—”
Donnie grabbed some mud and hurled it.
The mud wad landed squarely in the thing’s beady yellow eyes.
Donnie only knew he was screaming because deafening echoes bounced off of the chamber walls, horrible and cracked. It was impossible to run. Even if he had anywhere to run to, the earth was too soft to get a proper foothold, and he sank ankle-deep into it.
Donnie skidded down to the water’s edge and dove in. He couldn’t see anything in front of him, but neither could the creature, and that evened the playing field.
He didn’t know how deep he swam, but he reached the bottom and felt around blindly for something to give him more cover. He clawed at nothing except mud and more water, and panic came in a hard wave that made him thrash around as if he were at risk of drowning.
Donnie’s head slammed into something solid. Something metal, solid, and curved. A pipe of some sort. Donnie couldn’t feel an opening, but the earth was soft enough underneath that he could claw out something to push himself into.
It was a tight squeeze, pressed between the pipe and earth, but that thing was blind in the water too, and it would have to do a lot of digging to pull him out. Finally secure, Donnie tried to calm his terror.
He stayed there at the bottom of the water, in total darkness, for a long time. He didn’t move. Without light, he didn’t have a sense of how long it was. Donnie listened to the movement of the water, listening for any sounds of the thing swimming past, but all of it had stopped the moment he dove into it. His senses felt heightened with fear.
The nothingness continued. Donnie listened to the water swarming in his ears. It was so long that he felt as though reality was getting further and further away from him. Softshell turtles in the wild spent almost their whole lives loitering at the bottom of muddy waters, but Donnie had just enough human in him that he couldn't stand the extended isolation. Periodically, he slipped into a flat nothingness that left him frozen. He couldn’t even feel afraid anymore, just nothing.
His brothers weren’t here, and he didn’t know where they were or what had happened to them, or what had led to this moment. The black space between his racing thoughts grew larger and larger. It left him feeling like he’d buried himself under the pipe to make it easier for the people who were going to dig his grave.
The darkness at the bottom of the pond was maddening. He had to know what was out there.
In one of the small, fleeting moments of awareness, Donnie pulled himself out from under the pipe, desperate for just a gulp of air, and to get a sense of where the monster was. Even a fleeting bit of pain would be better than experiencing nothing for all eternity.
Donnie rose to the surface slowly, careful not to ripple the water as he poked his head out. The thing sat atop the island as if it were in a waiting room. Although Donnie had been careful not to make any noise, it swung its head around as though he had blasted an air horn.
The island had enough light cast on it that Donnie could get a clear look at what it was. It was a massive crocodile—no; it was an alligator. Bipedal, tall enough to dwarf Raph, and glowing yellow eyes that had a sense of intelligence that most alligators lacked.
“I do not eat things with sentience,” said the alligator. “Not unless I am very, very angry at least.”
Donatello ducked back under the surface and swam back to the safety of the pipe. He’d lost track of it during his ascent, and it took a while to find it again. When he did, he squashed himself back into the pit he’d made underneath.
His awareness faded away in a flash. It took him a while again to refocus, trying to remember long-forgotten coping techniques to steady himself. Donnie couldn’t take deep breaths underwater, but he counted backwards from a hundred and tried to think straight.
Many, many mutants and yōkai had tried to kill him and his brothers. Some had pretended to be friends, others had been hostile outright, and he didn’t know if this one was friend or foe.
He couldn’t stay under here forever.
It was a calculated risk, one that Donnie had to psych himself up to. He ascended a second time and found that the alligator hadn’t moved. He was picking something out of his teeth.
“I hope you know I use that body of water as my lavatory,” said the alligator. “You are swimming in my diluted waste products.”
Now that was true terror. Donnie scrambled out on the other side of the pond’s bank, shaking as much of the water off as he could. He retreated until his shell pressed back against the far wall, which was moist with humid and covered with plant life and moss.
The alligator didn’t pursue him. Adrenaline ebbed off, and Donnie realized he had no strength in his legs. They folded beneath him. The two of them stared at each other, neither speaking.
Being above water was better than being beneath it. Out here, he could feel the air and breathe and see. He could dig his nails into his flesh, and the humid air stung it. His vision was only dark around the edges instead of being consumed by it.
“I am Leatherhead,” said the alligator.
Donnie raised his head.
“It is similar to ‘Leatherback,’ but I am not a turtle.”
The alligator said it with complete sincerity, as if Donnie wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between an alligator and a turtle. Leatherhead had a rigid, stilted way of speaking, like he had to think carefully about what he was saying before he said it.
Leatherhead moved slow. Donnie had the instinct to run, even to dive back into the contaminated water, but he couldn’t move. His body wasn’t cooperating, and he was helpless to do anything but watch as Leatherhead advanced towards him.
Leatherhead stopped at the bottom of the embankment. He held out a crinkled bag of potato chips.
“Do you like the chips?” Leatherhead asked. “They are made of a root vegetable referred to as ‘solanum tuberosum.’”
There was a loud clank. Donnie realized Leatherhead was wearing a large collar attached to a heavy chain that dragged behind him. Attached to the wall somewhere in the dark on the other side of the room, it was only just long enough to get to the place where Leatherhead stood.
Effectively, Donnie was safe, so long as he stood where the rope didn’t reach.
Leatherhead placed the chips on the embankment, well out of the water, and went back to sit on the island a safe distance away. Donnie didn’t feel hungry at all, though he knew it had been a long time since he’d eaten.
They both stayed quiet. Leatherhead seemed to wait for Donnie to do something aside from sit there. Donnie waited for himself to do that too. People—well, yōkai and mutants—were often afraid of Raph because of his size and fearsome appearance, not realizing just how gentle he truly was. Donnie wasn’t the best at getting a read on others, but Leatherhead displayed no outward signs of aggression. No gnashing teeth. No flailing. Even his movements were lumbering and predictable.
But Donnie’s body froze over, and he didn’t want to thaw out for spring.
-
Nothing. There was nothing. He was nothing.
He was a nothing thing trapped in a nothing body in a nothing world. Donnie became a statue, become nothing. He was a being of stone, never having a will of his own.
The nothing retreated and his eyes were wide open, but his body cramped all over like he’d run a marathon. The body that didn’t feel like his gasped out some breaths, and there was a slight, surprised noise from the other side of the room. He blinked open his eyes to see the alligator—Leatherhead—opposite the chamber from him, on an outcrop of land. He was reading a goddamn book like he was in a library.
Donnie forced himself to stay in the present and focus. His legs wobbled dangerously underneath him when he scrambled to his feet as the fight-or-flight instinct kicked back in.
“Interesting response to the solanum tuberosum potatoes,” said Leatherhead. “Are you allergic?”
Donnie squinted, feeling dazed. “…What?”
“Oh, you can speak? I was not sure.”
“Of course I can fucking—” Deep breaths, Donnie. “I…I need to…”
“There is no escape. I understand my appearance is…off-putting. I hope that eventually you will grow accustomed to it.”
Eventually. insinuating that this was going to be a forever situation. Just the thought made Donnie off-balance. He almost burst into tears right then and there, but he sucked in all the liquid in his body and instead wiped the thin layer of sweat over his brow.
“If you dislike the chips of potato, perhaps you would consume something else?” Leatherhead said.
Donnie grunted something noncommittal. His body hurt so much. There was a powerful pain in his abdomen that could’ve been hunger, could’ve been anxiety.
“The humans provide leftovers from a food distribution centre,” said Leatherhead. “Come and make a selection.”
Donnie wasn’t sure if he was in his right mind as his feet moved underneath him and into reach of Leatherhead’s chain. His balance was off, and he slipped across the muddy embankment, unable to keep his path straight. He couldn’t believe he was walking straight towards the massive ting. Maybe he was just too desensitized to things of Raph’s size.
But, hell, up close Leatherhead was bigger than Raph.
He didn’t have the strength to climb up the last embankment. Leatherhead reached down. His hand had thick, pink scars and track marks that were visible across his large scales. Donnie’s entire hand was only the size of his finger.
He felt Leatherhead’s powerful strength as he grabbed his hand and Leatherhead hauled him up the rest of the way, but he was remarkably gentle.
The strip of land appeared to be used as some kind of…living space, if it could be called that. Woven hay layered the ground to keep out the moisture, and makeshift bookshelves were built against the walls, filled with rows and rows of massive textbooks. Donnie scanned the titles. It was mostly scientific literature mixed with old encyclopedias.
When was the last time anyone sensible had read an encyclopedia?
Driftwood and logs were used to construct makeshift furniture. There was a table with some random bits and bobs of old laboratory equipment, and another set of shelves with food. Some of it looked like it had come from a vending machine, while the rest comprised table scraps, old coffee cups, and half-eaten sandwiches, fruits, and fast food.
Donnie felt overwhelmingly dizzy. He felt weak and weepy. His world was ending. His knees buckled, and Leatherhead steadied his fall to the ground.
“You appear weak,” said Leatherhead. “You need to eat and drink.”
“I don’t know if I can,” said Donnie.
“You will. Or else I will eat you.”
There was the joke. It was funny. Donnie almost laughed.
His world went black again, although he had no actual sense of being unconscious. He could still hear and smell, and had vague flashes of Leatherhead’s massive shadow intersecting the light.
Donnie came to lying on his side in a bed of clean hay. It was large enough to encompass Leatherhead, so he felt small and exposed in it. There was a pain in his arm, and when he shifted to look, he saw that a long line of tubing was sticking out of it.
“Where am I—” he started.
“Do not pull that out,” Leatherhead warned him sternly. He sounded close. “Those are fluids. I am trying to increase your hydration.”
Donnie tried to follow the IV line to see where it ended, but his vision was wobbly.
“I don’t know where I am,” Donnie said.
“You are in my cell, in a research facility,” said Leatherhead. “What is your name?”
Donnie didn’t know how to respond.
“Do you have one?”
“Yes,” he said. “Donatello.”
“Donatello,” Leatherhead repeated. “Do you sculpt?”
“No.” Donnie thought about his inventions, about his Battle Shell and his old tech-bō and the Turtle Tank and all the inventions in between. “Sort of.”
“Do you have any allergies?”
“No, I…I don’t think so…I don’t know…”
“Good.”
“Why?”
“I may need to give you medication later.”
“Medication—how do you have this stuff?”
“I have been down here for very, very, very long. I have acquired certain items during that time.”
“Are you a mutant? Were you human?”
“No. I was an alligator. Specifically, the species ‘alligator mississippiensis.’”
He was like the turtles. A regular animal turned into something else through the intervention of humans.
“Try to rest. We can exchange information when you are more coherent.”
-
Awake, but not all the way.
Cold, but warm.
Dead, but with a pulse.
Donnie lay half on his side, picking at dried hay. A threadbare blanket wrapped around his body, and his arm ached from the makeshift IV lodged in his veins. He rolled a strand of hay between his fingers until the fibre crackled and broke, leaving only thin threads.
Heavy weights were crushing him, keeping him impossibly still. He let out faint, panicked cries that were quickly hushed, and he clung to the source of comfort in the absence of his brothers.
He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be vulnerable. But he was.
“I will not proceed with physical contact unless strictly necessary.”
“Please don’t touch me. Please. I don’t want to…”
“I will not touch you unless your current condition necessitates it.”
Donnie let out a miserable cry trying to force his body to move. He couldn’t even open his eyes.
“Who is Kendra?”
Donnie’s chest spasmed. It was Leatherhead at his bedside. Leatherhead, who could’ve eaten him, but didn’t, who had saved his life instead of ending it.
“A monster,” Donnie said.
“I am familiar with the concept of monsters,” said Leatherhead. “This facility is full of those who see our existence as strictly beneficial to them, violating our bodily autonomy for their own gain. In a metaphorical sense, I am a monster myself.”
“…No, you’re not. You’re not a monster.”
Leatherhead let out a low, rumbling hum that went straight to Donnie’s core. “That is a sentiment with positive connotations. But I have killed before, and I will kill again.”
“You haven’t killed me.”
“For now, I am in control of myself. I hope I will stay that way.”
“You’re not a monster to me.”
“…Thank you, Donatello. May I initiate physical contact? My understanding is that the holding of hands is a comforting gesture, and I would like to do so.”
It helped that Leatherhead was so explicit about it.
“Yes,” said Donnie.
Leatherhead’s massive hand was so gentle when it squeezed his.
“I want my brothers,” Donnie said.
“Family connections are highly valued, so that is understandable,” said Leatherhead. “Shall I humour you, or would you like me to provide an accurate assessment of the current situation?”
“…An accurate assessment.”
“My calculations predict an exceptionally low chance of seeing them again.”
Donnie’s ribcage tightened like corset laces. He let out a strangled, faint cry.
“What are the odds?” Donnie asked.
“Approximately 4.82%.”
“…I believe in them…”
They had beaten the odds before.
They could do it again.
And this was all he had left.
“I believe in them,” Donnie reiterated. “I believe in them…”
“The odds are never zero, Donatello,” said Leatherhead. “Simply unlikely.”
“Thank you, Leatherhead…I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”
“You needn’t,” said Leatherhead. “But the sentiment is appreciated.”
They were here, and they were alone together.
And, hopefully, a rescue would come for them soon.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
This is my piece for the @turtlestogetherzine! A cool zine where I had the honour of working alongside a LOT of talented creators and we made some cool things! I wrote a piece about The TMNT 2003 episode 'Same as it Never Was.' It's mostly Don & Raph focused but the other brothers are there too!
Thank you to everyone who worked on this zine for being amazing and doing amazing things!
Make an Example of Them | Umbra, Part I - Kai
Mysterious assailants hold the ninja prisoner. Kai becomes the example.
FANDOM: Ninjago
Also on AO3
@badthingshappenbingo
<< PREVIOUS || NEXT >>
What was the cliché? ‘It should’ve been a simple mission?’
Kai couldn’t count the number of times they’d gone on a ‘simple mission’ and had it turned into a complicated one. He couldn’t count the number of enemies they’d faced, the godlike beings they’d tangled with, the supernatural shenanigans that had come their way. But for the first time, he started to consider that maybe the ones who would kill him were ordinary humans.
He didn’t know if it was a cult or LARPers, though it very easily could’ve been both. LARPers so good that they easily emulated the skills of any well-trained ninja, clad in black, invisible except for when the light hit them just so. Even the smallest shadow seemed large enough to conceal them, and that had been the crux of the issue when they’d gotten caught. Kai could count the number of ways they might’ve been able to defeat them. Maybe if they’d had forewarning, and maybe if they’d been altogether at once. But instead, the LARPers had taken them down one-by-one. Lloyd first, because he was the heart of their team. Cole next, because he was the strongest. Then Nya, Zane, and Jay. Kai had been last. Fumbling in the dark.
He hadn’t even known that there was trouble until he’d gotten grabbed from behind and dragged into the shadows.
He was thinking about all the ways Master Wu was going to lecture them as he was dragged through what could only be described as a dungeon. The LARPers hadn’t even given him the choice to walk. He was dragged by his ankle, passing underneath scant lights overhead. His captors were only visible when they passed underneath them, and then they disappeared. Like light switches turning on and off.
“Y’know, I got a hot date starting pretty soon,” Kai said loudly. “You better not make me miss it.”
The LARPers didn’t answer him. They hauled him to a cell door and dragged him in.
“Kai!” Nya’s voice cried out.
Kai didn’t get a chance to answer when a shackle clamped around his ankle and all the warmth inside of him suddenly drained out like someone dumping icy water on a campfire. The chill ran all the way up his spine and settled in the base of his skull, throwing him off-centre.
“Ah, the ol’ ‘Chain the Ninja Up With Vengestone’ trick,” said Kai. “Y’know who uses that? Ninjas who didn’t get hugged enough by their mothers.”
One of the LARPers kicked him in the side. It stung, but mostly it just kicked out the strained laugh stuck in his throat.
And just like that, the LARPers were gone, and the chill in the room was more pronounced. Kai sat up, rubbing his now-bruised side. The room was something out of a medieval torture dungeon. The walls were made of chiselled black stone, and the rough, rocky flooring was uncomfortable to sit on. Cole, Lloyd, Jay, and Nya were chained up along the far wall, side-by-side. Their hands were free, but that was fundamentally useless when vengestone was involved. Kai was chained up to a wall further from them, closer to the door.
He resented the distance almost at once. Lloyd was unconscious.
His eyes had yet to adjust to the darkness, but he would recognize the smattering of blood on his face anywhere. Cole had him cradled in his lap. Jay and Nya were held back by their own chains. Instead, they wore their worry plain on their face. He hadn’t seen Nya look as tense as she did in that moment in a long time.
“What happened to Lloyd?” Kai asked.
“What do you think happened?” Jay snapped back. “I said to watch your backs, but no! No one ever listens to me.”
“I was watching my back,” said Cole. “It was my front that they attacked.”
“That’s no better!”
“Guys, will you stop already?” Nya barked. “How’s Lloyd doing?”
Cole pressed two fingers to his neck. “His pulse is steady. He’s clammy, though. It’s fucking freezing in here.”
Kai didn’t even think twice. He shucked off his gi and threw it to Cole. He was wearing only a black tank top underneath.
“What are you doing?” Cole asked.
“Relax, I’m hot-blooded,” said Kai, “and you need to keep him warm. He’s probably in shock.”
“Not with that vengestone you aren’t.”
“Uh, half of Lloyd’s brain is hanging outside his head. I think that takes precedence.”
Jay made a gagging sound. “Don’t word it like that!”
“What? I can practically see the jiggly pink parts.”
Jay gagged again.
“It’s just a fractured skull,” said Cole. “Lloyd’s gonna be fine.”
“Where’s Zane?” Kai asked.
“Not sure,” Nya said. There was a subtle wobble in her face, undetectable to the others, but deafening to Kai. “They took him somewhere else.”
‘Who’s ‘they?’”
“I don’t know, Kai! I didn’t have time to play twenty questions in between them dribbling Lloyd’s head against the ground!”
Kai’s gaze rested on Lloyd as Cole dabbed away at the blood with the gi. Well. It was up to him.
He pulled himself up and yanked on his chain. Even fully extended, it wasn’t long enough to reach Lloyd and the others on the far wall. However, it was just barely long enough to reach the door.
It was a design flaw, for sure, but one he wasn’t going to complain about. The window was small and barred, and enough for him to stick his face right up against it.
The hallway outside was almost in complete darkness, and he saw no one there.
“HEY!” Kai shouted. “HELLO? Get your asses over here! I need to talk to the guy in charge! Or girl. Or somewhere in between. Um, HELLO?!”
“That’s not gonna work, Kai,” said Nya.
Kai ignored her and rattled the bars, but the hallway was silent.
The mass in his stomach felt dense with anxiety.
-
Kai made a nuisance of himself for hours, and when he got tired of yelling and screaming for someone to come, he settled for rattling the bars and just making a general racket. Meanwhile, Lloyd bled and bled and bled and did not wake up, and there was no sign of Zane anywhere.
In between Kai going to the door and shouting for someone to come pay attention to them already, they speculated on who their captors were.
“So, ninja wearing black, who are not serpentine, ghosts, pirates, or jaywalkers,” said Kai, listing off the possibilities on his finger.
“Of course they’re not me,” said Jay. “Do I look like I can clone myself?”
“No, I mean they’re jaywalkers.”
“No, they’re NOT!”
“Haven’t you ever heard the term ‘jaywalker’ before?”
“Yeah, it’s my name!”
“A jaywalker is someone who crosses the street at any place outside of a crosswalk,” Cole said.
“I don’t do that!” Jay protested. “I follow traffic laws!”
“Jay, your stupid is showing.”
“I’ll show you stupid!”
“The point is, that we don’t have the slightest idea who these guys are,” said Nya. “Does that sum it up?”
“Pretty much,” said Cole. “Didn’t recognize the emblem on their gi, but they all have the same one, so I’m guessing they’re part of the same clan or organization or whatever.”
“I hope Master Wu finds us soon so we can ask him,” said Nya.
A metallic click of the lock caused Kai to startle back from the door.
Like ghosts, three of strange ninja entered, their footsteps completely silent. They scanned them all, one-at-a-time.
One pointed at Kai.
“HA!” Kai said, grinning at Nya. “They picked me and not you!”
“I don’t think that’s a good thing, Kai,” said Nya.
“Don’t worry, I’ll sort it out with these guys. You guys just hang out.”
“You think we have a choice?” Cole said.
“Kai, what are you doing?” Nya snapped. “This isn’t funny!”
“You’re right, it’s not. Don’t worry about it. I’ll sort it all out with the big boss.”
“KAI!”
The cell door slammed behind them, but he heard Nya calling for him all the way to the end of the hall.
Kai scanned his two assailants, and wiggled his eyebrows at the girl. He was calculating the moves he’d need to take to incapacitate both of them at the same time. “So…am I getting dinner and a show?”
“Do not resist, or your fellow ninja die,” she said.
“Wow. Dramatic.”
There was barely any time to discuss anything when he was shoved into another room, more open than the cell, and much colder.
Kai realized why it was colder. Zane was restrained on a table.
“Hey, Zane!” Kai said. “How’s it going?”
“It could be going better,” said Zane.
“Are these friends of yours?”
“…I do not know them.”
“Right, right. Any idea who they are? They’re the strong, silent type.”
“I do not.”
“Can’t you do a—”
“Kai!”
THWACK.
The blow hit Kai in the back of his neck and he went down hard.
He didn’t know how long he lay on the cold ground. He felt frozen. The hair up and down his arms stood on end, and Kai realized he was panting heavily into the earth, and it was the only noise he could hear. The pain in his neck was tremendous. He wondered if he’d broken it, so he curled his toes and fingers to make sure he could still move them.
Kai forgot everything. Why he was here. That he was the Red Ninja. There was only profound pain rippling up and down his spine.
“Kai. Do not move. You are injured.”
It was Zane’s voice. It had been a long time since Kai had sound him as afraid as he did.
There was little risk of Kai moving. He couldn’t. He could only lie there, and wonder how he’d ended up there.
He pried open an eye. There was blood dripping down his forehead and into his eye from an injury he couldn’t remember getting, and a set of feet by his head.
“Tell us the codes,” said the owner of the feet. “Or he’s the example.”
Kai looked up, his vision fuzzy. Zane was lying on a table, but he couldn’t remember how he’d come to lie there.
“…I cannot help you,” said Zane.
“You possess the means to access the Ninjago City Police database. Give us the codes.”
“Why do you wish to possess them?”
“Information. Will you comply?”
“That information is sensitive. You could potentially use it to harm others.”
“Potentially. Yet there are five other ninja aside from yourself here. Five ninja that we can set an example with.”
Kai heard the words, he was wearing them, they were going into his head, but he couldn’t understand them despite his best efforts. The best he could do was to try to tell Zane he was okay.
“Zane,” Kai droned out. Zane looked at him with a haunted stare.
“…I…cannot,” said Zane. “Torture me if you must, but leave him alone.”
“This is not a negotiation,” Kai’s attacker replied.
“Wait, no! I will tell you.”
“You had your chance. Now you learn the consequences.”
------
Down the hall, Nya leaned back against the wall, eyes closed, trying to think calm thoughts. Kai was strong. Stronger than all of them combined. He was going to be fine, and soon, Master Wu would show up and get them out of their problems.
She felt so certain that he was going to swoop in, that when Kai screamed, Nya almost screamed herself. Her hands flew over her ears, and she looked around at the others, and they all looked, horrified, back at her and at each other and at the door like Kai’s face would show up in the window to say ‘Psych! Got you all!’
Kai had never screamed like that before.
It was one, long terrible scream. And then it was quiet.
A ripping sensation tore apart Nya’s chest. She fumbled for Jay’s hand and crushed his fingers. Jay held back, large eyes terrified and shining in the darkness, and she hoped against hope that Kai had stopped screaming because he’d passed out, and not because he was no longer alive.
Hogtied | Umbra, Part II - Kai
Kai wakes up after the last one in a very uncomfortable position.
FANDOM: Ninjago
Also on AO3
@badthingshappenbingo
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His ears were ringing.
Kai blinked to clear away the black spots in his vision. The first thing he noticed, before his vision came back, was the excruciating pain in his joints and feet, and he started to shift, and the pain became white-hot, beyond even his tolerance.
He must’ve done something, made a noise, twitched, cried out, screamed, maybe. Kai couldn’t be sure when his thoughts were so cloudy. What he did know was he heard Zane’s voice, tight with alarm.
“Kai, do not move,” Zane said. “You’re injured.”
Kai groaned. “Z—Zane?”
“Yes. Do not move. I am not in a position where I can help you.”
Despite the insistence that he not move, Kai shifted his arms to test his mobility, and there was the lance of pain again, the one that made him grunt. His arms and legs were twisted up behind him.
He wondered if the assholes who’d taken them had broken all his limbs.
He cracked open his left eye, then his right. He was on his side on the ground, looking up to where Zane was strapped to a table.
“What…What happened?” Kai asked breathlessly.
“They…injured your feet,” said Zane. “You’re restrained in what appears to be a very uncomfortable position.”
His feet were aching, quite a bit more than his limbs, however when everything hurt, it was harder to get a sense of what the source was.
“I’m too good for the table, huh?” Kai managed to say.
“You were resisting.”
Kai shifted his arms and legs. Nothing. He couldn’t move them. The most he could do was flex his fingers, and he felt that they were up close to his feet.
“Did they fucking hogtie me?!” Kai complained.
“I believe that is the technical term, yes,” said Zane. “You have a head injury. Please try to conserve your energy and refrain from moving.”
“’Kay. Can’t believe they didn’t buy me dinner first…”
Kai didn’t feel he had much of a choice in the matter. The floor felt cool, however rough under his cheek.
“Where’s everyone else?” Kai asked.
“Elsewhere, and hopefully unharmed. They were only useful to them insofar as to have leverage over me, I’m afraid. Now that they have what they want, they have no further reason to harm you or them…Hopefully.”
“That’s a lot of hopefuls.”
“Yes, it is. Try to rest. I am…brainstorming solutions.”
“Anything so far?”
“None yet. Do you have any recommendations?”
“M’not the plan guy, I’m the ‘fly by the seat of your pants’ guy.”
“That assessment is consistent with your previous patterns of behaviour, although may I point out that you do come up with very affective plans when the situation calls for it.”
“Okay. Well, don’t expect a half-assed plan from me this time.”
“Noted. Please try to rest, as best as you are able to.”
It wasn’t so much ‘resting’ as ‘falling unconscious from the pain.’
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
CHAPTER 9/18?
FANDOM: ROTTMNT
SUMMARY:
Donnie suffers in silence after the Krang invasion. That’s not unique. Everyone in the Hamato clan is struggling. But Donnie’s a problem solver, and a dangerous obsession, a new invention, and spiralling sanity threaten to alienate him from his family for good.
!! GENERAL CONTENT WARNING !!
- This story contains an overall theme of self-harm through dangerous actions and self-experimentation. Since it has an overall presence throughout the whole narrative, please consult the tags on AO3 to know what to expect. If this subject matter bothers you, please take care of yourself and read responsibly!
- Likewise, there will repeated moments of gore and medical procedures.
---
“That’s where you’re wrong. I know you, Master Don--”
“Will you stop calling me that? I’m not your master! I’m just Donnie.”
Casey took a steadying breath. “Donnie.” He tried out the name, wrapped it around his tongue like it was a pair of shoes he was trying to break in. He went on, “I know you, Donnie. I might be a stranger to you, but you’re not a stranger to me."
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
CHAPTER 7/15
FANDOM: ROTTMNT
SUMMARY:
Donnie suffers in silence after the Krang invasion. That’s not unique. Everyone in the Hamato clan is struggling. But Donnie’s a problem solver, and a dangerous obsession, a new invention, and spiralling sanity threaten to alienate him from his family for good.
!! GENERAL CONTENT WARNING !!
- This story contains an overall theme of self-harm through dangerous actions and self-experimentation. Since it has an overall presence throughout the whole narrative, please consult the tags on AO3 to know what to expect. If this subject matter bothers you, please take care of yourself and read responsibly!
- Likewise, there will repeated moments of gore and medical procedures.
----
Cassandra stood on the steps leading into the common room, arms bundled with gifts wrapped in baby blue wrapping paper. She had a balloon with ‘It’s a Boy!’ written on it in cursive, a stuffed bear holding a sword, and a miniature hockey stick. Her face had its usual constipated-angry curl, her chin thrust foward, eyes ballooned wide as they set their sights on Casey.
Donnie couldn’t quite place the look on her face—Cassandra had always been too difficult to read. She always looked some varying degree of royally pissed off, but very rarely was she ever actually pissed off. Her pissed-off look was actually just her default expression, and it made it hard to determine where she was going to take the mood of a room once she entered. When she saw Casey, her head cocked to the side and kept cocking until it was almost upside down. Her spine sure was flexible.
Casey was a little easier. He froze, hands clenching and unclenching at his side before raising to wave.
“Um, hi,” he said. “I’m—”
Cassandra threw the presents to the side, the balloon fluttering up to get caught in the rafters. She bolted and Casey took a step back, then she was right in his face and holding his jawline with both her hands.
“You…are the most BEAUTIFUL THING I’VE EVER SEEN!” Cassandra screamed.
She seized Casey into a bone-crunching hug. Literally. Donnie heard bones crunch.
“If anything happens to my son, I will KILL everyone in this room, raise them from the dead, and KILL THEM AGAIN!”
