Chapter 30 - Love and Death

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"DONNIE!"

Hm?

Donatello shifted in his sleep, mumbling his Nobel Science Prize acceptance speech that had been recited at least 1,000,000 times.

"AH!!"

The purple masked turtle shot up, his eyes wide as Striker frantically shook him.

"I-it's (y/n), she tried to remove a tracking beacon and-"

Before Striker could even finish his sentence, Donnie had scrambled to his feet and snatched his bag.

"WHERE IS SHE??" He cried, desperation smothering his voice.

"I-in the lab."

In a flash, Donnie had ran out of his room and down the hall, his thoughts racing. He knew exactly what had happened. You had tried to remove the tracker, and more than likely it released a toxin of some sort in order to prevent its removal. He couldn't lose you. Not now. Not when you were so close to finally ridding the earth of the horrible mutagens and giving people their lives back. Not when he could almost taste some form of normalcy with you.

Down the hall. Through the living room.

My God why did they live in such a big house! It's underground for shell's sake!

(Y/N)!!

(Y/N)!!

His voice was hoarse as he cried out, bursting into the lab. For a split second, he froze at the sight he saw.

There you were, skin pale and lips blue, lying lifeless on the floor. A small pool of blood surrounded your arm that rested on the steel table.

"No. No no no no no no (Y/N)!!" He screamed out again, an uncontrollable sob escaping his mouth as he ran over to your side. He couldn't lose you, not now! But what could he do?! What was the toxin used?? Cyanide? No, that would be too lethal to the patient. The point was to keep the tracker inside the body, not kill you. Radon? Not likely, not potent or fast acting.

"COME ON DONNIE THINK!"

Arsenic.

That's it.

It's just like Shredder.

"A-arsenic!" Donatello quickly ripped open his bag and begin pulling out a syringe, his hands slightly shaking and vision blurry. He couldn't think straight.

"STRIKER!"
Striker ran up to the Donnie, out of breath. "I—I'm here!"

"Go to the cabinet and get a bottle that says EDTA and give me your belt."

He nodded and quickly undid his belt, throwing it onto the table before running back to the wall. Striker then flung open the cabinet and began rummaging through the several glass bottles.

Donnie turned back to you, working through salty tears that threatened to spill as he quickly wrapped the belt around your damaged arm.

"I'm sorry if this hurts," he mumbled as he tightened the belt and began preparing an needle.

A soft moan escaped your lips.

Despite his frantic state, hearing even just a sound from your mouth gave Donatello enough hope to keep going.

"STRIKER! I need that EDTA now!"

"I-I'm coming!"

He ran over, the bottle clutched in his rough hand.

Donatello quickly took the EDTA and pulled some into the prepared syringe. He then took your unharmed arm and slid the cold needle through your skin and into a vein.

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