INJURIES

1995

8 Hours, 39 Minutes

SPLINTER:

"Are you in much pain?" I asked.

Donatello sighed deeply. "I'm okay. I just... I think my arm might be broken. Er, fractured. Not really broken."

"What's the difference?" Michaelangelo asked, staring down at the bandages around his arm.

"Hairline fracture doesn't cut all the way through the bone," Donatello explained. "It doesn't need to be set or casted, really. I just gotta be careful not to do too much with this arm because the bone will break easily along that crack." He cringed slightly as he moved his arm to his lap. "And it hurts like hell."

I handed him the cup in my hands and he took it gratefully, leaning back against the chair. His eyes closed and he relaxed. "Sensei?"

I turned. "Yes, Raphael?"

"How long you gonna keep us here before we can go kick his ass?"

I glared at the defiant look on my student's face. "You are weak and injured and in no condition to fight the Shredder."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he answered coldly. "That's why I asked. When?"

"Raph, knock it off," Donatello sighed. "Just take a few days off, okay? It won't kill you."

"Fuck you."

"Iie," I shot. "Stop now."

They glared at each other for a moment. Raphael looked away first. "Sorry, Master," he mumbled half-heartedly.

I inspected the wound on his shoulder. "You must be careful, Raphael," I warned. "In your weakened state, your anger could be very detrimental to you."

He said nothing, but cringed slightly as I prodded at the deep cut. It was not infected as of yet, and that was good. I rewrapped it and stepped back. "Where is Leonardo?" I was well aware that he was the only one of my four students I had not seen this morning.

"In the dojo," Michaelangelo slurred, flipping through channels on the television without stopping long enough to allow the sound to begin.

"He's been there all morning," Donatello added.

The words concerned me. Leonardo knew better than to exert himself when he was wounded. I hoped he was not practicing.

Leonardo was in the dojo, but he was not practicing. He was sitting on the mat, eyes closed but not in meditation. He was not concentrating; he seemed to be trying to relax. His eyes opened slowly and followed the edge of the mat and back, for no particular reason. Though he was not trying to concentrate, it was perfectly obvious that something was consuming his thoughts.

"What are you thinking, Leonardo?"

He looked up, startled. "Oh," he stammered. "Sensei. I didn't hear you come in."

"You are deeply troubled."

He forced a smile. "Not... troubled really," he struggled. "I mean, I am but... I wasn't thinking about that."

I sat down on the floor beside him, curling my legs and tail underneath me. "What were you thinking?"

He shook his head slightly, and breathed deep. "There was... a woman there," he whispered. "She called herself Miss Anna." He looked up and met my eyes. "She talked to the children over the PA system. Told them what to do. I had to pull her from the building because she didn't want to leave."

"She sounds very dedicated," I observed.

"Hai," he sighed, looking away. "And I can't..." He struggled to find words to explain what he did not understand. "I can't stop thinking about her," he continued, turning to stare at me again. "Not like... I'm interested in her or anything but... Well, yes, I am, but not a relationship. It's just... I can't shake this weird feeling like I know her from somewhere."

"Perhaps you have met her before."

He shook his head. "Iie. I haven't. I would remember... when I'm trying so hard to."

"Perhaps you should try less hard."

He sighed and stared down at the floor. "Hai," he breathed. "Perhaps."

ANNA:

"Anna? Oh, Anna, wake up, dear."

I moaned softly as I woke up. I realized that I was in pain. "Ow," I moaned, raising my hand to the back of my neck. It was cramped terribly.

"Anna, wake up. The doctor wants to have a look at you."

I felt sunlight in my eyes and realized that I had fallen asleep at the window. What time was it? "Oh, Mrs. Collins, I'm fine," I mumbled, trying to rub out the kink in my neck. "I don't need a doctor."

"Well, he wants to see you anyways. Now wake up. Why are you over here? You should sleep in bed."

I glanced at the clock as the world came into focus. It was almost one in the afternoon. I sat up, pushing away from the wall, and moaned slightly. "Is Samantha awake?"

"Yes, dear."

I managed a smile as I exhaled a deep sigh of relief. "Good. That's good."

"Anna Palmer?"

I looked up and saw a man in a light blue uniform with a white jacket stepping into the room. He was an older man, with slightly graying hair and dark eyes. He wore a stethescope around his neck and had a clipboard in his hand. "Yes, that's me," I answered hesitantly.

"I'm Dr. Allens. How are you feeling today?"

I ran my fingers through my hair. "I'm okay."

"You look like you got some pretty bad cuts there," he pointed out. I looked down at my knees. They were scraped, but a few of the cuts were deeper.

"I... fell," I stammered.

He nodded. "I see. Have you thought of maybe putting some kind of antibiotic on them before they get infected?"

I stared at him. In all that had happened in the past twelve hours, the thought hadn't even crossed my mind. "No, I... I haven't yet."

He smiled warmly. "Are you allergic to any medications, Ms. Palmer?"

I shook my head mutely. "Well, we're going to get you all fixed up, okay?" he smiled. "Are you having any pain anywhere?"

AMY:

My head hurt. Even though it was dark in here, the little bit of light still hurt my eyes. "Amy?"

I opened my eyes, forgetting the pain. "Miss Anna!" I cried. The sound of my own voice made the pain worse, and I clutched my head. "Oh!"

Miss Anna walked to the edge of the bed and sat down. Kristie and Louise wandered over from their cots in the corner and hugged her. "What's this for?" Miss Anna asked, embracing them both.

"We love you, Miss Anna," Kristie told her.

Miss Anna smiled and brushed her fingers through their matted hair. "I love you too, girls," she whispered. She looked up at me. "And I love you, Amy."

Kristie and Louise weren't hurt. They'd been far enough away when the building blew up to not get hurt by it. I'd been across the street. Nichole, in the bed next to me, had been in the middle of the street. She had only woken up for a little while, and the doctors gave her medicine to make her go back to sleep, so she wouldn't hurt so much. One of her legs had been crushed by a car.

"Will you tell us a story, Miss Anna?" I asked.

"Yes, a happy story!" Louise cried, excited. Louise was only five. Kristie was six. I was eleven, and had known Miss Anna before she became a "Miss." She had been like my sister, when she was a child in the orphanage.

She smiled and brushed Kristie's hair back. "Okay," she relented. "Go see if anyone else wants to hear. But be quiet. This is a hospital."

They ran from the room, giggling quietly. Miss Anna turned to me. "How do you feel, Amy?" she asked.

I nodded slightly. "I'm okay I guess," I answered quietly. "My head hurts real bad, but they say I should be okay."

She smiled. "You're a brave girl."

"Miss Anna Palmer?"

Anna and I turned to the voice at the door. A man covered in dust and wearing a firefighter's uniform stepped into the room. "Yes?" Miss Anna asked.

"I have something for you," he grinned. He stepped forward and held out a small gray box. It was badly dented, but sealed. The lock looked broken. It would be easy to pry open. "I heard you were looking for something kind of like this."

Miss Anna smiled as she took the box. "Yes," she sighed. "Thank you so much."

The man nodded, then left. Anna studied the box for a moment, then set it on the chair. "What is it?" I asked.

She smiled faintly at me. "A treasure box."

RAPHAEL:

"They're keeping people at the hospitals," Leo informed us. He'd been out most of the morning; nobody knew where. Nobody really cared right now. "Hurt or not. They've also got them in homeless shelters and places like that. Who knows what's gonna happen to them when they have to leave."

"Well, they can't very well throw all those children out on the street," Mike snapped, his voice cold.

"But they can't keep them in the hospital forever," Donatello sighed.

I closed my eyes, and listened to the brief bickering, surprised that for once, I wasn't a part of it. Donatello left. I opened my eyes again and stared up at the ceiling. I'd been on this couch most of the day. It hurt to walk. Not that that would've stopped me if I'd had someplace to go, but I didn't. So I lay here.

I watched TV... but all I saw was news about the recovery efforts, whose body they'd pulled out and how many they figured were incinerated. I slept... but I dreamt of bleeding, dying children and decided that I wouldn't be sleeping anymore. I thought of Casey, wondered if he was out of the hospital... and thought of the infants who were in the hospital, drugged on morphine and god-knows-what-else. And they were the lucky ones. I decided that thinking was dangerous, and resorted to just staring blankly at the walls and ceiling.

"You should probably change that," Leo advised.

I glanced at him and saw him nod toward Michaelangelo's bandaged arm. Mike glared at him, and stood up carefully. He walked to the bathroom, and shut the door behind him. Leonardo sighed and turned to me. "Don't tell me you're the only one who's not gonna storm out of the room and slam doors."

I smiled faintly. "I'm too tired, Leo."

He walked to the nearby chair that Mike had left and flopped down. I watched him for a moment. "Where've you been?" I asked quietly, surprising myself with my tranquility. Ordinarily, we threw these issues back and forth at each other like grenades.

He closed his eyes. "Just... out," he whispered. "Tryin' to deal with this." He shrugged pathetically. "I got nowhere to go, really, but I can't stay here. I'm surprised you can."

I studied my brother closely. Never in my entire life had I seen him look so defeated. I looked away. Something about that was distinctly wrong, and I didn't feel like I should be witnessing it. "I wish April was back," he mumbled. "She might be able to tell us what the city's talking about as far as what's going to happen to them."

"She'll be back tomorrow."

"Good."

I considered that for a moment. "The news media's having a field day with this," I mumbled. "Especially that one jackass anchor."

"Which one?"

"The one for the morning show, who sits on the edge of his seat and eats up every gory detail he can pry out of victims. I don't remember his name."

"Oh, that one," Leo smiled.

I closed my eyes and let my head loll to one side. "He drives me up the fucking wall," I sighed.

"He's just callused," Leonardo defended, although I could tell his heart wasn't really in the argument.

"No, April is callused," I corrected. "That guy's a fucking moron."

He didn't answer.

The bathroom door opened. "There's no more goddamn dressing to change this," Mike informed, his voice cold and unfeeling. I stared at him for a moment. He had tears on his cheeks, and he didn't try to hide them.

"I'll get some," Leonardo sighed. "You shouldn't be doing that on your own anyway."

That wasn't the answer Mike wanted. "Fuck you."

I would've been surprised if I were still capable. Michaelangelo walked to his room and slammed the door. I stared at it for a moment, then at the still figure on the chair. "Leo?"

"Yeah?"

"This is ridiculous."

"What is?"

"The way we're all acting." He looked up at me, but said nothing. "I'm supposed to be the one tellin' you to fuck off, not Mikey."

He smiled faintly. "Gee, thanks."

I shook my head. I didn't mean it to be funny. "We're all..." I searched for a word.

"Numb?" he offered.

"Yeah," I sighed.

He closed his eyes. "It'll go away."

"When?"

"I don't know. But it has to eventually." He opened his pain-filled eyes and stared at me. "Right?"