CHAPTER 25: RECOVERY

The aftermath of the escape from the Technodrome.

By the time the six battle weary teenagers stumbled out of the Shellraiser and back into the lair, they could barely keep their eyes open. Their adrenaline had long since crashed and their bodies were feeling the full extent of the battering each had taken. Both Splinter and Kirby welcomed their children back, first with the relief that no one was missing, then concern over their injuries.

"Dad?" April said, bewildered but happily throwing herself into Kirby's arms. "What are you doing here?"

Kirby held her close and helped her walk to the sunken living room, noticing how she clutched her side. "Splinter and I have started a support group for fathers of adventurous teens who risk their lives to save the world," he said with a small smile.

"Boys!" Splinter rushed to his sons and let them surround him, struggling against the press of their collective weight leaning in on him.

"We have completed our missions, Sensei," Leonardo said solemnly.

"You have done well," Splinter answered. "Now, come and rest." He coaxed them to the main area, trying to keep them steady in turns.

Casey held his arms tightly around his ribs, trailing Splinter and the turtles. The absence of his own parents stung suddenly. He lowered his eyes to the floor, his throat tight.

The turtles removed their padding and belts, their weapons clanging to the floor. Casey removed his boots and modified sporting equipment and added them to the haphazard pile. He felt a tentative hand on his arm.

"Are you hurt?" asked Kirby.

Casey just stared up at him for a minute mutely, surprised that Kirby was genuinely worried for him, not just for the fact that he wore April's body. "Just some bruises," he mumbled finally.

Splinter had stacked pillows and blankets on the couch and pushed the coffee table aside to maximize their space. His sons took one of each and collapsed onto the floor in the pit. Following their lead, Casey did the same, sprawling out next to Raphael on the outskirts of the tight-knit brothers. Raphael settled an arm over him and started snoring gently into his hair. Just before Casey passed out he thought that maybe the bonds between the family you chose really could be stronger than those of the family you were born with. And for once, he was at peace with that.

Splinter retrieved their first aid supplies and directed Kirby to fill a couple of basins with warm water. He sat next to Donatello on the floor, who was the only one still struggling to stay awake. He was lying on his plastron, head tilted towards Splinter on his pillow.

"I'm sorry, Sensei," Donatello mumbled, his eyes heavy. "I just can't move anymore."

Splinter shushed him, pushing the edge of a pair of blunt-tipped scissors between his wrappings and the skin of his wrist, cutting the stained material away deftly. "This was my job long before it became yours," Splinter assured him. "Sleep now, let someone take care of you for a change." He made sure Donatello was fully asleep before cutting away the wraps supporting his ankle on his injured leg. The blast that had caught his calf had also burned through the very top of his wrap. The frayed fabric had partially stuck to the wound and he needed to remove it very carefully.

Splinter's sensitive ear swiveled towards Kirby, who took a sharp intake of breath after finding a similar wound across April's left side just above her hip.

"Like this," Splinter said gently, gesturing to the wound on his son's calf. He cleaned and disinfected it, applied a soothing burn gel and then bandaged it loosely.

Kirby followed his example, treating the raised, burnt flesh gingerly before taping a square of gauze over it. Splinter moved on to Leonardo, who had an ugly bruise across the back of his head. Kirby tried to keep his shaking hands steady as he pulled her shirt back down over the bandage. He checked Casey over, in his daughter's body. As he had told Kirby earlier, he did not seem to be visibly injured besides bruises and small cuts. It was a small relief to his frayed nerves.

"How do you do this?" Kirby asked Splinter. "I thought I could handle it but they tried to kill my daughter. Your sons."

Splinter could hear Kirby's heart beat erratically and the edge in his voice. "I do it because I must," he said calmly, not allowing his own anger at the Kraang to creep into his voice. "Just as they do. If not for their bravery, none of us would be here right now. We would have succumbed to the invasion last year."

"Why does it have to be them?" In a moment of weakness Kirby thought about how their lives had been turned upside down ever since coming into contact with the Hamato clan.

Splinter gave him a patient and gentle look, his soft brown eyes those of a man who had also suffered, who had also lost his wife, and who also wished something better than this for his children. "We all have our own destinies to fulfill. Some are greater than others." He looked away from Kirby, affectionately wiping away a streak of blood from Michelangelo's snoring mouth.

"I'm sorry," Kirby said, as if Splinter had read his thoughts. Really, meeting April had changed their lives and put them on the front lines of the Kraang war.

Kirby had seen how Splinter tended to each of his sons and cut away Raphael's wraps while Splinter was busy with Michelangelo. Raphael's knuckles were bruised and bloody, and Kirby cleaned and bandaged them.

"Nothing like the sleep extreme adrenal fatigue brings," Kirby said lightly, trying to smile. The six teenagers were practically comatose.

"Indeed," agreed Splinter.

After putting the medical supplies away, the two fathers sat together on the couch, lights dim and drinking chamomile tea. Kirby looked over the mess of limbs, shells, cushions and colorful blankets. "Are we going to leave them like that?" he asked.

"It would be impossible to get them to their rooms in their current state," Splinter answered, looking over to the stairway.

Kirby followed his gaze, noticing for the first time that the steps did not reach the floor. They would have to jump or pull themselves up to get onto the first step. "Ah. Well, they do seem content."

Splinter looked over them fondly. "When they were small, they used to call it the nest. Whenever something troubling happened to us, or one of them was having nightmares, they would ask for the nest. Then we would pull all of our bedding out and curl up together like that. It warms me to see them still take comfort in each other." He sighed and sunk back into the couch, sipping his tea with a smile at the memory of their small bodies cuddled against him.

"When April was little, she had a lot of nightmares," Kirby said. "She would come and curl up between my wife and I in the middle of the night. By morning she had always somehow managed to turn the wrong way on the bed, and her feet would be on our pillows and in our faces."

Splinter chuckled.

April turned into Donatello in her sleep and rested a hand on his blackened shell.

"They are very fond of one another," Kirby noted.

Feeling slightly uneasy, Splinter shifted his gaze to Kirby. "Does that…distress you?" he asked carefully.

"The idea of your daughter dating anybody is distressing to all fathers everywhere," Kirby said with a small laugh.

Splinter relaxed again, the smile returning to his features. "We should get some rest. They are going to be ravenous in the morning."

Kirby smiled. "It just so happens that Sunday breakfast is one of my specialties."

ooooooo

April awoke in stages, her senses coming alive one at a time. First she heard and then smelled the sizzle of bacon. Her father was humming the way he always did when he cooked. Her brow furrowed in confusion. Air caressed her palm, first cool, then warm. She cracked her eyes open blearily. Her arm was stretched over Michelangelo and her hand was only a couple of inches above his mouth. She tried to roll over but met resistance at her back. A quick glance revealed that she was wedged in between Mikey and Donatello. On the floor? Donatello was face down in his pillow, and April was far more concerned with how he could possibly be breathing in that position than how easily she could have been crushed between their shells.

Pain shot through her center as she brought herself up into a sitting position and everything rushed back to her. "Ow, ow, ow," she hissed. She rested an elbow on Donatello's carapace and inspected the bandage on her side, having no recollection of being taken care of. All of her muscles were tight and sore. Donatello had thrown a leg over hers, pinning them.

Leonardo was the next to wake, looking about groggily and struggling to pry his arm out from under Raphael's head. He seemed to get a whiff of the food in the air before turning a deeper shade of green and rushing off down the hall unsteadily. With Leonardo gone, Raphael groped around blindly for an actual pillow to rest his head on, then pulled Casey closer against him. The sight might have been unsettling to April if she wasn't holding back a laugh at the fact that Raphael made a really cute big spoon.

April shook Donnie hard enough to rock the edge of his shell into the back of Raphael's, but he didn't stir. "Don, move your leg," she whined tiredly, earning only a grumble.

Michelangelo shifted and pushed Donatello's leg off of hers with his foot. "He needs to hear his coffee grinding to get him moving on a morning like this," Michelangelo said before yawning loudly.

Splinter came into the living room with Leonardo draped over him and settled him on the couch. Leonardo groaned and spun his blue mask around so that it covered his eyes.

"You okay, bro?" Michelangelo asked, instantly on his feet.

"He has a concussion," Splinter replied for Leonardo. "He needs quiet and rest," he added pointedly.

Knowing Donatello was a lost cause, Michelangelo hovered over Raphael. "Aw, they're so cute. Big, bad Raphie likes to snuggle," he cooed.

"Shut up, Mikey," Raphael warned, eyes still closed.

Casey sat up groggily beside him and winced. "I feel like my ribcage was crushed by a metal alien tentacle. Oh, wait, that happened," he said dryly.

April snorted. "Just another Saturday…"

Michelangelo shook Raphael, who halfheartedly tried to swat him away.

"Get up already," Michelangelo said cheerfully next to his ear.

"Why do you even care? Go away!"

"I don't want to come out of the shower for breakfast and still have you laying here stinking up the place," Michelangelo jested.

"I'm gonna blacken your other eye," Raphael growled.

Michelangelo ignored him. "Seriously, dude, it smells like a Kraang crawled up your shell and died. A month ago."

Raphael finally opened his eyes and scowled at his brother, Casey and April breaking into painful giggles. "Can't you take a day off from being a pest?" Raphael asked irritably. "You're pretty spry for a guy that got electrocuted last night."

Splinter's ears clamped down against his head and the turtles both went silent. It was a lot more difficult for him to be nonchalant with bits of information like that.

Raphael cleared his throat. "Right, showers," he said quickly, getting up and disappearing with Michelangelo.

They had a very slow and easy-going morning, each taking their turn to clean up and then help themselves to the breakfast feast that Kirby had graciously prepared for all of them. Donatello was the last to rise, and sure enough, it was the sound of coffee beans grinding that urged him into movement.

Kirby found himself very much at ease and welcomed among the unique family. He and Splinter sipped the rat's special calming blend of tea as more and more details of their children's dangerous adventure were revealed. They spoke excitedly about their narrow escapes, how they were vastly outnumbered at every turn.

Michelangelo eventually took over the story, embellishing his heroics that allowed them all to escape. "I told you all the video games would pay off one day, Sensei," he said with a cheeky smile. "If I hadn't played so much Zombie Apocalypse 2, we would have never been able to hold them off!"

"Ahem!" said Casey, elbowing Michelangelo in the arm.

"Oh yeah, and Casey helped," he amended.

"Helped? I took out way more droids than you did," Casey scoffed.

"No way. Plus, I took out the Prime's eye," Michelangelo challenged.

"I beat your high score in the game three days ago," Casey retorted.

"What?!"

ooooooo

The Orb of Consciousness was about the size of a tennis ball. It was all white with a single black splotch on the top center of the sphere, which was smooth and hard like a marble. April was entranced by it. No matter how you rolled it, the black splotch always stayed on top, despite the fact that it was completely solid. She traced her finger over the seamless surface. No liquid within, yet the spot moved, always facing up.

April cocked her head to the side and studied it. "I thought it would be bigger."

Leonardo giggled from Donatello's examining cot as a light was shined into each of his eyes. "That's not something I expected a girl to ever say to us."

April's mouth dropped open from where she sat on Donatello's desk chair with the Orb.

"How about we play the quiet game for now, Leo?" Donatello said, feeling the back of his neck and cheeks heat up. "Look straight ahead, tell me if any of this hurts."

Leonardo did as he was told and Donatello pressed the pad of a finger along multiple points down his neck.

Leonardo just stared blankly with a small smile on his face. "Karai saved us," he said. "The bombs. I'm gonna marry her if the world doesn't end."

"Yes, I'm sure you can find a nice chapel and someone to pronounce you mutant and wife, then you can live happily ever after hoping she doesn't kill you in your sleep one night," Donatello muttered, inspecting the actual bruise on Leo's head.

"That would be so nice," Leonardo sighed.

Donatello impatiently passed his brother some painkillers and a glass of water. Leonardo took them and swallowed them back, then started gulping down the rest of the water. "No, not all of it!" warned Donatello to no avail. He watched Leonardo cautiously. "How do you feel?"

"I feel great!" he said happily. He hopped off the cot and took a couple of steps before realizing he had no balance.

Donatello caught him, the movement jolting his brother and making the water swish horribly in his stomach. Leonardo stiffened, eyes wide, then dove for a garbage can to throw up in. Donatello looked back at April and sighed. "So much for the painkillers."

"How long is he going to be like this?" April asked.

"Another day or two maybe?" he answered.

Leonardo sat wretchedly on the floor, shivering, his giddy mood swing apparently at an end. "My ears are ringing again," he said sadly.

Raphael poked his head into the lab from the open doorway. "Everything okay? I thought I heard…" He saw Leonardo sitting miserably, clutching the garbage can, and frowned, entering and crouching down next to him. "You gonna make it, Fearless?"

"Make it where?" Leonardo asked, confused.

"Never mind. Let's get you back to Splinter's room to get some rest." Raphael helped him up and led him out of the lab.

"Make sure he has a bucket," Donatello called after them. He turned to April and offered up a round, plastic container of a homemade balm he had concocted. "Would you mind? Then I'll change your dressing."

"Of course not," April said with a smile. She took the container and sat cross-legged on the cot. Donatello joined her, his shell to her and his legs off the end of the bed.

Donatello and Raphael had come under particularly heavy fire during their raid, and both had burns to their shells. Once the black streaks had been washed away, the damage had been revealed. In three different places, Donatello's shell had pinkish-white spots where the surface of the scute had been burnt away. They were very sensitive to the touch and could easily become infected. The balm Donatello had created for shell wounds was thick and waxy, providing a second skin over the raw points. It also contained ingredients to promote healing and growth, as well as an antibiotic. He had given Casey another container with instructions for Raph, since there was no way his stubborn brother was going to sit still long enough to let Donatello apply the stuff.

He exhaled sharply as April applied some to the first wound.

"Did that hurt?" she asked timidly.

"It's cold," he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

She nudged the back of his arm playfully. "So when are we going to start on the Neuro-Switcher?"

"I was planning on starting today, actually. Eager to get back?" he asked, his lips curling up in a smile.

"Yes!"

"Any special plans?" he asked coyly.

She coated the second wound on his shell with the waxy substance and blushed. "Are you flirting with me?"

"Maybe." He peeked back over his shell with a grin.

"What happened to my shy, innocent Donnie?" she asked.

"He never got kissed."