Lost in the Fight

Chapter 34 - Sewer Bunnies!

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

*Author's Notes: Chapter 34 of 'Lost in the Fight' is here and this one is both suspenseful and funny.

Virtual hugs to everyone for reading, voting, and/or commenting on 'LITF.' Thank you all for always being so nice to me. *gives you cookies*

Well, I know everyone's eager to find out what Donnie's up to, so let's get right to it . . . ;) CJ

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Chapter 34 - Sewer Bunnies!

The lair was way too quiet, as it usually was whenever his brothers went out on patrol for the evening. Without tornadic Mikey goofing off, unhinged Raph snapping at everyone in his path, and overbearing Leo chewing Raph out for his 'insanely bad temper,' their home became unnervingly silent.

Patrol had become Donatello's least favorite part of the day . . .

While there were many times in the past that the genius turtle would've welcomed the temporary reprieve from the constant racket generated by his three brothers, he now had come to realize that he actually needed their background noise to help him concentrate. He had developed a newfound appreciation for their pandemonium. The hours that his brothers spent away from the lair combing the city for any suspicious activity were some of the most mind-numbing hours Donnie had ever endured. Sure, his father had been there with him every night, but Master Splinter wasn't exactly a night owl and he would spend most of the time in his room, either meditating or sleeping, while Donatello tooled around in the lab. By the end of the night, the brainiac turtle would get so bored out of his shell, he oftentimes found himself counting down the minutes until his brothers' return.

Such was not the case this particular night . . .

Well, Donnie was counting down all right, but it was an entirely different kind of countdown.

The genius turtle glanced at the clock display on his computer taskbar for at least the eleventh time in the past five-and-a-half minutes and finally saw the numbers he had been waiting for. It was nearly time for his brothers to 'phone' home.

Sliding open his top right desk drawer, Donnie pulled out a T-phone and set it down in front of him. Nervously wetting his lips, he mashed the center button towards the bottom of the phone to make sure it was still on.

The mobile device now gleaming up at him actually belonged to his father, but since Donatello's own T-phone had been destroyed by the self-destruct mechanism, the wounded turtle had been forced to borrow his father's phone until he was physically able to construct a new one. Of course, Master Splinter had been more than willing to give up his T-phone for the interim, since he wasn't real big on modern technology anyway. He much preferred using his cheese phone over the fancy device his intellectual son had given to him. Truth be told, the traditionalistic old rat had only accepted his son's offering out of the goodness of his heart.

Noticing the time on the phone, Donnie perked up in his seat and readied himself for the usual nightly ritual to commence.

Just like clockwork, the T-phone lying on his desktop started to vibrate and glow. Less than an instant later, an upbeat text tone sang out, temporarily disrupting the dreary quietness hanging over the lab.

It was the same routine around this time every night. One of his brothers would send him a quick text to check up on him.

Donnie eagerly peered down at the phone and read the message.