**TMNT Universal Fanfiction Competition 2016 Winner - Most In-Character Donatello (first place), Most In-Character Raphael (first place), Most In-Character Michelangelo (first place), Best Original Character (first place), Most Exciting Action/Adventure (first place), Most Intriguing AU (second place), and Most Intriguing Villain (third place)**

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

*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.'

Please favorite/follow/review 'LITF' if you like it. Thank you so much! ;) CJ

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.

Stay focused. The enemy is a Foot, he joked to himself, giggling silently over his bad pun.

Narrowing his eyes into a squint, he once again scanned the nearby buildings for anything out of the ordinary. There was nothing. While that was what he had thought he was hoping for, deep down inside, it made his stomach turn. The overthinking part of his brain couldn't help but to worry over the absence of commotion. It was, in fact, too quiet out there for his comfort and that only fueled his paranoia.

They all knew that the Foot was up to something. Their numbers were steadily increasing and they were getting more and more daring in their efforts, attacking at a far more frequent rate than normal. Just last week, they had even spotted a few of them lurking in the sewers during the daytime.

He let out a heavy, drawn-out breath and tightened his grip on his weapon, just as a precaution. He had always said that it was better to be safe than sorry.

While the lack of activity before him was rather unsettling, it was not nearly as unsettling as the sudden flurry of activity now going on only a few feet behind him.

He cranked his head back over his shoulder and rolled his eyes at the scene that had unfolded to the rear of him. He had been trying his best to block it out for several minutes now, pretending as though it wasn't happening. It had essentially been the mental equivalent of burying one's head in the sand.

Unfortunately, his brothers were growing harder and harder to tune out. He could hear their voices getting louder and he could feel the tension rising in the air.

He really preferred not to get involved in the matter, hoping that if he just ignored it, it might simply blow over. Hoping that nothing would come of it, but that was just wishful thinking on his part. He was smarter than that. A lot smarter than that . . .

He knew better.

Something always comes of it.

A fight was imminent.

So much for a night off . . .

The recent increase in engagement with their enemies had all of them on edge. Not that they weren't used to having to constantly watch their shells. After all, they were five-foot-plus talking mutant ninja turtles. They couldn't exactly stroll down the streets of New York without creating a citywide panic or going viral. Their rather peculiar reptilian condition forced them to always be on alert and exist in the shadows, hidden away from society as much as possible. They certainly didn't choose to live in the depths of the city sewers because it was a prime real estate location or a pleasant place to raise a family. And it definitely wasn't on account of the smell. They did so out of necessity. Their very survival depended on them staying out of sight since they weren't all that well-received by humanity. That and they were constantly being hunted by their enemies who wanted nothing more than to see them dead.

Yes, they had always lived on the edge, but lately, things were even more nerve-racking than normal. Shredder's following was growing exponentially and his elite's skills and weaponry were constantly evolving, forcing the small band of brothers to always speculate when their adversary might strike next. With their enemies potentially lurking around every corner and the budding threat that their foes might discover their hidden lair, the tension between the brothers was escalating to newfound heights. As a result, there was definitely dissension forming among the ranks.

It was no real secret that there had always been a great deal of friction between his two oldest brothers, but their oftentimes turbulent relationship had been driven to the brink by the added pressure. The two of them were now at each other's throats more often than not and it was starting to affect everyone's behavior.

"I'm so sick and tired of hearing your self-righteous crap, Fearless!"

"Is that so? Well, I'm sick and tired of wasting my time and my breath trying to get you to stop being so reckless! Your irrational behavior keeps putting us all in danger, Raph!"

"Oh, like you're so freakin' perfect, Splinter Junior! Pinning all of our problems on me just because I don't follow your orders like a good little soldier! Quit pushing me, Leo!"

"Or what, Raph? You'll hurt me? I'd like to see you try."

"Don't tempt me. So help me, I'll make you regret it."

"The only thing I regret is letting you do this to our family for so long."

Hamato Donatello sighed as he watched his older brothers' tempers flare yet again. They both had that standoffish gleam in their eyes. It was only a matter of time before one of them went after the other, and then, the brawl would be on. It would be the third one this week.

Offhand, Donatello could think of at least one hundred twenty-seven more constructive things that he could be doing right now instead of being subjected to witnessing this kind of barbaric behavior. He had dozens of unfinished projects waiting for him back in his lab that certainly weren't going to finish themselves while he was out. His to-do list was already unmanageable and it just kept growing.

Before they had headed out on patrol for the evening, he had just started to work on upgrading the GPS function on their T-phones like Leo had asked him to. Plus, he had been trying to find a way to increase the battery life on the phones, since they didn't always have the luxury of charging their mobile devices when they were on a mission. In addition to making improvements to their phones, he seriously needed to change the oil on the Shellraiser at some point. Oh and he was pretty sure that the serpentine belt also needed to be changed out soon. The last thing that they needed was for the drive belt to break when they were on one of their high-speed pursuits or escapes. His brothers would never let him live something like that down.

Well, only if we manage to survive the ordeal . . . Donnie mentally groaned before a bunch more things that he should be doing popped into his head. His overactive brain was doing an effective job of temporarily keeping his mind off of his two older brothers' bickering.

There were several upgrades to the lair's surveillance system that needed to be made. He hadn't had a chance to install the new security cameras and sensors that he had acquired yet. Then, there were some repairs that he still had to make on Raph's bike. Although he didn't necessarily consider this a critical task, his fear of his hotheaded brother hurting him for not doing it in a timely manner made it a top priority. He didn't want to get smacked upside the head for taking too long. Even if he was still suffering from the side effects of a concussion, he wasn't so sure that that would stop his most volatile brother from hitting him in the head.

As he winced over the thought of Raph slapping him, his brain just kept right on firing off things that he should have been working on. He remembered that he had promised his younger brother, Mikey, that he would fix the game system that his little brother had accidentally busted in the throes of a victory dance when he had beaten Raph at some stupid video game. Again, not really a critical thing, but Mikey had been whining about it for days now and he was starting to get on Donnie's already frayed nerves.

The volume level from behind Donatello seemed to be rising by several decibels with each passing second, making it suddenly impossible to concentrate on anything other than his two older brothers. His brain could no longer drown the noise out.

Ugh! Last I checked, we were supposed to be highly trained ninjas . . .

From what Donnie had gathered from the many teachings of his father, who just so happened to be a grand master of Ninjutsu, true ninjas were supposed to be calm in the face of danger, able to control their emotions in times of crisis. They were supposed to be stealthy and crafty, capable of adapting to any given situation. They were supposed to be virtually undetectable, like shadows in the night.

Somehow, screaming at someone at the top of one's lungs didn't seem all that ninja-like to him. His brothers were acting more like couple of Neanderthals than ninjas. And if they kept it up, they'd soon have the entire population of New York City descending upon them in addition to the Foot Clan. They may as well have put up a giant billboard that said 'We Are Here.'

Irritated beyond belief, Donatello looked back up at his brothers just in time to see Leo jab a foreboding finger into Raph's plastron.

Oh that is so not going to end well, Donnie thought, doing a facepalm.

Poking temperamental Raph in the chest was like pulling the pin out of a live grenade. An explosion of some sort was bound to follow.

A torrent of curse words poured out of Raphael that would have made even a hardened sailor blush. Raph was just lucky that Master Splinter wasn't around for the tirade. Their strict father wasn't real keen on the usage of foul language and the vile words that Raph had just uttered would have surely resulted in some sort of disciplinary action from the man who had raised them never to speak with disrespect.

Even level-headed and fearless Leonardo seemed momentarily taken aback by the onslaught of swearing. Either that or he was still trying to translate a few of the choice words that Raph had spewed forth. The turtle in red had even thrown in several Japanese expletives during his rant.

After a few deliberative moments, Leo then shifted into a defensive stance with his weapons at ready. Raph did the same, giving Leo his classic 'I dare you to come at me, bro' stare.

Five, four, three, two, one . . .

Donnie counted down in his head and his timing couldn't have been any more perfect. As soon as he finished the word 'one,' the fight was on.

Surprisingly, it was Leo who made the first move for once. A series of angry grunts and the sound of clashing weapons then followed. Mikey did his best to referee the grudge match, serving no actual purpose, but still trying to convince himself that he was somehow being useful.

Donatello just shook his head, not seeing a point in interfering in the skirmish. He wearily looked back over the edge of the building. It was then, from out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse something or someone moving down below. He peered over the side of the apartment complex that he was perched on, narrowing his reddish-brown gaze as he watched for any additional movement.

"Uh, guys . . . I think – " Donatello started, but was quickly cut off by Leo.

"Not now, Donnie," Leo growled, backing away from Raph for a brief moment. The oldest turtle held fast to his katanas as he caught his breath, preparing for the next round. All the while, he kept an intense glare fixed on his red-banded brother.

"Yeah, maybe you can go find an air conditioner on the fritz or something, Nerd Brain," Raph snarled, never once taking his eyes off of his opponent. His expression was that of pure malice as he arrogantly twirled his sais.

Against his better judgment, Donatello stood up and took a few guarded steps towards his two older brothers. He didn't want to get too close to them when they were like this. He had no desire to wind up collateral damage.

"Would you two please stop? There's some – " Donnie started, but was once again cut off mid-sentence.

"Stay out of this, Donatello! This has nothing to do with you!" Leo ordered, not the least bit interested in what his second youngest brother had to say at the moment. The oldest turtle could only focus on Raph. Leo wanted so badly to wipe that smug grin off of his immediate younger brother's face.

"Shut up, Brainiac! Nobody wants to hear it!" Raph roared coldly, not paying any attention to his genius brother, either. He assumed that Donnie was just trying to play mediator as usual. Trying to get everyone to get along and play nice in the same sandbox. Raph couldn't have cared less about his goody two shoes little brother's lame peacekeeping efforts right about now. He was too blinded by his uncontrollable rage.

The two oldest brothers then resumed their battle of the egos, completely ignoring Donnie's presence, as though he wasn't even there.

It's like I'm invisible . . . until they need something or I screw something up.

Donnie sighed and approached the ledge of the building once again. Someone had definitely been down there, but he had now lost sight of them. Whether or not it had been a Foot Soldier, he was not sure. There had only been one being down there as far as he could tell, so even if it was a Foot, it wasn't like he couldn't handle himself. Has was a ninja, after all.

He decided to check it out.

What he didn't realize at the time was that this one bad decision would turn out to be the biggest mistake of his life . . .

To be continued . . .

Author's Note: I really hope that you enjoyed the first chapter of 'Lost in the Fight.' If you did like it, please favorite/follow/review to let me know. As always, thank you very much for reading! ;) CJ