CHAPTER TWO
Mikey winced as Don slowly waved his pencil flashlight into his eyes. They were sat in the infirmary, the ceiling lights dimmed and small gadgets splayed on the tin tray on the bedside table. The rest of his brothers were seated outside and Splinter stood before him, watching silently.
Don put the light down with a sigh and shook his head, "I'll have to look into… this some more. I don't… I'm not sure what's going on. Originally, I thought it was a night terror – you have the symptoms – but it doesn't fit. If this were a night terror…" He blinked himself out of his thoughts and squeezed Mikey's shoulder, "But we'll find out." He tried to smile reassuringly.
"I feel fine," Mikey said. "Maybe it was just a one-time thing?"
"Maybe." Don didn't sound convinced. Mikey didn't blame him: he wasn't, either.
"Michelangelo," Splinter said, "What is it you dreamt of exactly? Perhaps if we knew, it may provide clues as to what is occurring?"
"Well, it's like I said before," Mikey said, lavishing in the attention, "There was this old guy, right? And his hair was like ridiculously pink, and we were underwater, in this cave of some kind, and there were all these glowing rocks. It was super creepy, too. Like it was just silent and there weren't any fish or anything like that, which there should have been that deep down in the water, right? But nope. Just empty."
"And this man, he did not say anything?" Splinter asked.
"Nope." Mikey bit his lip. He felt bad for lying, but he couldn't tell any of them what the man had said. He didn't know why: he just knew he couldn't. Not yet. Not until he knew what – and who – the man had meant.
Splinter stroked his goatee, "I see." Mikey was worried he'd caught on and was going to call him on it but, instead, Splinter said, "Donatello, let your brothers know Michelangelo is okay. However, despite your claims you are well, I think it best you not be left unattended, in case these… events repeat themselves."
"Right," Mikey said: that was fine by him. He didn't feel much like snapping his legs falling out of bed, anyway.
It was super weird trying to fall asleep with his brothers sitting next to him, and a lot hard then he'd originally thought it would be. Don had taken first shift, and his eyes skimmed over the pages of a thick, glossy medical book. He'd attempted several conversations but Don would have none of it.
"It's important you get to sleep while you can," he would say, "if these nightmares get worse, it'll get harder for you to rest – and your body needs to do that Mikey, or else blah, blah, blah, science, blah, blah, blah, hygiene, health, blah, blah, blah."
With Donnie talking like that, though, Mikey found himself asleep in no time. He grinned when he realised he wasn't dreaming, but the smile slipped off when he realised he shouldn't be aware of that.
"Uh," he looked around at the darkness, his eyes wide open, "hey, Don? You there?"
A low hissing surrounded him.
"Who's there?"
The hissing got louder and closer.
"This isn't funny." He said. "Come on, old dude, show your face! Or are you too scared, huh?"
Light glared into his eyes. The old man stood before him, an inch from his face so that Mikey could see the wrinkles on his face and the specks of colour in his eyes. Mikey gasped and tried to step back, but the guy had a surprisingly tight grip on his arms.
"Me, afraid of you?" He snarled, and the hissing got louder.
Snakes with glowing purple eyes and long red bodies swam in the surrounding waters and curled around Mikey's ankle, squeezing tightly. He tried to shake them off but to no avail.
"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean it," He tried to pull out of the guy's grip, "look, please, just tell me what you mean. Who are you looking for?"
"You KNOW who I am LOOKING for!" The man's voice shook the cave, and the snakes hissed louder, "Bring him to me!"
"Who?" Mikey asked desperately.
"PUERDÉ!"
"I don't know who that is!" Mikey protested, his heart thrumming away in his chest, "I don't know who that is!"
"You LIE." The old guy thrust him against the wall of the cave and Mikey grunted. The flecks of colour in his black eyes glowed with anger, "I told you, either you return him to me, or you would suffer. For every night you do not return him, I will leave you a reminder of your disobedience."
"What the shell are you talking about – AGH!"
He looked down at his arm and his breath caught. A snake had bitten into his arm; its long fangs deep within his muscles. And it burnt.
"You can't do this!" Mikey said in a rush, "You've got me wrong! I don't know Puerdé!" The burning got worse. His vision went bright. He could hear Raph's voice, somewhere far off – "Mikey!"
"You cannot lie to me," the guy snarled, "I have seen him, you: the lot of you! You think me a fool enough to believe he lives with you, without you knowing of him? Bah! I have seen you speak to him! You think the basin shows me wrong?"
"I don't know who he is! I don't know who he is! I don't know who he is!"
"Mikey! Come on, bro', snap outta it!"
Mikey opened his eyes, his heart flapping like the wings of a hummingbird, and did the first thing he thought of: he punched.
"Hey!" Raph was clutching at his now-bloodied nostrils.
"Sorry," Mikey squeaked.
Raph breathed in and out deeply, "Are ya' alright?"
Mikey looked around at the familiar surroundings of their Lair and breathed in deeply. He looked at the fluorescent lighting, the white sheets of the infirmary, the completely normal brick walls. There was no water, no cave, and no creepy old dude. But he could still hear him.
The door swung open and Don, half-asleep and his mask askew on his face, rushed in. "I heard yelling?"
"You're supposed to be sleeping, Don." Raph pointed out.
"I'm fine," Mikey said, "it's just a little warm."
"Mikey, you're freezing," Raph said. "Ya' were just shivering then."
"Well I feel hot," Mikey said, "Someone needs to turn the heater off – hey!" the last part was to Donnie, who had started wrapping him in blankets.
"Should I run another hot bath?" Raph asked.
"No," Don said as he continued checking Mikey over.
"Come on, stop it," Mikey whined, trying to tear the blankets off. He was feeling way too hot, and not in a good way, "I'm fine, really!"
"Mikey, I think you've got hypothermia." Don said gently, "You've got to keep the blankets on."
"I don't care," he tore at the blankets, and Don grabbed them, too.
"Mikey," he said, his voice pleading. But then he stopped. "Mikey? Where… where did that come from?"
"What?" Mikey followed his gaze. The snake bite from his nightmare was there, blaring red with black around the edges – as though the fangs had been burning metal. Don put his thumbs around the bite and inspected it.
"Is that a snake bite?"
I will find you.
"There ain't no snakes in here, Don," Raph said, edge in his voice, "I would'a seen them."
Bring him back to me,
"So how did it get there?"
Or you will suffer.
"I dunno. I didn't see nothin'. He just started shaking."
I have seen you speak with him!
"There has to be some kind of logical explanation."
Every night you do not return him,
"Yeah, an' I'm sure ya'll find it out, Don. But what are we gonna do now?"
I will leave you a reminder of your disobedience.
"Well, I guess – Mikey?"
Mikey blinked. A cold chill ran down his shell. "Yeah?"
"Are you okay?"
They were both staring at him now. Mikey frowned and looked himself over – had more snake bites shown up? But he still looked fine. Well, a little pale, but otherwise he was okay. "What do you mean?"
"You looked a little far-off," Don said. "What… what did you dream about?"
Mikey hesitated. He was pretty sure these dreams were more than just dreams, but there was totally no way Don would believe that. He was way too into science – which meant he probably wasn't the Puerdé guy. But then who was? Could one of his brothers, or his father, not really be who they said they were? Or was Puerdé someone else? Casey?
"Mikey?" Don pressed, his voice soft.
"It was… it was the same guy, from before." Mikey shrugged.
"The one with the pink hair?" Don asked, "Can you describe him more? What else did he look like?"
He had blue skin, Mikey wanted to say, and these glowing spots and lines along his body, and black eyes, and he was freaky, and I think these aren't dreams, and I'm freaking out, 'cause he's saying one of you aren't actually you and I don't know what I'm supposed to do about it.
"He was just… normal." Mikey lied. "But this dream, uh… there were snakes in this one. Glowing snakes."
"Underwater?" Don frowned, "Are you sure you don't just mean eels?"
"No," Mikey insisted, "they were definitely snakes."
"Alright," Don said slowly, the cogs in his brain on overdrive behind his large brown eyes. "Alright."
"I, uh, I should go get Splinter and Leo," Raph said. "Let them know what's happened."
Mikey wanted to argue about it and tell them he was fine, but he felt tired, so he didn't bother. Don lifted him back onto his bed and wrapped the blankets around him. He hesitated. "Don… something really, really bad is going on here." He whispered. "And I'm… I'm scared. Like, really scared."
"You're going to be fine, little brother," Donnie said, "we're going to find out what's doing this, and put a stop to it, okay? We're family. It's what we do."
Mikey just nodded.
Don smiled gently and turned for a moment to grab some cotton swabs from the desk drawers, "I'm going to take a sample from the snake bites, okay? And see if they give any clues." Mikey didn't respond, and Don went ahead with getting his samples. "Strange. These bites look like they're at least a few days old, but you didn't have them earlier." He pulled the swabs back, and they had yellow-orange ooze on them. Mikey tensed.
"Don't touch that stuff."
"What do you mean?" Don asked.
"It… it burns," Mikey said. "The poison."
"Venom." Don corrected, "If it was injected by a snake, it would be venom."
"Just don't touch it."
"Michelangelo, my son,"
Mikey looked up and offered his father an apologetic smile, "Hey, Dad."
"Are you alright?" Leo asked, right behind their father.
Mikey rolled his eyes, "I'm fine."
Despite his reassurances, Splinter insisted on checking Mikey's temperature himself and wrapped him in layers of blankets and scarves. It reminded him of when they'd all been little. Leo made him a cup of warm chocolate milk and insisted on helping Don help to cover up the snake bite as Mikey re-explained his dream.
"What did the snakes look like?" Leo asked.
"What does that matter?" Mikey asked. "They were just snakes."
"The more we all know the better," Leo said.
"Leonardo is correct, Michelangelo." Splinter supplied, "Perhaps these dreams will lead us to the cause of your... illness?"
Mikey made a point of signing. "I don't know, just, like, red with purple eyes."
"And they glowed," Don added. He looked to Mikey, "Didn't they?"
Mikey nodded.
"The whole of them?" Leo asked.
"N-No. Just their eyes. I think. I wasn't really paying much attention to it."
"Why not? What else was happening?" Leo asked.
"What makes you think anything else was happening?" Mikey snapped, getting defensive. He felt claustrophobic under the mountain of blankets and he was starving and they were all looking at him like he'd half gone insane and he was half worried that he had.
Leo wrapped an arm over his shell, "Mikey… what happened?" he leant down so that they were looking into each other's eyes, keeping him from looking away, "What scared you?" he asked in a quiet voice.
"I… he… he said…" Mikey swallowed thickly. "I can't."
"Okay." Leo wrapped his arms around him, "That's okay, Mikey."
Tears were building up in his eyes. He had started shivering again. He hated whoever the guy in the stupid nightmare was. These were his brothers. This was his family; the people who he would trust his life with; the people who would, and had, risked their own lives for his. How could the Pink-Haired guy make him forget that so easily?
"These… these are just dreams, right?"
Leo hesitated and shared a glance with Splinter.
"I don't know."
Eventually, Mikey had to sleep again. He didn't like it, but he'd only gotten a few hours earlier, and they all insisted. Splinter took first shift and ushered the rest of his sons to their own rooms. Don insisted on wanting to look at the venom samples, but Splinter insisted more. That was Dad for you. Mikey fell asleep to Splinter singing him a quiet Japanese lullaby, and soon Mikey found himself back in the underwater cave: a place which he was quickly learning to hate.
There was no hissing and there were no snakes.
It was dark, lit only by the stones in the stone basin.
The old guy wasn't in sight.
Mikey tried pinching himself awake. When that didn't work, he decided he'd best go for his nunchucks – but they were missing from his belt. In fact, his entire belt and all the rest of his gear was missing, except for his bandana.
"Great." He muttered.
Underwater, unconscious, uncertain – and defenceless.
With nothing else to do, he wandered through the cave. He woke up every time he found Oldie, so he'd just need to find him again. Besides, Splinter was there with him (sort of). If anything went wrong, Splinter would keep him safe. With that in mind, Mikey began his voyage. The cave was deeper than he'd thought: down, down it went, lit up only by the occasional glowing stone. He thought he saw the eyes of a snake at one point but they were gone when he looked back. It was eerily quiet and it was starting to hurt his head.
He didn't want to risk hurting the guy's feelings again since that didn't work out well last time. He winced and grabbed at the snake bite. So he decided to go for another approach – he called him by name. He didn't want to use it. Something about the name frightened him. But the thought he might not wake up otherwise frightened him more.
"Quadeus?" He called tentatively, "Are you here?"
No response.
After a few more steps, though, he started to see light up ahead. He started a slow jog which turned into a slow run towards it. It was a deep cavern here with giant purple crystals on the ceiling to light the space up. The area was a circle, with stone steps like that of the colosseum; like stands to watch people fight to the death. Mikey frowned.
Quadeus was sat, his hands in his head, on one of the stone steps. He looked up at the purple crystals, as though asking them, "why?"
"Uh," Mikey hesitated, "Quadeus?"
No response. The guy couldn't hear or see him.
"Quadeus?" Mikey repeated, louder, just to be sure.
Still, no response.
Quadeus kept on looking up at the purple crystals. He closed his black, deer-like eyes and breathed air out his nose, causing a parade of bubbles to dance up to the ceiling of the cavern. Mikey looked around at the walls: small pictures were carved into them, like the columns outside. Pictures of blue people dancing, singing. They looked happy, carefree. What had happened to them, Mikey wondered?
He walked to the centre of the open floor. The bench seats spread all around him in a perfectly crafted circle: five or six long trucks in diameter. A great, big amphitheatre not for killing, Mikey realised, but for parties – for people to sing and dance, like the pictures on the walls. He wondered what it was like for those blue people, to dance within the water. Mikey tried to give it a go, out of mere curiosity, but the water weighed him down and was too thick for him to move in. It was then it dawned on him that he shouldn't be able to breathe.
"Soon."
The sound was so sudden that Mikey all but jumped out of his shell. He turned to Quadeus anxiously, "W-What?"
But Quadeus wasn't looking at him. He was staring up at the crystals, still.
"He'll come home soon." Quadeus' shoulders were slumped, relaxed, and he breathed the water in slowly. He interlaced his webbed fingers together, which sort of made it look like he'd wrapped his hands in a giant wad of stretchy bubble gum, and a sort-of smile graced his face.
"But who?" Mikey muttered helplessly.
Quadeus clapped his hands and the cavern descended into darkness with a snap.
TO BE CONTINUED…