Lizzie and Mikey had lost spectacularly to Donnie two times in a row and were well on their way to a third, when April arrived through the fake sewer wall behind them. Donatello stood quickly, placing himself in front of Lizzie, who looked like a pile of rags in a chair anyway.
"Hey, April. How was the shop today?"
April raised an eyebrow, as Donnie had spoken just a little faster than usual. He led her toward his alcove, signaling to Mikey behind his back.
"It was great. I received an order for some Heian antiquities. I'll probably have to make a trip to Japan—I can try to sneak Splinter back with me, if he's still there. You guys needed to speak to me? Where's the little girl?"
Don, distracted, skipped past the comment about Splinter, and started rifling with some tools. "Uh, yeah—listen, something happened in the sewers and Raph and Leo have been gone for awhile"—
April, looking concerned, was about to speak, when Mikey's voice came from behind them.
"Raph toldja we'd get ya a flower girl," Mikey said, with Lizzie riding piggy-back on his shell. She watched April shyly over his shoulder.
April gasped. "Oh my god—she looks like a skeleton! Where'd you find her—what happened? Are Leo and Raph okay?" She ran forward checking on the girl, who burrowed into her rags.
Donnie lifted his arms to calm her. "I'm sure they're fine—they just went off for training while I took some blood samples. But, listen… we really aren't sure what to do with her. We think someone's after her, so we shouldn't go to foster services yet."
April took a few breaths. "When you said you had a ten-year-old, I didn't think you meant one who needed to be in a hospital. She looks like she hasn't eaten in weeks!"
Mikey smiled disarmingly. "Really? She did totally fine in shinaii practice today. And she's got a mean appetite."
April looked at Donnie. "You said you took blood samples. For what?"
"Her mother had abnormal DNA—I wanted to check her. But so far, there's been nothing odd," Donnie said, glancing over a spreadsheet with the girl's DNA profile.
April sighed, and smiled at Lizzie. "What's your name, sweetie?"
"Not sweet," Lizzie said shortly, defiantly—her face was slate and slightly wild. "Raphi says I'm Lizzie."
April giggled. "That's kind of cute. I would expect Raph to give her a strange name—like Blade or something."
Donnie chuckled. "At least Mikey didn't get a say—probably be something from My Little Ponies, just to makes us all nuts."
April patted his shell. "I suppose you guys will have to keep her here until whoever's after her… isn't anymore. Or me and Casey could take her off your hands for a while."
Mikey protested immediately. "No—hey, it's fine! We don't mind havin' the dudette around… you and Casey just got your own place, and you're plannin' for the big day, and stuff…"
Donnie gave him a look for silence, and folded his arms. He found the offer, of course, tempting; the girl disturbed their family bubble and was a source of possible contention, particularly between himself and Raph, and Raph and Leo—something the older brothers certainly didn't need. But on logical reflection…
"That's very kind, April, but she's probably safer here. It might be the Foot after her, and we don't want to make you and Casey targets for them—you've already lost your apartment and store once to that. I'm sure we'll figure it out."
Mikey looked shocked, but smiled hugely, and began to sing. "Donnie likes the kid, Donnie likes the kid…"
Donatello rolled his eyes. "Will you please act like the sixteen-year-old you are, and not the ten-year-old she is?"
Lizzie perked up on Mikey's back. "I don't sing."
Donnie smiled at April. "She's not really much of a conversationalist. But she's been through a lot."
Lizzie's eyes were following him fiercely, even when Mikey began spinning in circles to give her a ride.
"Giddy-up, dudette! Ninja cowgirl!"
April whispered to Don. "Why does she stare at you like that?"
Donnie shrugged. "I think she believes that I know where Raph is, which I don't. Because I do 'science', apparently."
She nudged him playfully. "Or maybe she knows how uncomfortable you are around her."
Donatello blinked rapidly. "That's… that's preposterous. She doesn't even know me."
April laughed. "It's not like you're some hermit scientist living in a lab on top of a hill, Donnie, who people see maybe once every ten years! You're a kid—you're sixteen! She's ten! It's not that hard for her to see right through you." She kissed his cheek as he looked around, trying to find something to focus himself on embarrassedly. "I sure can."
If Donatello wasn't so fiercely green, he would have flushed bright crimson; people often got the point when he kept them at a distance and maintained that barrier like a well-tended gate between two properties; if they got him, people usually didn't say so—unfortunately for Donnie, these "people" were mostly his family, and a handful of humans. Mikey didn't analyze people; Raph had too much to deal with working himself out; Master Splinter had always told Donnie the same things about himself: don't be afraid, make yourself heard, use what you have to help your family. Leo saw the dark in him, and told him every once in a while, but not often; this was a source of unresolvedness between them. Donatello did not enjoy feeling so exposed in front of Leo, nor in front of April for that matter, especially because he did not always believe he could see through them equally as clearly. When this small layer of his own delusions fell away—when he ceased being the eyes behind the invisible glass, seeing but unseen—a chill ran through him, telling his brain two very different yet thoroughly instinctual things: run away or do something. This time, as he usually did, he chose the latter, and picked up the DNA profile again.
"You should… um, take a look, at the mother's DNA specs. They're extremely interesting—quite a discovery really, though perhaps an anomaly." As he spoke, his voice grew in confidence. Anomaly. DNA. Discovery. Such an easy flow to slip back into, such a beautiful set, a ballet that ensued of prescript words. An alcove for the brain.
Mikey had finally got the girl laughing from the spinning, going clockwise before suddenly turning in the other direction and making them both so dizzy that he finally stumbled backwards into the couch. He and Lizzie landed in a huge heap.
"Whoa. That was awesome—but I swear I can feel the earth actually revolving," Mikey said, looking up at the ceiling."
Lizzie was a pile of clean clothes with her legs over the back of the couch, staring up as well. "That be—um, is…um—that was fun…" she managed, smiling contentedly. "Dizzy… Mikey, dizzy?" It was more words than she'd uttered all day, but Mikey didn't seem surprised in the least.
"Majorly, dudette. Havin' an argument with the pizza, actually. But I usually win."
April and Donnie shook their heads from the entrance to the alcove, and Donnie smiled at his brother's antics. Mikey was ever content to put his pride to the side and be the fool for others should the need arise. He made it look so easy.
"How do you do it, Mikey? You can just look like an idiot for the edification of others."
Mikey scoffed. "Says the guy who wears those dumb goggles all the time. I swear, the ladies up on Fifth Avenue would, like, call the police on you for that."
Donatello laughed. "Paying no attention at all to the fact that I'm a five foot turtle who can talk and do discreet mathematics."
"So not even joking," Mikey said, with the utmost seriousness. "The police. Or the National Guard. You can imagine what they do to me."
April made a mock-frightened face at Donnie where Mikey couldn't see them, and picked up the specs on the murdered woman. "I wish we had the information for this woman, to find out if she had any family for Lizzie to go to. Did she have any identification at all?"
"Nothing. If she did, the Foot took it."
April licked her lips, then walked quietly to intercept Lizzie's view of the ceiling. The girl watched her blankly.
"Lizzie—I know this might seem hard, but at least your mother's name"—
Lizzie shook her head fervently. "If I don't say nothing, they won't want me dead. Kay?"
Donnie almost dropped the specs; Mikey's eyes had grown wide, watching her from his relative position. April swallowed.
"So—you did see something you weren't supposed to see. But they didn't experiment on you?"
Lizzie drew her lips inside her mouth, furthering the image of a skeleton, and squinting savagely at the ceiling.
"Hey, April…" Mikey said, tentatively yet somehow firm, knowing that in some way he had the last word. "Maybe you should give it a break for now, huh?"
April nodded, surprised. "Yeah. Of course." She then moved back to look in Donnie's microscope at the partially degraded tissue samples he'd collected—things tended to break down more quickly in the sewers.
"I'm going to have to refrigerate these," Donnie introspected. "But Leo and Raph will murder me if I put them in the fridge, and I don't have a secondary cooling unit."
"Send Mikey up for dry ice, and make an insulated box," April said. "That's the only thing I can think of, really. You won't be able to keep them for long."
"I know," Donnie said, "But they're just so interesting. How often does one come across a mutation of this caliber in a lifetime?"
April laughed. "Other than looking in the mirror?"
While she examined the strange lymphocytes under the microscope, the sound of the door opening into the den disturbed her from her thoughts. Donnie stepped out of the alcove, while Mikey looked sideways off the couch at the entrants.
"Holy… crap," Mikey said, sounding like he was in utter disbelief. "What happened to you two?"
Donatello dropped the specs he was holding as well as his goggles, as Leo and Raph stumbled in on each other's shoulders. It was uncertain who was supporting whom; after they got in the door and looked around for a moment, out of breath, they jointly took two steps, jointly drooped, and, at last, jointly fell on the ground. They were both caked with blood—their own and each other's—as well as pearls of sweat and grime. The two massive gashes on Leo's right shoulder were oozing yellow-white pus, bacteria-ridden and mixed fervently with red. A somewhat cleaner wound on Raphael's face continued to bleed, even though the wounds must have been more than an hour old; he looked drawn and pale from blood loss, gasping for oxygen.
Donnie looked between them, evidently unsure who to deal with first; Raph pointed to Leo, who, seeming to see Donnie's indecision, shoved his brother's shoulder away from him to reveal his shell.
"Dammit, Raphael!" Donatello said, as he dragged him to his feet and started leading him to the table. "Can't I go five minutes without having to sew you back together again? You're like the damn Scarecrow!"
Mikey, who was on his feet, and helping Leo the best he could towards the table, scoffed weakly. "Uh—more like Humpty-Dumpty, dude. That is gonna take some major shellacking. Huh-huh—get it?" His older brothers each sent him a dirty look, except Raphael, who chuckled weakly, feeling stupid and light-headed enough to find his baby brother funny. His eyes connected with the small brown ones looking over the back of the couch at him.
"Hey, Lizzie—what's the haps? Can I still be Han Solo?" he asked gesturing to his slashed face. "Or is it Frankenstein now?"
Lizzie vaulted over the back of the couch, just as April appeared from the dark alcove, watching gently. The little girl drew, in small spurts, closer to Raphael, her ball of clothing swaying around her. Donnie looked up from examining his brother's heavily cracked shell. Lizzie bit her lip as she drew close enough to touch one dry spot on Raph's face, and see into his eyes that watched out from that mask of blood.
"After the carbonite," she said, decidedly, and sat down, very resolutely, slightly under the table and near his chair.
Raphael remained staring fixedly at the spot where she had been, and on instinct his brothers went about busying themselves; Leo sat and directed Mikey in getting hot water and rags, April quickly looked for rubbing alcohol or other astringents, Donnie measured the blades and the length buried in the shell, while Raph's eyes filled, this time not with blood, but with salt water. There were times in his life when that war that he made of his existence created of him an inner monster—now he looked like one as well. It crushed down on him, like the metal youkai.
Donnie took a deep breath behind him. "Well, little brother… from the width and thickness of the blades, I'd say you've got a good five inches wedged in there. A little more and you'd probably be paralyzed. Good job."
"Hey," Leo said shortly. "Just leave him alone about it, okay?"
The teapot whistled, and April and Mikey began cleaning Leo's wounds properly.
April shook her head. "Leo… these're infected ten ways from Sunday—what on earth were you guys doing?"
"Twin blades, dude," Mikey said. "Definitely not a sparring match with Raph. His aim's not this good, anyway."
Donnie went to his alcove for a moment; when he returned, Leo stood abruptly.
"And you are not thinking about giving him a shot!" Leo reprimanded, as his brother returned with a syringe. Donnie sighed.
"It's a pain killer—have you even seen his shell? I've gotta take the blades out, and he's gonna be in a world of pain without this; the blades hit flesh, and the whole crack's putting pressure on the wounds."
Raph gritted his teeth. "Just do it. Get it over with."
Leo looked panicked. "But, Raph, he"—
"It's my decision, Leo! My shell!" Raph asserted.
Donnie smiled somewhat triumphantly at Leo, who was glaring blue murder at him, and deftly pricked his younger brother with the needle. Leonardo excused himself, and was promptly sick again outside the den, to chuckles from Don and Mikey.
He returned to see Raph slowly feeling the pain-killer kick in and Donatello preparing himself for the effort of pulling out each blade at the correct angle so as not to injure the tissue further.
"Okay, Raphi," he said, rubbing his hands together. "The first one's going to make you want to hurl, probably. On the second one… you might faint. Let's hope not. The whole crack will shift when I get them both out, but the pressure should come off the wounds. You'll feel a whole lot better when I'm done."
Raph chuckled. "Seein' as how Leo's got the hurlin' outta the way for me, the first one should be a cake-walk."
Lizzie held onto Raph's leg as though bracing him; April took Mikey's shoulder, who was watching in rather abject horror; Leo came forward, and took Raph's hand—his other one was gripping the table edge as he looked forward with that same insane focus he used in battle, grinding his teeth. Leo twisted a rag together tightly and put it between his jaws, receiving a grateful nod. Don placed his hands on the first blade, set higher up, and further from the deepest part of the crack.
"Get ready—one"—
"Two"—Leo said, softly, crouching down to look into Raph's eyes, as he closed them tightly.
"THREE!"
Donatello yanked on the blade, bringing it sluicing out in one quick movement, and Raphael gripped Leo's hand so hard he was sure it would break—so Leo returned it, to remind him he was there. Raph yelled briefly into the bite, before breathing hard and visibly working to bring himself under control. Sweat made clean rivulets on his face as it ran through the dried blood, drops landing on his shoulders like rusty rainwater.
Donatello held his breath, examining the blade; it was clean, save the tip, which meant that the second one had done most of the damage; he dropped it in a tray for study, then placed his hand on the second one, feeling his brother start violently under him as he put pressure on it. Some force had been relieved from the shell, and blood ran more freely from between some of the cracks.
"Alright, little brother. Just… just close your eyes, okay?"
Raph took the rag out of his mouth and nodded; Donatello passed a glance to Leo, who readied himself.
"I'm taking it out on three, Raphi—one…. Two…."
Raphael did not scream; he made little more noise than a breathless, choking half-gasp when his eyes opened, as in surprise from someone shoving him from behind. His body tensed; his face paled significantly, going somehow gray-green, and his pupils grew very, very small. His glance was on something unseen, as the eyes fogged over and he slumped forward in a dead faint, into Leo's arms.
There had been another tremendous cracking sound as the second blade came forth, this time of the shell momentarily growing round again from the tug; when the blade was gone, however, it collapsed; Donnie had seen the webbing of connective tissue underlying the dry exterior, and a maze of blood began trickling out, rolling through the various cracks and slashes in his brother's shell.
Lizzie got up when Raphael fainted, and went to Leo's side, as he got him onto his shoulder.
"Liz"—Leo said, grunting from the effort, "get a pillow and we'll situate him on the rug, huh?"
She saluted him and ran to do her task, making him smile; Leo then looked over at Mikey.
Michelangelo still had his hands fervently clapped in front of his eyes, and April was trying to coax them down.
"Mikey—he's okay, it's gonna be alright…"
"Ow…" was all Mikey could say, empathetically. "Ow, ow, ow!"
When Leo had gotten Raph safely onto the rug to come to, with Lizzie sitting cross-legged beside him, he came back to the kitchen, where Donnie was examining the second, rather blood-soaked and slightly dented blade. Mikey had retreated to sit on the stairs, shaking and looking very sick, and April had joined him there, in silent comfort.
"Well—it did him damage, but it's nice to see he did some back," Donatello mused, turning the blade to show how it was angled quite a bit to the right from one point of bend. "Explains why, even with the pain-killer, it hurt like hell." He smiled at Leo. "But let's get you sewed up now, huh?" and brandished a large sewing needle, making his elder brother stagger.
Leonardo, however, knowing he had no choice, sat down and squeezed his eyes shut, trying his hardest not to think of the pricking sensation and what it owed itself to; however, after a minute, he realized he felt nothing, and that Don had numbed the area completely for him. He breathed a sigh of relief. The entire room, however, seemed extremely cold—more so than the sewers ever did, and particularly the den. Despite this, however, he seemed to be growing sleepy, as though it were very warm and humid. Donatello felt his forehead, then his arms.
"Fever, big brother—you're infected, all right. Might end up being tetanus."
This, of course, translated to Leonardo as shots. He did not, however, have the energy to fight with it, now that Raph was safe and he had only to worry about his own ills; he could only pray to the ancestors or to the gods or the bodhisattvas or Amida Butsu himself that he would be blessedly asleep when Donnie started getting crazy with the needles. His eyes drooped, but he looked at Mikey for help.
"Mikey—little brother, please keep an eye on Don for me, huh?"
Michelangelo swallowed, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and rose to the occasion, joining them again at the table, while Leo began falling asleep. Mikey smiled at Donatello as if to say, "Hey, if it makes him feel better…" and Donatello didn't argue with the terms. He instead worked diligently and a bit sadly, preparing a strong tetanus shot, knowing he was in the proverbial doghouse, and wishing for his brother's trust more than he had ever had cause to his entire life—because he'd always had it, so naturally.
April came over, quietly, and used the hot rags to start mopping the blood from Leo's arms and shell. "I'm surprised they didn't get stuck together with all of this," she said, lightly. "Half of it's probably Raph's." She came upon the handcuff on Leo's left wrist and the severed chain, and glanced up at him. "There's one of these on Raphael's wrist, too."
Leo smiled, hazily, his eyes still closed. "I know. I put it there. It took a bisento to separate us."
Donatello frowned. "But—why?"
Leonardo's temperature had risen, and he seemed somewhat out of it. "Hmm… tough love. Maybe by now the hothead's figured out that he's stuck with me." He then laughed, a bit hysterically. "I'm… I'm soaked in my brother's blood, aren't I?"
April squeezed out the very red rag pragmatically, and dipped it in hot water. "His and yours. I'd like to know how exactly you two managed to get like this."
"I was training him to work with me—I basically forced him to fight in tandem. Then the Foot came. We went to see Karai. There was this maze of death to get there and this metal demon thing. It slashed us both pretty good, then trapped us in an alcove. We almost had it down—but it had one more hit. Raph just turned around and took it, right in the shell. Like a maniac."
Donnie nodded; he was a middle brother too, and had a moment of understanding. "He stopped you from protecting him. Well I'll be damned."
Leo's feverish explanation stopped there, as he slipped further towards sleep. Don had finished with the stitches and April had gotten all the blood off him—after a compress and a sterile bandage, they stood him up and got him to his bed, listening to him mumbling incoherent sleep talk.
Lizzie remained cross-legged by Raph, and Mikey joined her, sitting on the couch. Together, they shared the understanding of the younger—to have one's fate taken from one's hands, to have to wrestle it free on occasion, to feel the free air. Raph began to stir from his faint, and his shell stirred with him. The pressure was gone, and the real pain was just beginning.
