Chapter 1 - That Fateful Night

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

*Story Summary: After a near-death experience, Donatello is reprimanded by his older brothers for his actions, leaving him to question both his self-worth and his place in a family of more skilled ninjas. As a result, the turtles may find out what life would be like if they lost a brother.

*Special Note: The beautiful cover art for this story was drawn by my absolutely amazing friend, Flaux. The artwork is titled 'A little lost.'

*Author's Notes: Here is the first chapter of 'Lost in the Fight.' This story is the first Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle story that I ever wrote and it's still my favorite one that I have written so far. It is also the story that I loosely based 'You're Needed Here Now, Donnie' off of. Just so you know in advance, this story is extremely emotional and it contains some major brotherly angst. It is also a bit more violent than 'YNHND.' Donnie is going to be in for the fight of his life in this one. I don't want to give too much away, so let's just say that there's a reason the story is called 'Lost in the Fight.'

I am really hoping that you like this new story. Please let me know if you do. Thank you so much for reading! ;) CJ

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Chapter 1 - That Fateful Night

The New York City winds were particularly brutal this night, chilling him straight to the bone as he stood defenseless against them. He was presently hovering on the edge of a rooftop overlooking a dark alleyway as the frigid gusts continued to blow right through him, sending a shiver racing up and down his spine. Sometimes, being cold-blooded was a curse . . . especially this time of the year. The temperatures at night had taken a steady dive as of late. Granted, they weren't record-breaking lows by any means, but the evenings were noticeably cooler than normal. It was an unwelcome reminder that fall was indeed descending upon them all too soon. It almost felt like snow, which he was so not looking forward to.

He lowered himself into a crouched position, hoping to conserve some of his body heat as he examined the rooftops that outstretched before him. Nothing unusual or noteworthy registered in his field of vision. They had been on patrol for over an hour now and there were no signs of Foot Soldiers out and about, which came as a huge relief.

The Foot Clan, their archenemy Shredder's hoard of Ninjutsu lackeys, had been abnormally active over the past few months and he and his brothers were in desperate need of a night off from combat. Of course, his diehard brothers would never openly admit to that . . . always up for a good fight. He, on the other hand, was more than willing to admit that they needed a break. He couldn't remember the last time that they had returned home from patrol without at least one of them requiring some kind of medical treatment.

Just thinking about first aid suddenly reminded him that they were getting low on adhesive bandages in the infirmary. He made a quick mental note to stop and replenish a few of their medical supplies after patrol. A couple of items were definitely getting too low for his liking.

As if on cue, his head started to pound again, informing him that aspirin should probably go on that shopping list, too.

He gingerly rubbed his left temple where the worst of the throbbing was taking place. He was still dealing with the aftermath of a fairly nasty concussion from the week before, when a couple of enemies had gotten the drop on him while he had been attempting to hack into a mainframe. As a result of the blow to the head, his thoughts had been a little more distracted than usual. Hence the reason he was thinking about adhesive bandages rather than concentrating on patrol.

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