A/N: Hi people!

You might be wondering: Why is Haley starting a new story when she hasn't even finished her other one?

Well, because I want to. So ha!

Actually, I'm stuck suffering from a very bad case of strep throat which keeps me from talking, so I thought I would make my FAVORITE turtle-Leonardo-suffer with me. His case is probably more severe, though.

:) Teehee.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy! I'm in a lot of pain, so there will probably be a reasonably quick update. Gotta take it out on someone, ya know?

Thanks for reading! And reviewing! And for existing in general! Y'all are awesome!

- Haley

It was just a routine patrol around New York City. Isn't that always how these stories start out?

I led the group like I always did. Mikey and Raph trailed close behind, leaving Donatello in the back. Occasionally, Raphael would drift back to check on Don, but again, this was a routine patrol, so none of us were too worried. In fact, in retrospect, we were probably a bit too cocky.

Cocky enough that I didn't even sense the Foot's presence until they were already upon us.

Once the fight started, it moved pretty quickly. Again: we were being cocky, only half-paying attention to our foes (as they tend to be the same stupid kids every time).

The Foot accepts basically anyone into their ranks. Anyone too weak is put into the "expendable" faction; A.K.A. the front line. That's what we assumed these kids were: weak and expendable.

I'll say it one more time... We were being extremely cocky.

Apparently, Shredder raised his standards for admission a bit. Before we could understand why, the fight turned ugly. They were too quick; too skilled. We suddenly found ourselves on the losing side of the battle, which is not a place we're familiar with.

I had my blades locked with a soldier and turned my head just enough to tell my brothers to retreat.

The next thing I knew, I couldn't breathe.

I vaguely remember Donatello running over and shouting something to the others. I was on the ground by this point. Then everything faded to smoke and I felt myself being half carried between two of my brothers.

Still, I just couldn't catch my breath. I'm not going to lie to you... I was starting to panic.

I forced myself to remain calm by slipping into a semi-meditative state. We finally made it to the lair and Don immediately herded us into the infirmary. Michelangelo and Raphael sat me on the cot and then stepped away so that Donnie had room.

"Okay, Leo, can you talk to me? What's wrong?" His fingers prodded my throat area, making it hard to talk (like it wasn't hard enough already), but I wheezed out, "C-can't... B-breathe..."

Donatello muttered something under his breath, picking up one of the anatomy books to the left and flipping through it urgently. He cursed under his breath, which was very unlike my level-headed bother. I guess that's how I knew something was seriously wrong.

"He's suffered injury to the left and right laryngeal nerves. I'm going to have to perform an emergency tracheostomy." Before any of us had time to ask for an English translation, Don was moving and grabbing a breathing mask. He strapped it to my face urgently. I guess it was worse than I thought. He's giving me anesthesia. I can't ask with my voice, so I ask with my eyes. "What're you doing? What's going on? What's wrong with me?"

He gets the message loud and clear. "Don't worry, Leo, you're going to be fine. I promise. Count backwards in your head from ten, okay? I'll count with you. 10... 9... 8... 7..."

And then I was gone.

As soon as I wake up, I know something is wrong with my neck, even though my head is full of cotton balls and I can't think straight. However, my arms are too heavy for me to reach up and investigate, so I content myself with just lying here. Donnie will probably be in to check on me soon anyway. I hope.

His name is Donnie, right?

I think back on the fight and try to piece everything together, but it's difficult while I'm still under the effect of drugs. Let's see: I had turned my head... And then I couldn't breathe.

But what happened?

There's a noise. Someone's in there with me, but I can't turn my head to see who. a green and red blob comes into view, and from the strip of white I see, I'd say it was grinning at me. "'Bout time yer lazy shell woke up."

I blink to try and focus. Raphael. Of course it is. I can't help but smile and he looks at me funny. Am I not supposed to smile?

No, that's not it. His eyes are flickering back and forth between my face and my neck. I knew something was wrong with it. Before I get a chance to even try to ask about it, he says, "I'm gonna go grab Don." He moves to the door but stops short.

"Yo, Donnie," he yells, "Leo's awake!" His version of "going to grab" somebody is different from mine, I guess. But we knew that already.

Still, ow. My ears.

Donatello appears above me and starts shining lights in my eyes. I want to tell him to stop and that he's hurting me, and ask him why he doesn't like me anymore, but nothing comes out. I'm not even sure I actually tried. Should I try?

"Calm down, Leo. You're okay." That's Donnie speaking. He smiling, but he looks cautious. "Listen to me. You were kicked in the throat last night during our fight and it damaged your larynx. You couldn't breathe, so... I performed a tracheostomy." I look at him funny. I know I do. I don't really mean to, but if can't help anything I do right now.

He hesitates. "It's a- it's a surgical procedure where I... Well, basically..."

Michelangelo bursts in. "Dude, you have a tube in your throat." Smack. "Ow!"

...I have a what in my throat?

I find the strength to reach up and, sure enough, there's a tube. I trace it to my throat and begin to panic. There's a hole in my throat!

"Leo, Leo, calm down! You have to lie still or you'll risk tearing the tube out."

Yeah. That's the point.

"Damnit, Mike, look what ya did!"

"You're not in your right mind now. You have to relax. Try meditating."

Meditating. I can do that. Deep breath in... Deep breath out.

Donatello says I'm going to be alright, so I believe him. I tear my eyes open again and look at him questioningly.

He smiles again. "Don't worry; it's not permanent. We'll take the tube out in a day or two when we're sure you can breathe on your own, and then the hole will heal and leave a small scar." Temporary. Temporary's good. I nod at him and he returns the gesture.

Mikey appears into view looking pitiful. "Sorry, bro. Just thought the tubage was cool. Didn't mean to freak you out." I smile at him reassuringly and he lights up like a firework on the 4th of July. "See, Raphie? Leo's not mad at me. You're just grumpier than usual, which is pretty damn grumpy, if I do say so myself. Ow! Stop! Mercy!" I don't know what Raphael did to him, but it shut him up. Serves him right for the language.

...Raph will get his later.

There's a hand on my forehead. It's Donnie. He purses his lips and then steps away, shuffling the others out with him. "Try to get some rest, bro. I'll come check on you again in a bit." Mikey barely gets out a "Later!" before the door clucks shut. Bunch of knuckleheads.

With no more distractions, I gratefully let myself slip back into unconsciousness.