Chapter 17 - You're Needed Here Now, Donnie

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*Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.

*Author's Notes: Here's chapter 17 of 'You're Needed Here Now, Donnie' and I think it's the chapter that most of you have been waiting for . . . =}    

Thank you so much to everyone who has taken the time to read and comment on my stories and to those who are following me. I really appreciate all of the support that everyone has given me. I truly hope that you are enjoying what I have written. Thanks, again, for reading! ;) CJ

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Chapter 17 - You're Needed Here Now, Donnie

Pitch black was being infiltrated by scattered spates of light, gradually breaking up the all-encompassing darkness that oblivion had brought. Random thoughts began to fill the void that had been dormant for so long, falling into place as if they were carefree leaves gliding on a gentle breeze. Little by little, this tangle of thoughts became more and more focused, until finally, an extraordinary mind was functional once again.

Ugh . . . Did somebody get the name of that bus? The now-coherent turtle mentally groaned.

The first thing that Donatello noticed after his intelligence had been restored was that his brain seemed to be the only part of him that was fully operational. The rest of him was clearly struggling to catch up. The second thing that he noticed was that there were faint voices wafting all around him, swirling all about like billowy clouds that were just beyond his reach. The next thing that he noticed was that his eyes would not open, no matter how hard he tried to pry them apart. It was as if someone had crazy glued them shut, which he certainly would not have put past his prankster baby brother.

Mikey didn't dub himself 'Dr. Prankenstein' for nothing.

While Donatello waited for the rest of his body to start working again, he concentrated on the voices surrounding him. The sound quality of the voices was poor at best, muffled and distorted, like someone was speaking to him from another room while tightly covering their mouth. No . . . perhaps it sounded more like they were talking underwater, but even in his sensory impaired state, he knew there wasn't much likelihood of that being the case here. Especially knowing that speech requires air in both the lungs and larynx in order to produce the energy necessary to generate sound. Air that one could not acquire if fully submersed in water or any other kind of liquid, for that matter. The voice box did not function very well without oxygen. Everyone knew that.

Well, maybe not everyone . . .

Now that he had ruled out the underwater possibility –

No! Wait, wait . . .

Okay . . . he hadn't totally ruled it out just yet. There were still too many variables in the equation. He had to deliberate over it for just a little bit longer in order to satisfy his insatiable curiosity.

It could be that whoever is trying to talk to me could possibly be communicating through an underwater breathing apparatus, he thought, but quickly dismissed the idea for the simple reason that it was ludicrous. If someone would have been speaking to him underwater and he was able to hear it, that would most likely mean that he, too, was underwater and he was almost positive that he would be able to tell if he was immersed in fluid. The fact that he was able to inhale and exhale perfectly fine was substantiating proof of that, because the last time that he had checked, he hadn't been able to breathe so well underwater. Contrary to popular belief, he knew that not all species of turtles can actually breathe underwater. Hence, the reason that he had nearly drowned in a sewer pool when he was five years old. That was one experiment that certainly did not bear repeating.

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