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-Chapter 04-
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"Keep a close eye on Mike and call me if there's any problem. I won't be far."
"What do ya mean, are ya sure? Where ya goin'? An' what do I do if somethin' goes wrong?" Raph sounded a little panicked.
"Raph, it's okay. The bullet is out and there's nothing more to do now than let him sleep. He needs a transfusion – I have the equipment, but not the blood. Mikey's type O, remember? He can donate to us, but we can't do anything for him."
"Well," Raph said, scratching the back of his head uneasily, "uh, maybe you should let me go. Just tell me what kind to get, I can do it."
"No. This is my mess." Don looked at Mike lying there. He looked peaceful enough but his color was still off. "It's my duty to make it right. Besides, I really need to get some air."
Raph nodded. "Alright." He wanted to know what was going on with Don as much as the rest of them, but had no words to say. Raph had never been much of a conversationalist, anyways. The whole thing made him feel uncomfortable. But he also understood that there was another reason Donatello wanted to leave the lair and as soon as Donnie slipped out, that reason made itself more than clear.
"Where's Donatello?" Leo was there and his voice was fire. Raph might not have understood why Don did what he did, and sure he was a little pissed that Mike got hurt in the process – but he didn't share in the wrath that Leonardo was making obvious would be unleashed on their genius as soon as he returned to them.
"Out."
Leonardo blinked. "What do you mean, 'out'? So he just abandons Mike like this? He's the doctor – does he even care about Mike at all!?"
"He had to get blood, Leo. Said Mikey needed it."
"So you let him go? Why didn't he send you, or me? How much more irresponsible can you guys be?"
"Look, I know yer pissed off at Donnie but he ain't here now, so take a pill. He's got his phone, an' he ain't goin' far." He scowled. "An' keep yer voice down, Mikey's tryin' to sleep."
Leo left without another word. Raph sighed bitterly, shaking his head. "Damn," he muttered to his sleeping brother, "Wish I could trade places with ya right now, kiddo." He looked down at the youngest, laying one palm on his arm and wondering if Mike was going to come out of this okay. "For more reasons than one."
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"You shouldn't have done that – running into danger like that."
Donatello leaped across the rooftops without a sound, listening to her voice in his head. It was stupid, he knew, to hear her now; to let his mind create her again. Nevertheless he answered the voice, letting the conversation between them play out. She wasn't real, it was just his creation of her in his mind, but he knew her well enough to know that she would have said these exact things.
"I know."
"It isn't like you, you know. To act without thinking."
"I know. I just – I couldn't let him get away. Not after what he did."
"Why? It's done. It isn't going to change things now."
"It will. It has to." He slowed his pace, breathing heavily. "I can't keep going like this. I need to do something. I have to make it right somehow."
"And you really think this is the way to do it?"
"Yes! No – I don't know. I – I didn't mean for Mikey to get hurt…" He stopped running. He stood there under the half-moon, looking upwards and letting the cold breeze strike his face. "I didn't think about the others at all. I should've known that they would follow me in. Stupid, I just wasn't thinking straight."
"Of course you weren't. You'd never put your family in danger on purpose. You know that, and so do they. Don't you see what this has done to you? All these years and you've let it fester. It's destroying you. And it's hurting them to watch you."
Donatello covered his face with both hands. "I know. I – I'll make this right. I saw him, I'll find him again. I'll make him pay. It's all I can do."
He could almost see the sad look on her face as he heard her voice in his head. "You know this isn't what I would have wanted, Donnie."
"Please -"
"There are others that care for you. Remember them."
He squeezed his eyes tight. Why was he doing this to himself? It was torture. A way of punishing himself perhaps, for getting his brother injured. He rubbed his forehead, trying to push away the memories, the thoughts of her, her voice, her smile. It was a torment he could not escape, had been unable to for so many years.
He looked up again, staring at the sky for answers that wouldn't come. Some "genius" he was. He'd never been so lost, so confused over what to do. He was the one everyone came to for solutions, the guy they counted on to figure everything out. So where was he to go for help?
"There are others that care for you Donnie."
He sank to the ground, letting the snow on the rooftop engulf his legs, oblivious and uncaring to the cold that bit at them. He stayed like that for several minutes, shivering and letting it take him over again. His despair so great, so intense, he could not help but feel the disappointment at himself all over again. All of these years gone by and he felt worse with each passing one. And now he'd even found that man, the one with the eye – but he'd slipped though Don's fingers. So close to salvation, just to see it escape once more.
And what's worse, his poor brother had paid the price for it. He was sure that Mikey was going to be alright now, but it could've gone very badly. He stood up, remembering his purpose and setting off into the night again, worrying on top of it all that his family would never forgive him for this.
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"So uh, what happens now? Is he gonna get better right away, or what?" Don had slipped in without much fanfare and had begun hooking up the equipment. Raphael was actually a little impressed that Don had been able to acquire the necessary blood so fast and efficiently; he was sure now that Don had scoped out a viable blood bank in the area prior to the need for it. It wouldn't surprise him. Don was anything if not prepared for any eventuality.
Donatello looked up at his brother. It was rare to see so much genuine concern on the gruff turtle's face but of course it was warranted. Raph always softened up when any one of them was down with sickness or injury. Though he tried his best to act otherwise, Raphael was vehemently protective of everyone in the family, often throwing himself face-first into danger when one or more of them were threatened.
"Well, yes. The only thing holding him back is the lack of blood, so he should begin to feel better almost instantly. He most likely would've recovered without the transfusion, but it would've taken weeks, or months even, for his body to reproduce all that he's lost. With this, he'll be better in days, barring any other complications. He may not wake up for a few hours though." Don sounded hopeful but his voice belied the sadness underneath. "He'll probably be up and walking around tomorrow, if all goes well."
"Yeah?" Raph brightened. "That's great, Donnie." He looked really impressed. "We're uh, real lucky to have a genius in the house, that's for sure."
"Huh," Don scoffed. "Sure, when I'm not forcing my brothers to come to my rescue. When I'm not almost killing them." He spoke with little emotion, focusing only on what he was doing.
"Donnie…" Raph struggled to find the words. He took a deep breath. "Look, I know Leo's hot as hell about this, but I know ya didn't mean for Mikey to get hurt. It was just an accident, an' – well, whatever yer reasons were, they must be pretty big."
Don shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Nothing is worth this."
"He's gonna be okay, ya said so yourself. You know I ah…" Raph stalled, playing with the ends of his mask. "I guess I know what it's like to lose yer head, to run into a fight without thinkin'. I ain't exactly one to point the finger, y'know?"
"You've never done anything this bad. This… stupid." He looked up at Raphael. "Leo's never going to forgive me for this one. Probably Sensei, too."
"Ah c'mon, that ain't true. How's that saying go? Wounds heal over time? Leo will forget how mad he is atcha. I should know." He muttered the last part. "An' I don't think Sensei'll be mad at all. You should um, talk to him, y'know?"
"It's 'time heals all wounds'." Don looked away, thinking of a time long ago. "And I would believe that brother, if I didn't know for a fact that it wasn't true."
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It was too bright in here. Mike closed his eyes again, the temptation of sleep urging him to fall back in.
"Hey there."
Michelangelo blinked a few times and looked around. Donatello was standing there, leaning over him. He saw Raphael sitting in a chair and then watched as he stood, coming over to the bed as well. Both brothers were smiling at him. That was weird. Usually they didn't look this happy, especially Raph. He looked down at himself and saw the bandages.
"Ohhh, I remember." Mike cleared his throat noisily. "One of those guys in the suits got me. I thought those guys on that side were all done… I think the dude was laying down, playing dead or something."
"He was," Raph added. "I took 'em out right after he shot ya."
"How are you feeling?" Don began to peer closely into each of Mike's eyes.
"Mmm… tired. And thirsty. And hungry!" Mike sat up, excited at the prospect of food. "Ow! And in pain…" He clutched at his arm, which was now sitting snug in a neatly bound sling. "Ugh."
"Hold on." Don grabbed a bottle from the table and shook out a small pill, and then did the same from another bottle. "Take these. One will help with the pain, the other is for infection. You need to take each one twice a day, alright? Don't forget." Even though he sounded adamant that Mike remember, Don knew that he'd be on his brother every twelve hours like clockwork, making sure his flighty sibling didn't miss a dose.
"I'll getcha some water." Raph stood up. "Some cold pizza in the fridge, too – that okay, doc?"
"Sure." Don smiled a little. "He can have whatever he wants."
"Awesome. Ah, now begins the pampering. This is the good life." Mike leaned back. "Ouch. Well, it would be good, if I didn't have a gaping hole in my arm."
"Not so fast." Donatello cut in again. "You should get plenty of rest, but it won't be necessary to wait on you hand and foot. You'll be able to get up and feed yourself I think, starting tomorrow."
"Awww. But I like being waited on." Mike whined. "C'mon, just a little?"
That actually brought a big, wide smile to Donatello's face, the most genuine one any of them had seen in a long time. "Fine. You have me for twenty-four hours - no more."
"Well, I guess that's better than nothing." Mike thought for a minute. "Hmm… now what should my first order be?"
"I should point out that I'm not agreeing to fulfill your every whim," Don added, "I'll just bring you things you want, while you're in bed."
"Aw, c'mon! That's not how it works, dude. Dance for me!"
"No."
"Sing me a song?"
"Try again."
"Then tell me why you flipped out and went after those guys." Mike's tone changed drastically, and suddenly. All jokes were gone in an instant and it stopped Don in his tracks. He dropped the bottle of pills he was still holding. In the still room, the sound of the bottle hitting the floor the loudest thing Don had ever heard.
"W-what?"
"You heard me. You said you were gonna tell us what's wrong." Mike, lying wounded, sounded worried for him. Mikey didn't hold a grudge – he wouldn't – Don already knew that. He wouldn't have considered that Don was even a bit responsible. Knowing that really only made him feel worse.
"I guess I owe you that."
"Yeah, you do. But not 'cuz I got hurt. Because you need to tell us. C'mon Donnie." Mike lit up a little, encouraging his brother.
Donatello nodded, slowly. "Alright. But I'm only going to tell this once. I guess… I should wait for Raph." He swallowed painfully. "And Leo."
"What about Sensei?"
"I – I don't know. Let me try this with you guys first. I'll talk to Master Splinter about it in private."
"Okay. Hey Donnie?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't sweat it, okay? Nothin's so bad you can't tell us. Especially me. I'm the most awesome, after all."
Donatello thought about Leo, who probably wanted to toss him off of a roof right now. He thought about Raph, who meant well, but wasn't the easiest to talk to. He thought about his sensei, whom he loved beyond belief – but was utterly terrified to talk to. He looked up at Mike right then – smiling the biggest, dumbest grin that only Mike could – and smiled back at him.
"You know what, Mikey?" Don leaned down and gave the young turtle an affectionate noogie. "You are the most awesome."
"Ha ha… I know it."
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"Shouldn't we be lettin' Mikey sleep right now?"
"No. I wanna be here." Mike started strong with that statement, but lost his serious tone quickly enough. "Besides, I feel pretty good right now. Painkillers are awesome." He looked at his brother a little drunkenly, his eyelids drooping slightly with the effects of the pills.
"Great. Now you're a drug addict."
Mike giggled - a little too much - at Raph's statement. "Ah, don't worry about me, Raphie. I can't see myself being able to ninja it up like this – actually, these pills like, erase the ninja skills. I feel kinda clumsy and slow."
"Hardly different from any other day, then."
In lieu of a witty comment (which he was having a little difficulty coming up with right this second, actually) Mike stuck his tongue out at Raph instead. Raphael just shook his head at his brother, who was only really acting marginally more goofy than usual.
Donatello had decided that Mike should stay in bed, so they'd all gathered here in Mike's room. It was late and Master Splinter had already retired for the evening; it was no coincidence, as Don had decided that it was the best way to avoid involving his father for now. He supposed that their sensei would probably know what was going on regardless. Somehow, he usually did. But waiting until evening would send a clear message to his master, one that said that he just wasn't ready for his involvement quite yet. He knew that his master would respect his space, as he had done in the past.
"I'm uh, not really sure where to begin." Don said nervously. He sat opposite Mike's bed on the floor, cross-legged and hunched over, holding a large book in his lap. He looked around at them all, apologetically. Mike was propped up with a bunch of pillows and in contrast looked quite comfortable and content. Raph had sunk into a beanbag chair to Don's left, his arms crossed and looking unusually patient.
Leo, on the other hand. Leo was also sitting on the floor to Don's right, cross-legged and back erect, with his hands resting on his knees. His breathing was slow and controlled, his eyes narrow and discerning. Everything about his oldest brother's demeanor told Donatello that Leo was not done being angry. Don had looked at Leo last, but dropped his eyes away quickly in shame.
"Just start at the beginning, dude." Mike grinned at him. It helped give Don confidence.
"Okay," Donatello began. "Here goes."
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