A/N: Okay, here is the next chapter guys. I just want to say: please don't kill me.
Donatello was woken by the disturbingly shrill beeping of his shell cell at four o'clock in the morning. For the millionth time he asked himself what drove him to use that particularly grating sound. Though at four in the morning, pretty much everything sounded that way.
Apparently he had fallen asleep in his lab, again, and his muscles vehemently protested the awkward position he had settled into. He swiped clumsily at his still shrilling cell and just managed to fumble into his hand before his searching fingers chased it off the edge.
"'ello?" he slurred, trying to clear the fog from his mind.
"Don-," came a strained voice on the other end, "Don, I- he's here, Donny, I found 'im."
"What? Raph?" asked Donatello scrubbing distractedly at his eyes, trying to connect what was undisputedly his brother's voice with that particular tone. Raphael had never sounded like that before. He sounded …desperate. "Raph. Where are you?"
"April's, I'm on her roof and- God, get over here Donny, there's so much blood and I-I don't know what to do." Donatello's thoughts immediately crystallized at the mention of injury.
"Raph, listen, if there is bleeding try and find the source and apply pressure- get it under control. If you start to feel dizzy or disoriented try and stay conscious. We'll be there as soon as we can," Don said, doing his best to reassure his brother as he scrambled to dump all the supplies he would need to patch up his brother's battle wounds into his bag while at the same time grabbing blindly for his Bo and yelling for Michelangelo. So frantic was he to prevent the loss of yet another brother that he almost missed Raphael's next words.
"It ain't me, I'm not hurt." That caused Don to pause for a moment. Who was hurt? Surely Raph knew to call the paramedics if Casey ever got banged up hunting Purple Dragons. They'd done it before, and if April ever got hurt she'd be in much better hands with the human authorities as well. What was Raph thinking? Donatello was about to open his mouth and tell Raphael to stop wasting time and call 911 when Raphael spoke once more, his words both freezing Don's heart and causing a warm fountain of hope to spring up and sear the inside of his plastron as his heart tried to escape his chest.
"Don. It's Leo."
A/N: Heh, so, yes. I'm sorry, I couldn't help but end it there! But, uh, any reviews would be greatly appreciated. She said quickly and sincerely, bare seconds before ducking into an open manhole and disappearing into the sewers. With luck she could elude her pursuers until she had something of value with which to barter for the remains of her pathetic existence.