A/N: This little bunny came from a discussion with Midnight Heir. This takes place sometime between Outbreak and Insane in the Membrain of the 2003 cartoon. Special thanks to Askre for pointing out an error in the timeline. It has now been corrected.
Disclaimer: If I owned the ninja turtles, I would not be here writing fan fiction. I do not own the turtles or any associated characters or places. They are the property of Mirage Studios. I make no money from this and I mean no harm. Please do not sue.
Stuck
Donatello was alone. His brothers had gone out on a training run, but since he seemed to have picked up some sort of bug, Master Splinter had decided to keep him home this evening to rest. Of course, Don's idea of 'rest' and Master Splinter's idea of the same differed slightly. He had been told to go lay down and, technically, he was. While the turtle was, indeed, laying down, but he was not laying down on the soft bed or couch Master Splinter had intended.
Donatello lay on his back, on hard concrete, underneath an old moving van. The vehicle had never been designed to be a four-wheel drive rig, and Don wanted four-wheel drive. It was one feature that he was loath to give up as it had gotten them out of more than one slippery situation in the old Battle Shell. Most of the work had already been to toward that end, but there were a few smaller details that still required attention. While he really missed that old rig, which had been destroyed during Karai's invasion of their home, he was finding a place in his heart for the new one as it slowly came together. The vast majority of the work had already been done, resulting in the current and practically brand new chassis he now lay underneath. Since he wanted to keep this truck a secret from his brothers, he had solicited Casey and April's assistance. Most recently, that had been in lowering the body back onto the new chassis. Now there were just a few little details that remained under the rig to complete this portion of the project. It wouldn't be long before he could reveal the 'finished' product to his brothers.
Some little part of his mind wondered if he'd put the vehicle in park and set the brake after he had moved it slightly earlier. He'd opted to push it the short distance so he could more easily see how everything was lining up so it had been in neutral. Almost as he asked the question, he received an answer.
The van began to roll.
'Shell!' Don thought as he quickly pulled his head out of the way of the rolling vehicle. It wasn't moving quickly by any stretch of the imagination, but it would still hurt to be hit by it. With what he had been working on, his hands were caught in the chassis and he couldn't pull them free in time. Don cringed and waited for this to start hurting a whole lot more.
But it never did.
Opening one eye then looking around at his surroundings, Donatello found that his bo staff had acted like a block, halting the moving van's forward progress. Which was good because it was his bo braking the rig and not his head doing the same job. And here his brothers thought they had better weapons. But while the bo stopping the van was good, the situation was bad because things had moved just enough that he was stuck tight. If he shifted around too much, he risked the van rolling again. He was also too far from his original position in relation to the van to free his hands. Don was going to have to wait until someone came and let him out. He just hoped he didn't start sneezing again before that happened.
This was getting ridiculous. How long could a training run possibly take? Don knew that his brothers were probably back by now, but they wouldn't know where he was. The only person around the lair who did know of the rig was Master Splinter. Which lead Don to wonder why his sensei and father hadn't come in searching for him. Master Splinter always noticed fairly quickly when they were doing things they weren't supposed to be doing, and Don was supposed to be resting, not working.
'I wonder if he knows I'm stuck and is teaching me a lesson...'
Donatello found himself getting angry.
'FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! SOMEONE LET ME OUT FROM UNDER THIS STUPID TRUCK!'
Donatello was royally peeved. It had been a long time since he had been this angry. The semi-numbed ache in his arms did nothing to improve his mood. Mostly he was mad at himself, but there was also a part of him that was ticked off because no one had come to find him yet. Did he really disappear for this long when he got into a project? The little bug in his ear that insisted 'yes' increased his ire. With no other options, Donatello continued to lay on the floor underneath the moving van. A sharp sneeze and the resulting discomfort only served to infuriate him further.
The purple masked turtle, still trapped underneath the moving van, was beginning to get hungry. That probably meant that the night had come and gone and breakfast time was right around the corner. Or it was possible that he was missing training even as he lay there thinking.
His arms were completely numb despite his best attempts to keep good circulation to them. The fact of the matter was that they were above his heart and no matter what he did, they weren't going to get the blood circulation they desired. In fact, he had lost track of how much time had past since the feeling in his fingers had slipped away. Still, he was pretty sure his efforts toward keeping some circulation to them would prevent any permanent damage.
Donatello found himself actually hoping that he was missing training, despite the punishments that tended to bring. At least it meant that Master Splinter would be around soon to scold him.
Two sharp sneezes led to a tense moment as the bo staff slipped from it's initial position wedged beneath the tire, and the rig it had supported started it's forward movement once again. Motion halted a brief moment later as the wooden weapon caught and resumed it's job as a parking brake.
'I'm going to need a new bo after this, the balance is going to be all messed up' Don found himself thinking. That thought served to bring back all the irritation from earlier and Donatello, once again, found himself infuriated.
"My son, you have missed-"
The turtles seemed to have a knack for surprising their father though he seldom showed it. Over the years, the four had become quite accomplished surprise artists, and Donatello's current predicament had only solidified the level of their skills in his mind. The situation and the glare that greeted him in the work space had been quite effective at creating a level of shock for the wise rat. His purple masked son was in an odd position underneath the moving van he had been hiding from his brothers for some time now, and he seemed... annoyed was probably putting it mildly.
"Donatello, are you alright?" Splinter asked as he approached the van and the trapped turtle beneath it.
"Fine. Peachy. Never better. Why?"
That was a tone that Splinter generally heard directed at him only by Raphael on a bad day. To hear it from the generally calm purple masked turtle told the rat a couple of things. Not the least of which was that Donatello had probably been here, like this for a very long time. Still, the teen knew better than to address his father in that tone, and a stern look resulted in an apologetic expression from the teen.
"Could you push the van backward about two feet, please?" Don asked quietly. When the rig slowly rolled back to it's original position, the turtle was able to easily slip his hands free of their confines. Two aching limbs dropped to the floor like bricks. Master Splinter was at his side a moment later.
"Donatello, are you alright?"
Don just half nodded, burying his emotions until a time that he wouldn't be exploding at his rescuer.
"Go get some rest, My son." Splinter said gently, putting a single paw on Donatello's shoulder as the teen stood. It was obvious from the reaction at being freed and the current look on his face, that Donatello had been trapped under that van for the better part of the previous night. "We will talk about this later." Splinter lingered a moment after Don had let before following the olive colored turtle into the lair.
"Hey, Donnie, you missed-"
"Shut up, Leo." Don growled as he passed through the main room of the lair on his way to his bed. Limbs that had begged for blood over the past few hours were now getting exactly what they had been begging for, and they screamed in protest. Which, though Don understood the reasons behind the pain, seemed rather ironic. Reaching his room, he flopped down on his mattress and was asleep almost instantly.
"What's up with him?" Mikey asked, looking up from the video game he had been playing with Raph. A game that had not yet degenerated into a fight.
"I don't know. He probably just isn't feeling well." Leo ventured.
Splinter half chuckled to himself. He was sure that if the other three knew what had happened to Donatello that they would never let him live it down. The rat decided that he would let his child decide what his brothers did and did not find out about last night.