"Sensei!"
Upon opening the van door, Donatello's face lit up as he moved towards his master. Splinter put a hand up to stop him, however. "The welcomes can wait until later, Donatello. For now, I suggest you look over Miss Grayson's injuries before they overcome her senses." Nodding, Donatello looked at Allison as he helped her into the back of the van, his relief at having Splinter back clearly evident on his face.
Leading her into the back as the others began piling into the van, Donatello asked, "What's wrong?" Raphael was reclining back on a chair, covered in a heavy blanket. He seemed very tired and not quite all there, but he still managed to comment, "What? Every time we meet again you get a new injury or somethin'?"
Seeing the turtle looking even more wounded than he had been before, Allison momentarily forgot about her concerns and started towards him. "Raphael, are you-?" The question died on her lips as the van jerkily started up. She lost her balance and would have fallen on top of Raphael, had he not sat up quickly and held her up by her waist. From the front, Michelangelo called, "Sorry 'bout that."
In the strange embrace, Allison looked up at Raphael. She was so close to his face that she could make out thin scratches across his cheeks, presumably from the rats. Though the sudden movement seemed to have brought him some kind of discomfort, he seemed as though he were actually concerned about her. As Donatello gently helped her to her feet and led her to another chair, Raphael leaned back. "Klutz," he murmured.
"What happened?" Donatello repeated, bringing Allison back to the current situation. "Huh? Oh… my arm…." She gingerly held up her left arm as Donatello crouched in front of her. "I was hit… by a golf club." Confused, Raphael broke in. "Golf club? Casey ain't been beatin' up on ya, has he? You ain't that annoying." Becoming concerned with the pain that bolted up her arm as Donatello gently examined it, Allison softly replied, "No. It was Splinter."
Donatello looked up at her, and she could feel Raphael do the same. "Yes," came Splinter's voice from the front. The three of them turned to see him standing directly behind the front seats, looking at them softly. "I must apologize for what I did. I would have hoped that my will had been stronger than that."
"No," Allison told him, trying to reach out to him from where she was. "You did hear me, part of the way, at least. If it had been Donatello or Leonardo there instead of me, you would have come to your senses right away." With a small smile, he appreciatively took her hand as Donatello began searching for supplies to fix her arm. "Somehow, I fear you give me far too much credit."
His eyes turned to look at Raphael. "What has happened to you?" Raphael rolled his eyes, obviously not wanting to get into it. Still engrossed in his search, Donatello responded, "He went off by himself, and the rats picked up his scent and ambushed him by the castle. Since we didn't know which pond Casey was talking about when he called us, I searched over there with the van while Leo and Mikey went elsewhere to look for you guys, and I managed to pull him in before they ate him alive." He glanced back at his wounded brother, who didn't seem appreciative of having his injuries announced for all to hear. "I've disinfected most of the bites and scratches, but this has only thrown in a huge setback in his healing process."
Raphael seemed to scoff at this idea, but gave his cynicism no voice. Standing, Donatello handed Splinter a blanket from a bundle he had gotten out. "Here you go, Sensei. You should sit down and dry off. You must be freezing." When Splinter accepted the blanket with thanks, Donatello turned to Allison with another blanket, using it to gently dry her hair. "You too. With all of the different things your immune system already has to deal with, we don't need you to get sick." Allison accepted the blanket from him, using it to dry her face with her good arm.
"So bud," Michelangelo called from behind the wheel. "Where was it that you saw your friend's car? We'll drive by and scope it out." Suddenly remembering about Robert, Allison froze and looked down at the damp scarf she still held in her other hand. "Rob," she whispered, more to herself. Louder, she said, "Uh… It was on Lorimer… it was across the street from a place called Gary's Hardware and another one called Happy Cat Cleaners."
"Gotcha," Michelangelo replied. "We'll be there in no time." As Donatello knelt down before her once again, she heard Leonardo say that he was going to call April. "Hmm," Donatello mused, staring at her arm. "Definite bruising, but since you don't seem to have too much of a problem moving your wrist or anything, it's definitely not broken, which is another miracle. Maybe Sensei had more control over himself than he imagined."
Allison looked at Splinter, who had contented himself to sit on the floor of the van. "Perhaps," he responded quietly. "That only poses fewer excuses for my hostilities towards her since last night. Also for the ones made towards you, Raphael." Raphael looked up at the mention of his name, but mumbled something unintelligible in response as he dropped his head against his shoulder. "He's pretty drugged up," Donatello explained quietly, fishing through a large first-aid kit. "Between a bullet tearing into his chest yesterday and being attacked by thousands of gnashing teeth and claws, he's definitely sorer than he lets on, so I took it upon myself to give him a very small dose of morphine."
Removing a bottle from his kit, Donatello added, "In fact, you could probably use some medication, too, Allison." He shook out three small tablets into his hand and offered them to her. "Here, take these while I work on your wounds." Allowing the pills to drop into her hand, Allison looked at them suspiciously. "Morphine? Am I that bad?" Preparing a cold compress, Donatello stated, "Well, you technically are that bad, since there's a good chance of there being some bone fractures that I don't know about yet. I mean, you basically got hit by a metal stick. But no, it's not morphine. I can't exactly get my hands on that too often, so I rarely use it. This is just regular ibuprofen, for the bruising and general aches."
"Yo Don," Casey called from the back seat, looking back towards them. "If it makes a difference, I saw her get hit. It was with the flat side of a driver, so chances are good that nothin's broken. If it were a putter, though, her arm woulda ripped apart like a piñata at a kids' party." Allison shuddered at the thought, and Donatello gently put the cold compress to her arm. "Thanks, Case," he remarked sarcastically. "I'm sure we all needed that visual."
Leonardo put away his communicator and announced, "I just talked to April. She said that we can stay in her apartment until we get this stuff sorted out. Casey, you'll take Allison in through the shop, and April will lead her up and get her some dry clothes. We'll come in through the back." Casey responded, "Right." Allison stayed silent, still pondering the fates of Robert and Rosalind.
After some time in which Donatello eventually removed the cold from Allison's arm and began working on a makeshift splint, the van finally came to a stop. "Chewed up, deserted car," Michelangelo commented. "Looks like the right place." Looking up, Allison saw that they were double parked by Robert's car and she suddenly stood up. Donatello put an arm around her waist and pulled her back down. "Stay here," he said, alarmed. "I need to get your arm bandaged just in case something is wrong."
"But Rob-" Allison tried to interject, but was interrupted by Splinter. Standing, he calmly told her, "Stay where you are. Though the rain may very well have washed away their scents, I shall go and see if there is anything that may point us in the right direction." Casey jumped out of the van, and opened the way for Splinter to follow him. Wrapping his blanket over himself like a cloak to protect him from both the rain and from being seen, Splinter made his way over to the car.
Allison fidgeted, trying to watch them as they approached the vehicle. "Allison," Donatello told her firmly. "Stay still. Please, I need to get this done for your own good, okay?" Leonardo turned in his seat and looked at the worried girl. "He's right, Allison. Just sit back and calm down. If there's any way to track them from what's here, Sensei will find it and we'll follow up on the leads immediately. I promise." Leonardo's words got her to stop shifting, but they did not manage to soothe her worry. As Donatello used some sort of tool as a temporary splint and began bandaging it against her arm, Allison still attempted to crane her neck to look out the windshield at Casey and Splinter.
They were circling the vehicle, trying their best to look casual. There was one person on the other end of the street, speaking on a cell phone. Casey wandered in front of Splinter to shield him from view as the rat put his face against the glass, trying to look through the tinted windows. He seemed to peer about before looking towards the backseat, which was blocked off from Allison because of the angle in which she was sitting. However, she tensed up as Splinter suddenly pulled at Casey, pointing his attention to something he saw. Casey looked in. Surprised, he and Splinter seemed to begin a hurried conversation. What is it? Allison wondered, beginning to grow sick from her worry. What do they see?
Casey looked behind him, and it seemed that he noted that the person with the cell phone had walked away. He tried the doors of the car, but they were locked. Frustrated, he looked round once more, and removed a cricket bat from the bag he still kept at his back. Moving Splinter out of the way, he pulled the bat back and swung directly at the driver's side window, shattering it.
Shocked, Allison let out a cry and stood up. "What's he doing?" Donatello tried to pull her back. "Allison!" She ignored him and frantically went for the door. Donatello stood and grabbed her from behind. "Allison, calm down!" She tried to fight him off, pulling the door open but not escaping the turtle's grip. "Calm down? He just smashed Rob's car! What's he doing?"
With a sharp tug, Donatello pulled Allison back, his shell crashing into the side of the van. Leonardo turned in his seat and was reaching out for Allison, trying to soothe her. "Calm down, Allison. I'm sure there's a reason for it-" Angry, confused, and horrified, Allison began screaming incoherently about the lack of reason in the entire situation. Michelangelo tried to talk over her to tell her that Splinter wouldn't have let Casey do that if there wasn't a good intention behind it. Soon, the entire van was engulfed with yelling, chaotic voices.
The activity in the vehicle ceased when Casey stepped into the van, followed slowly by Splinter. Allison looked at Casey, breathing hard and leaning against Donatello after her struggle. She noticed that Casey had something else slung over his shoulder, and realized that it was Rosalind's pink baby bag. "Oh God," she breathed, suddenly imagining the worst.
Her eyes drifted over to Splinter. He was completely covered by the blanket and seemed to be hugging himself. His eyes met hers, and he slowly straightened up. A soft sound was heard, and Allison looked down at his arms. From the folds of the blanket, a small hand could be seen batting the air. As he stepped closer to Allison, Splinter's blanket fell away and revealed Rosalind cradled against his chest.
"Oh God," she sobbed again, stepping away from Donatello and quickly attempting to take the baby from Splinter with her good arm. Rosalind looked uncomfortable and it was clear that many tears had dried against her cheeks, but she seemed otherwise unharmed. Upon seeing the familiar face, Rosalind began crying again and reached her arms towards Allison's neck. Both of the girls weeping, Allison held Rosalind tightly and moved away from the others. Murmuring soft words to the child clutching onto her, Allison slowly sank to her knees and felt both relief and uneasiness flood her veins. Though the baby was all right, her mind could not help but concoct what sort of horrible scenarios would have caused her to be locked alone in the car, her father missing.
After an unknown block of time, she felt someone gently touch her half-bandaged arm. Looking to her side, she saw that Donatello had settled on the floor besides her and was continuing his work on her injury. She closed her eyes and let the tears fall, realizing that Rosalind had fallen silent. She felt Donatello's strange hand on her face, wiping it free of the tears. "The baby's asleep," he whispered quietly. "And I think you should follow suit once we get to April's."
Allison shook her head. "No," she moaned. "No, no, I can't sleep. Not until I find Robert." Donatello gently told her, "Allison, you need to rest. She needs you to rest." Opening her eyes, Allison peered down at the baby sleeping against her chest. "Until we find her father, she needs you to watch over her." She thought about it for a moment before nodding dejectedly.
Someone draped a blanket over her shoulders, and she looked behind her to see Splinter step away. "Keep the infant dry," he cautioned. "I doubt we have the means to care for one so small if she were to fall ill." Not bothering to tell him that Rosalind was already sick and that was the reason they were in their current mess in the first place, Allison carefully wrapped the blanket around the baby.
After some time, Donatello finished with her arm and turned back to his first aid kit. Allison moved to lean back against the rear of the van. It wasn't until she was facing the front that she realized that they were driving again. Splinter had sat down in the chair Allison had left, and seemed to be deep in thought. Her eyes went to Raphael, and she was surprised to see that, though he seemed to have dozed off, he was facing her. His chair had been facing the opposite direction when she was sitting in what was now Splinter's seat, but he had apparently turned to glance back at her at some point. Wrapped up in the blanket and breathing slightly irregularly, she marveled at how young he seemed. He wasn't all too different from the child she held in her arm….
"Here." Allison slowly looked at Donatello. He was crouched down in front of her once more, his palm extended with medication. It was a different pill, however, causing Allison to grow suspicious. "What is it?" He seemed to consider the question before asking, "How much do you know about medicine?"
"Not very much."
"…it's zolpidem. It will calm you down."
"I am calm."
"Allison," Donatello said, almost warningly, "please stop being difficult." They looked at one another for a moment before Allison asked, "It's a sleeping pill, isn't it?" Blinking at her, Donatello responded, "I thought you didn't know much about medicine?" Allison replied, "I don't. But I can be logical." She turned away from him, bringing Rosalind closer to her and gingerly leaning her arm against her leg. "If you were logical," Donatello told her levelly, "you would listen to me and take this. Come on, Allison, you'll feel better after you get some sleep and elevate your arm for a few hours. Trust me, okay?"
Allison turned back to him. His eyes told her that he was being sincere. Though she was always wary of medication, she looked down at the capsule being offered, then back up at Raphael. Even someone as hotheaded as him had allowed himself to be drugged and go to sleep and escape into dreams for a little while; she should be allowed the same.
She slowly reached over and took the pill. Looking down at it, she asked in a soft voice, "If I take this, who will watch over Rosalind? I can't just leave her by herself." Splinter spoke up from his seat. "Do not fear. We are not as unfamiliar with young ones as you may think." His consolation did little to help when Donatello looked back at him, his expression exhibiting the fact that they were probably even more unfamiliar with "young ones" than Allison had thought. The turtle quickly looked back at Allison, giving her a small smile. "Right," he told her. "I think we can handle it. And if all else fails, we've got April."
Still not wholly willing to entrust Rosalind to the care of four turtles, a rat, a mask-wearing psychopath, and an unknown woman, Allison lowered her eyes to look at the tablet once more. With a heavy sigh, she put it in her mouth and difficultly swallowed it. When she looked back up at Donatello, his smile had turned into one of gratitude. "I'm sorry for making you do that," he said gently. "It'll prove to be easier. You'll see." She nodded, unconvinced.
The van suddenly stopped. "This our stop," Casey stated, exiting the van. Being mindful of her various injuries, Donatello slowly helped Allison up to her feet, being sure to cover Rosalind's head with the blanket. "Go with Casey," he told her. "We'll meet you in a few minutes." Without a word, Allison stepped to the open door and allowed Casey to help her out as he grabbed the baby bag he had set down in the back of the van.
The rain had turned into a drizzle, but Casey nevertheless put an arm around Allison and hunched over her, walking quickly. "Man," he commented. "Between your hand and your arm, you're on your way to becomin' a regular mummy." Getting no response from Allison, Casey continued on without another remark.
At the corner of the block, they entered a small antique shop. The sudden warmth of the store made Allison realize just how cold she was. It was a rainy autumn day, and she was wearing a t-shirt. Shivering, she hoped that Rosalind was feeling better than she was. "Casey!" Allison looked up to see a young red-haired woman approach them from behind the counter. "Is this the girl?"
Casey nodded. "Yup." Handing off the bag to the new person, he added, "Her name's Allison, I think. Right?" Allison nodded as the woman gave Casey a wry look. "Nice going, Casey." Looking back at Allison, she warmly said, "I'm April. Come with me; I'll take you to my apartment and get you into some dry clothes before the guys get here." Softly taking hold of Allison's frigid arm, she began leading her away as she said, "Casey, mind the shop." Casey made a confused, surprised sound that Allison might have found amusing, had it not been for the fact that the zolpidem Donatello had given her seemed to already be working.
Relying on April's guiding hand, Allison found it a difficult task to keep her eyes open, and so shut them as they began to slowly ascend a flight of stairs. "You must be really shaken up," April said quietly. "That baby… Leo didn't mention her. Is she… is she yours?" Seeing Allison drowsily shake her head, April stated, "Looks like I'll be fishing out a pair of pajamas for you."
They reached the top and Allison opened her eyes to see April unlocking a door. The redhead led her in, and Allison found herself being escorted towards a small, neat bedroom. "First," April declared, putting the baby bag down, "put the baby on the bed. If she needs to be changed or anything, I'll work on that while you get dressed." Forgetting about her previous qualms about entrusting Rosalind to strangers, Allison obeyed and set the still-sleeping baby on the queen-sized bed.
Leaning her hands on either side of Rosalind, Allison shook her head firmly, determined to stay awake a little longer. She found herself becoming slightly angry at Donatello for giving her a medication that would put her out so quickly, and was glad to see that the anger actually seemed to help give her enough focus to stave off the effects for a bit.
"Here you go." Allison managed to pull herself up to accept the t-shirt and pajama pants that April offered her. "The bathroom's out the door, to the left, if you need it. Does she need to be changed?" Allison cleared her throat and managed to respond, "I think so. She's probably hungry, too." April nodded and began looking through the damp baby bag. "Go ahead and get changed. I'll take care of her." With a sound of agreement and appreciation, Allison stumbled out into the bathroom.
She contemplated splashing cold water on her face, but figured that it would be a moot point, considering her current sogginess. Glancing into the mirror, Allison almost cringed. Her lower lip had a scab, though the bruising on her cheek seemed to somehow be going down. Her hair was plastered to her head and yet still in disarray. Slowly unbuttoning her baseball shirt, she was relieved to see that the bruise on her chest hadn't worsened, and she began to realize that she hadn't had any real problems breathing recently. Putting Robert's scarf down on the sink, she peeled the soaked shirt off of her and laid it on the scarf, then undid the bandages about her shoulder. Compared to everything else she had sustained, the bruises there were mild. Her actions growing slower as she felt the medicine begin to take effect, Allison somehow managed to change her clothes while stumbling over only once.
Leaving the bathroom, Allison heard voices elsewhere in the apartment. Finding the living room, Allison saw April sitting on the sofa, feeding Rosalind her formula as Michelangelo sat next to her, watching as though fascinated. Leonardo was standing nearby, his arms crossed over his chest. Seeing Allison, Leonardo stepped towards her. "Allison, are you all right?" Allison didn't know how to respond for a moment, then managed a weak, "Yes." Michelangelo jokingly exclaimed, "She walks! She talks!"
Leonardo walked to Allison and sat her down in an easy chair. "Listen, Allison, Donny and I were talking, and we just realized something; does Robert have a cellular phone?" Trying to stay focused on what was being said, Allison managed to reply that he does. She was surprised to hear Donatello's voice, not having seen him leaning against the doorframe to April's room. "Have you got his number?"
Allison turned to look at the other turtle. "His number? Donatello, he ignores his phone under normal circumstances; I don't expect him to pick it up now." Donatello shook his head as he entered the room. "He won't have to." He held up what looked like an advanced cellular phone. "If his phone is turned on, then dialing the number through my turtlecom should be enough to track down the location of the phone. Master Splinter didn't see a phone in the car, so it might be safe to assume that wherever his phone is, he would be."
Not quite catching all of that because of her sleepiness, Allison raised an eyebrow. "Right," she mumbled. "I guess." Realizing that the zolpidem was beginning to affect her, Donatello quickly made his way to her and sat on the arm of the chair she was sitting in. "Hey, give us the number," he pleaded softly. "Then you can go off and get some sleep while we check up on him."
"I should go, too," Allison wearily began. She was cut off by a brash voice from another room. "Quit your whinin' will ya?" She looked towards what looked like the kitchen and saw Raphael entering the living room with glass of water in his hand. "You know what we're gonna say, and it looks like you're liable to pass out in about two seconds. So quit bein' a brat and give Donny the number."
Allison's eyes went over Raphael's body. Even through her now-blurred vision, she saw that the bites and scratches were worse than she had thought. The majority of them were on his legs, but they were practically invisible compared to the ones on his chest. He was covered in a few bandages here and there, but Donatello must have decided that he would be bandaging all day if he attempted to get them all covered. She wondered exactly how many rats had been on him, and how hard Donatello must have had to fight to pull his brother out of there. "Hey," Raphael suddenly barked. "What's the matter, you gone deaf? Give 'im the number!"
"Raphael," warned Splinter, emerging from the kitchen. "There is no need to yell. You will only disturb both her and the child in April's arms." Raphael looked down, almost as though he recognized the wrong in his actions, and Allison slowly turned back to Donatello. In a low voice, she gave him Robert's number and watched him punch it into the strange device.
A series of beeping sounds came from the gadget, until eventually a steady blip went off. "Got it," Donatello said triumphantly. "Looks like the signal's coming in by Broadway. Near the Avenue of the Americas, I think."
"Avenue of the Americas?" Allison puzzled. "By Miramax Studios, maybe?" Standing up, Donatello responded, "It's a possibility." He looked up at Leonardo and Michelangelo. "Come on. Let's check it out." As his brothers grouped together, Raphael said, "I shouldn't even comment on how you're pretendin' I don't exist, huh?" Flashing him a grin, Michelangelo said, "Technically speaking, dude, for this mission, you don't."
"Think of it this way," Donatello told him. "Your job is to make sure Allison doesn't try to follow us or do anything else stupid, hotheaded,... anything you would do." Allison stood and tried to object, but she became light-headed and fell back into her seat. "Woo, boy," Raphael muttered. "Gimme more morphine; I'll need it to block the pain 'a this misadventure."
Michelangelo waved goodbye to Rosalind, who was currently being gently burped by April. "Bye bye! See ya, mini-bud. We're gonna go bring back Da-da. You be a good girl for Auntie April until Uncle Mikey brings back Da-da, got it?" With a glare, Raphael remarked, "Ya know, if I wasn't partly stoned right now, I'd smack you."
"Do be careful, my sons," Splinter requested as the three turtles headed for the door. "Broadway is not exactly the most idle area of this city at two in the afternoon." Michelangelo flashed him a thumbs up. "No problemo, Splinter. One with the shadows, and all that jazz."
"Let's go get Casey," Leonardo said, already heading out. April stood up. "I need to get back to the shop, if Casey's going to leave." She looked down at the baby in her arms, who seemed somewhat peaceful now. "Uh… should I…?" Splinter stepped forward. "Here. Allow me. You should not be stopped from carrying on with your day."
April handed Rosalind over to Splinter, and Allison found it odd that she didn't even have the strength to worry about Splinter's claws inadvertently hurting the baby. April looked back at Allison. "Feel free to use my bed. I've been meaning to go grocery shopping, but you're welcome to whatever you find in the kitchen. I'll try to close shop early and run to the store a few blocks away to pick up some more formula and diapers." As April turned away to follow after Michelangelo, Allison weakly called, "Thank you, April." The redhead turned around and flashed her a smile before leaving. "And don't try to fight the zolpidem," Donatello warned. "That tends to have some bad side effects. Just let it take its course. We should be back by the time it wears off." He closed the door behind him, leaving Allison, Raphael, Splinter, and Rosalind alone.
"Splinter," Allison said groggily as she slowly stood up. "Are you sure you've handled babies before?" Splinter looked up at her and responded, "Yes, of course. It has been a few years, but I doubt children in this stage have changed very much. Would you prefer I entrust her to Raphael?"
Raphael took a step back. "Oh no. Not me. I don't play that 'Uncle Raph' game with the kids. I should be out doin' a search for the brat's dad so she can go home quick." Annoyed, Allison turned and tried to hit Raphael's arm, but missed and almost stumbled once again. Already used to her losing her balance, Raphael caught her easily. "Then perhaps," Splinter suggested, "you would better occupy yourself with caring for Miss Grayson."
Raphael blinked at Splinter's words as the sensei turned to sit on the sofa. "What? I don't play nurse, you know that." Woozily, Allison mumbled, "'Course not. You're too busy having other people play nurse for you." She could feel his resentful eyes on her, but did nothing about it. "Go," she heard Splinter's soft voice say. "Take her to April's room and be sure her arm is elevated." Though he was already grudgingly taking her back to the bedroom, Raphael asked, "And how the heck am I supposed to elevate her arm?" Stepping into April's room, Allison heard Splinter dryly reply, "Use your innovation."
Raphael silently led Allison to the bed, throwing back the covers as he nudged her into the bed. "She's nice," she murmured softly. Raphael asked, "Who is?" Crawling into the bed, Allison replied, "April." Raphael seemed to think about this for a moment before stating, "Eh, she's got her moments."
Looking at the pillows, Allison remarked, "I'm going to get her pillows wet with my hair." She could almost hear Raphael roll his eyes as he said, "Yeah, I'm sure she'll want ya to reimburse her for the damages." He surprised her by grabbing her uninjured arm and pulling her into a laying position. "Now go to sleep, will ya?"
She sat back up even as Raphael turned his back on her. "Raphael!" The turtle stopped, not looking at her. "What?" There was a long moment in which Allison simply couldn't form the words. Annoyed, he turned back to look at her and repeated his question. Finally, she softly managed, "What do you think happened to Rob?"
A bit of Raphael's anger seemed to dissipate, though he still looked away from her. "I dunno. I'm guessin' he ran off after he spilled the beans on where we were." Angry at the implication, Allison growled, "He didn't 'spill the beans!' The rats smelled me on him, that's all! And he wouldn't just run away, leaving Rosalind alone in his car."
Raphael glared up at her tiredly. "Hey, what do ya want me to say, huh? Give ya some optimistic bullshit on how he's probably okay and everything's all right? Tell ya to just close your eyes, relax, and when you wake up, he'll be standing right there in front of you? Or better yet, that this would have all been a dream? I don't play like that, okay? I ain't Donny. I ain't Leo. And I sure as hell ain't Mikey. I'm a realist, and if you don't like that, stop askin' me stupid questions, okay?"
Allison was struck dumb at the unexpectedly outburst, despite how lackluster it seemed to sound. Raphael clearly had not been trying to cut her with his words; he was only being truthful. Somehow, that hurt her even more. Looking down, she felt tears fall from her eyes. Her mind was muddied because of the drug and the confusion of all of the past events. Though Donatello had warned her against it, Allison felt the urge to resist the medication, to find some way to flush it out of her system so that she could run out and just do something. She didn't like this. She didn't have the control that she had always had, even through the darker stages of her life. She hated feeling so helpless and alone and scared. She hated-
She turned her head when she felt someone sit to her right on the bed. Wiping her tears away, she saw Raphael settling besides her. "Lie down," he told her calmly. He reached over and carefully took hold of her injured left arm with his right hand, and Allison found herself following his orders without questioning them for the first time since she had met him. As she slowly lay back, Raphael gradually pulled her arm towards him, causing her to turn towards him as her arm was gingerly draped across his stomach in an embrace.
Her face now less than an inch from Raphael's shoulder, Allison asked, "What are you doing?" His hand positioned lightly on her arm, Raphael whispered, "Elevating your arm. What does it look like I'm doing?" After a moment, Allison responded, "It looks like you're being nice."
Raphael let out a quietly sarcastic laugh. "That's just the drugs talkin'." Her vision going hazy once again, Allison rested her head against Raphael's shoulder. "I think you're right," she mumbled. Seeming to grow tired himself, Raphael answered, "Of course I'm right. Now please go to sleep."
"… that's funny."
"What is?"
"You said 'please.'"
"…drugs."
"Right," Allison said with a soft yawn. "Drugs." She shifted against him to get more comfortable, and her right hand inadvertently found his left. She unconsciously slipped her hand into his and was somewhat amazed that he took a hold of it, mindful of the bandages over it. After a moment, she closed her eyes and whispered, "Thank you." Without asking for what, Raphael surprised Allison by replying, "You're welcome."
Those quiet words followed Allison as she finally allowed herself to drift off to sleep.
