No Apology Needed
Raph's family stood around him as he lay strapped to the cot. They could see that he was suffering; his fever high, color off, and eyes glazed with pain. Don held the hypodermic that would end his brother's life in a shaking hand, but couldn't bring himself to administer the drug.
"Don," Leo whispered, looking up at his brother.
He had offered to give Raph what was in essence a lethal injection; he considered it his place to do so as the leader. Don refused the gesture; he had been Raph's doctor far too long to relinquish this final commitment.
"How long?" Mikey croaked in a voice totally unlike his own.
Don glanced at the clock. "Four hours. He's lasted longer than the humans who've been bitten."
Master Splinter set a soothing hand to his son's hot forehead. "He is very strong."
Taking that as a sign to wait a bit longer, Don looked down at Raph's face, trying to remain clinical and detached. Of course it wasn't possible; this was his brother. He had grown up with Raph, slept in the same bed as children, foraged for food, learned to fight, learned to live, and shared everything. Tears that Don didn't want began to leak from the corners of his eyes.
Raph began to shake violently and then to retch. Twisting around, Don grabbed a rolled up towel from the medical cart and placed it between Raph's teeth just as white foam started to form in the corners of his mouth.
"Don," Mikey moaned, "oh, shell. He's suffering."
They watched as Raph's pupils rolled back and then his eyes closed. His teeth were grinding into the cloth and a low pitched growl began to climb up from his throat.
"He should die with honor, Donatello," Master Splinter said softly. "Not as an animal, but as your brother."
Don didn't know why, but he still couldn't bring himself to give Raph the shot. Something was holding him back, something more than his emotions.
Raph was pulling at his restraints, the muscles on his arms and legs bulging with his efforts. Suddenly his eyes snapped open and the brilliant gold color shot out at Don, seeming to plead with the genius.
However, Don didn't see a plea for death in those golden orbs, he saw a plea for life.
"Wait," Don told his family.
"Donny, I know this is hard . . . ." Leo began.
"No, it isn't that," Don said. "Please. Let me check something first."
As they looked at one another, Don turned away, crossing the infirmary to extract a clean syringe from his medical supplies. Back at Raph's side, he quickly tied off Raph's arm, thumping his finger against a vein to lift it.
"What are you doing?" Mikey asked.
"Drawing another sample of his blood," Don answered, intent on his task.
Once the syringe was filled, Don released the rubber tourniquet from Raph's arm and then raced over to his microscope. Placing a sample of the blood on a slide, he set it carefully beneath the viewfinders so that he could examine it.
After several minutes, Leo crossed the room to join him. Raph still fought against his restraints, a high whine evidence of his pain, but Don was focused elsewhere.
Even without seeing Don's face, Leo could sense his excitement. Trying hard to not let hope sift into his feelings, Leo couldn't help that a slight quiver possessed his hands.
"Donny," he all but whispered.
Don looked up, his eyes almost manic. "The infected cell count has decreased. Decreased, Leo! Raph is fighting the infection."
Master Splinter moved to the end of the cot and stared at Donatello.
"How is that possible?" he asked.
"It must have something to do with our mutation," Don said excitedly. "The zombie saliva carries a toxin that mutates cells, but so did the ooze that transformed us. They can't coexist in the same host."
"So the ooze is stronger?" Mikey asked, trying to wrap his head around the information.
"Exactly," Don told him, rushing back to Raph's side. "The ooze is too strong and Raph is too strong."
Leo walked back to them slowly, almost in a fog. "So Raph will . . . ." He cleared his throat and tried again. "Raph will survive?"
"Yes," Don said, tossing the deadly hypodermic in the wastebasket.
Already the tremors that had wracked Raph's body were lessening. Mikey ran a washcloth under cold water, wrung it out, and came back to place it on Raph's forehead.
Master Splinter was holding tightly to one of Raph's feet, his eyes closed and his head tipped back as if in silent prayer.
Don's eyes were glowing. "I can create a sort of anti-venom with these results. We'd have to deal with Bishop to get it administered, but I think he would agree to a momentary truce in order to take the credit for curing this outbreak."
"You're a genius, bro'," Leo said.
"No," Don replied. "This time Raph is the genius. His strength kept him alive and saved the city too. He is the real hero."
The End