A/N: If anyone has read this far, I'd just like to know: Do you like what you've read? Why or why not? It's so hard to know how a reader might perceive this fan fiction. I feel as if I am stepping outside of my own comfort zone...

Anyway, on to Part 4!


Hurricane: Part 4

Donatello and Michelangelo were making their way from Splinter's room when Raph found them.

"Guys, we need ta talk."

"Can it wait?" Don asked, pausing in his assistance of the turtle with the bandaged leg. Under his eyes, the dark shadows looked alarmingly permanent. Something...darker emanated from the depths of those eyes. Something dark enough to send shivers through Raph's body.

"...Nah, it can't."

"Look, I'm tired, Raph. Mikey's tired. April, Casey, Sensei...we're all tired. You want to talk, go talk to Sensei. He's expecting you anyway." Slinging Michelangelo's arm back over his shoulders, Donatello went back to helping his brother limp in the direction of their rooms.

Stung, Raphael let them pass, not sure if he should be more furious or hurt at the retort. In the end, he just grit his teeth, scowled, and followed the two on their trek.

I already talked ta Splinter, Science Boy. Ya just don't know it.

The stairs proved to be more of a challenge for Mikey than Don had probably thought. They could've taken the lift, but nope. Each step brought forth a grimace or whimper, ultimately causing Don to apologize.

Wince.

"Sorry."

Whimper.

"...Sorry."

"Ow!"

"Mike, I'm sorry!"

"Can't you be gentler here?"

"Well maybe if you'll let me administer more pain relievers-"

"No! No more needles!"

Raph, who'd been watching with evil amusement, felt a twinge of surprise at this remark. Wasn't Mikey all proud and brave not an hour ago? Now here he was, cowering from Donny's touch like a puppy afraid of its vaccinations.

Wha...?

"Okay, Mike. I was going to suggest pills, but whatever. Just take it easy, I promise I'll be more gentle..."

He bit his tongue. No use bringing it up. It was Mikey, after all. Why would he waste his breath?

Besides, he had more important matters on his mind at the moment. The anger he'd let slip toward Leo still coursed through his veins, whispering to him, eager to spill blood.

Foot blood.

"I feel all...dirty, is all. Like I'm some sort of big turtle cocktail full of weird-feeling stuff."

"...That would be the morphine, Mike. I hope."

Once the not-so-chuckling Chucklehead had been situated in his bed, Raph decided to make his move. When Donatello turned to leave, he found his way blocked by a certain stubborn mutant.

"Move."

"No."

"Raph."

"I said no!" He was going to make them listen, no matter what. Maybe Splinter had discouraged his idea, but that didn't mean he'd give up on it quite yet. "Will ya take a sec an' just hear me out?"

"I don't have a 'sec'! I need to be back downstairs with Leo! I shouldn't have left in the first place!"

"Leo ain't goin' nowhere fer awhile."

The purple-clad turtle flinched like Raph's tone had physically slapped him. Mikey uttered a squeak.

Raph pretended he didn't notice. "He ain't goin' nowhere, an' who's fault is dat?"

"...Mine." Donatello pinched his brow ridges together, body sagging with self-inflicted guilt as he cast his gaze to the floor.

"No! Dat's not what I meant!" He replied hastily. "Da damned Foot are da ones ta blame, Don. Not you."

"But I-"

"No, none o' that crap! It's dem Foot who did dis an' it's dem Foot who's gotta pay!"

Silence. Uncertainty. Fidgeting. Then, "What did Sensei say?"

"Ferget Sensei fer a moment, will ya?" As their leader, Leo always asked permission before pursuing a fight. They all knew that. It was customary, required. Sure, Splinter had rejected his request, but he wasn't Leo.

Don crossed his arms, mirroring his thick-headed brother without realizing. "What makes you think we'll just 'forget' something so vital to our way of life?"

"T'ink about it. Fer years dey've been huntin us. Runnin' us down. Dem damn bastards an' their head honcho in spikes. Friggin' Karai is psycho-er dan da first one, an' we'd be stupid ta pertend she ain't got it out fer Leo. He's been through a heck of a lot worse dan dis- hell, we all have! If he's playin' Sleepin' Beauty again, great! But if he don't wake up-"

"Don't say that." Hissed Donatello, eyes flashing. It gave him a sinister look, coupled with his sorrow the way it was. He practically radiated depression. And fury.

"I'm sayin' it, alright! 'Cuz if he don't wake up, dey win, don't dey? Dey finally kill one o' us an' dey figure da rest will be easy pickin's."

Michelangelo, who'd been fingering the edges of his bandages sullenly, snapped into attention. "They won't get me easy. I swear to God, if we lose Leo..." An odd noise came from the turtle's throat and he did not continue.

"See, Mikey gets it!" Raph lowered his voice a few notches. "If we lose our bro, dey'll just keep righ' on huntin' us, won't dey, Don? Dey won't give us a break or nothin'. Dey'll nevah stop, will dey?"

"...No, they won't."

Close enough to a "you're right" for him. "An' are ya gonna let 'em take ya without a figh'? Let em run tests, dissect ya, murder ya...an' not figh' em?"

"Of course not! Why would I-"

"Good. Cuz I got a plan."

"Wait. Hang on a second here," said Donny, collapsing on the edge of the bed. Mikey barely moved his leg out of the way in time. "Are you telling me you actually have a plan? And you expect us to carry it out, the three of us?"

Funny how all of a sudden Don was the one asking for a second. Heh, little prick. "It ain't just gonna be da three o' us. We got friends fer a reason, don' we?"

"You're expecting our friends to risk their lives for us?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Let me guess, we call in as many of our allies as we can to participate in an all-out battle to the death." Sarcasm dripped from Donny's sentence.

"Close. Dere's more tho."

"Oh, do tell. It's not like you're jeopardizing anyone here."

Don't get angry... Don't get angry...

"Well, I was thinkin' bout how dem Foot an' how dey nevah leave us be. Dey are such damn pests, like wasps dat won't stop stingin' ya... An' den I thought o' da Foot's tower an' how it's lika wasp nest. No mattah how many o' dem you squash, more'll just come from da nest."

"You're saying, if we destroy their tower, we destroy the clan."

Sometimes, no matter how much he got on his nerves, he sure appreciated how sharp his brother was. "Sorta... But we'd need a big distraction in orda ta do it. Somethin' that'd get even da queen bee outta her nest."

"Queen wasp," interjected Mikey,"'Cause it's a nest and they're wasps and all."

"Whatevah," said Raph, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

The suggestion at hand seemed to snap Donatello out of his gloom. They could practically see the wheels in his head start to turn again. "So we portray enough of a threat to lure Karai and as many of the Foot away from the tower as possible, then detonate a controlled explosion to bring it down without causing too much damage to the surrounding buildings-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, all that. Ya get the idea tho, righ'?" Raph let himself feel a little hope. Maybe he'd really convinced Don.

"Yes. But I don't know, Raph..."

Eh, never mind. The unspoken "no" in Don's voice smarted like, well, one of them wasp stings. "What don't you know, huh? Somethin' not good enough for ya?"

"Hey, all I said was 'I don't know'!"

"Yeah, an' all I said was 'somethin' not good enough?', well is there? You don' think my plan's good enough, Genius?"

Donatello shot back to his feet. "You want my honest opinion? It's full of flaws, scenarios we can't control! What happens if someone we know dies because we asked them to help us? What then, Raph?"

"SOMEONE WE KNOW IS DYIN' DOWNSTAIRS 'CAUSE WE DIDN' ASK FER HELP!"

In the silence that followed Raphael's outbreak, he watched his brother's resolve crumble. Donatello's unmasked face fell once again into shadow. Still in bed, eyes round, Michelangelo had frozen in shock.

From below, a great commotion began. Raph knew it was because of him. This time he'd done it. Oddly, he couldn't care less.

"How much longer are we gonna sit an' take almost gettin' killed ovah an' ovah, Don? Tell me dat."

Donatello never did get the chance to answer.

"Don! Don!"

Hurtling up the stairs and down the short hall, April pushed her way past Raph. The long night had been rough on her, as with all of them, but her appearance now compared to an hour ago was far worse. Pale and winded, she grasped the red-banded turtle's upper arm as her legs nearly failed her.

"April!" Fight forgotten, Donny immediately went to her side. "April, are you alright? What's-"

He tried to reach out and support her, yet it was she who lashed out and took hold of him. Tears dripped from her chin as she uttered in a strangled voice the words they'd been dreading.

"It's Leo."