CHAPTER SEVEN

HUMANITY

Um… I need to clarify a few things.

Mistake on our part- That ultrasound didn't turn up anything. There was nothing found, and they returned her to the hotel room. Guess we should've explained that a little better.

Um, this one's a little more of a personal note. If you don't like my "no review, no post" policy, DON'T READ! I won't force you! S mentioned to me that someone was upset by that and I just want to clarify that I don't give a damn. If we're not in it for the glory, what the fuck are we in it for? I certainly don't get paid for this, does anyone else out there? My pay is the reviews, knowing what the readers thought about what I wrote. And if that's too much for you to give me, then don't bother reading my work.

-Danger Incarnate

Breathe in.

He was alive. Wandering in the darkness of nothing, he was still alive.

Breathe out.

He hurt like hell. He squinted into the shadows and saw himself, and he reconsidered the thought of waking up. The air felt like hot ash in his lungs. He could feel the blood course through his veins. He was so acutely aware of himself, he felt as if he were not a body at all, but more of a spirit. His skin tingled, and he felt wounds. He felt cold. Icy cold on his... back?

His eyes opened. Bright lights were over him. He tried to move, but he was tied. As he flexed his muscles, he cringed in pain and coughed. He tasted blood, and swallowed it again. Then he looked down at the leather straps around his wrists. The shock almost gave him a heart attack. Instinctively, he jerked away. It took him a moment to realize that he was trying to get away from himself.

He stared in shock at his five fingers and pale white skin. It was almost bluish under the flourescent lights. He watched his hand as if it were a serpent ready to strike him. Then, slowly, he clenched his fist. He stared at the space between his fingers and the scars there. For a moment, he couldn't breathe. He looked down at the rest of his body. Oh god...

"You're awake."

The voice came out of nowhere, and scared the crap out of Raphael. His head spun and he looked to see where it had come from. "What the hell did you do to me?" he gasped, barely managing a whisper.

Callihan took her glasses off and set them on the table. "How do you feel?" He wasn't entirely sure how to answer that, so he didn't speak. "Are you having any pain?"

Plenty of it, although he wasn't about to tell her that. His muscles were all sore and his lungs hurt. He clenched his teeth in defiance. "What the fuck did you do...?" he growled.

"If you're in pain, I can get you some morphine," she smiled.

Oh, great. More drugs. Just what he needed. "Fuck you," he whispered.

She laughed quietly. "I'll take that as a no?" She looked back down at the chart in front of her. "Well, make yourself comfortable. I've got a few tests to run before I can take you back to your room."

***

Four weeks. Leonardo had lost track of the days. He knew he was burned out. He'd just about killed himself trying to find his brothers until Donny had finally warned him that he was about to have a nervous breakdown. It wasn't an exaggeration. He was losing it. Finally, he'd slowed down. He knew he could never really stop. As long as there was a chance that they were alive, he couldn't stop looking.

He took in a breath of thick, polluted air. Had to love this city. Nobody seemed to care anymore what happened to the air they breathed. He'd read something once: that living in some cities was like smoking a pack of cigarettes every day. How could that possibly be a good thing? Chalk one up to man's industrial strength.

He sighed as the thoughts faded and he was once again confronted by painful truth. They were out there somewhere. Were they dead? He had to believe that at least Raph wasn't. He had to remember Splinter's words, and the message he promised to deliver. But Splinter hadn't been able to reach Michaelangelo. Everything inside of him wanted to believe that it was for some other reason than that he was dead. He couldn't be dead.

But they had scoured this city. Every back alley, every warehouse and abandoned building, every place where they might have gone... They weren't here. And if they weren't in the city, they could be anywhere. They might never be found. Leo shuddered. They were strong. He knew they were strong. The only thing he could hope was that they would somehow find their way home on their own.

He sighed as he climbed down the ladder and onto the fire escape. He walked slowly down the steps and jumped to the alley floor, landing crouched down. Instinctively, he looked for signs of movement, but he was alone. He raised the manhole cover and slipped into the sewers silently.

Rei was sitting on the couch, her knees brought up under her chin. She didn't look up as Leo walked in. "Hey," he called quietly. Her eyes shifted to him and he perched on the arm of the nearby chair. "Where's Donny?"

"I don't know," she whispered.

He studied her for a moment. She'd been crying. He could see the red around her eyes and the dried saline on her cheeks. Everything inside of him wanted to comfort her. He felt that even in all he did, he couldn't reach that part of her that was hurting, and he hated that. He hated being so helpless to aid her pain as much as he hated its presence in himself.

He couldn't bring himself to talk to her about Mike, about the possibility that he might never come home. He knew she'd already realized that, but it was a different story to actually talk about it. He didn't think she was ready. He didn't think he was ready. "You okay?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head mutely in answer to his question. He stood again and walked over to her, then sat down beside her. She turned into him immediately and he held her as she began to cry. "He's not coming back, is he?" she sobbed. "You're not gonna find him."

Suddenly, it didn't matter if they were ready to talk about it. They were going to do it anyway. A few weeks ago, he might have argued with her. Now he remained silent, not sure he wanted to speak of the possibility that she might be right. He ran his hands up and down her back as she cried into his shoulder. "I'm so scared, Leo..."

He brushed his fingers through her hair and she pulled away slightly to look at him. "Don't be scared, Rei," he whispered. "It's okay."

She closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. "It's not okay," she choked. "Leo, it's not okay!"

She threw her arms around his neck and pressed close to him. He could feel her tears run onto his skin and the heat from her body melted into his. He'd never felt so close to someone physically and yet so emotionally alone.

He didn't know how it happened. He didn't know who initiated it or even really why. But he didn't fight it. He didn't really even realize what he was doing as his body figured out how to act and he kissed her deeply, his eyes closed to the world. He could feel her chest rise and fall against his and instinctively he reached up to cup her breast. She closed the kiss before he made contact, and he instead touched her arm.

As his eyes opened, he looked at her and suddenly realized what he'd just done. He could see the same shocked horror written all over her face. "That... was wrong," she whispered.

He took a few staggered breaths. "Yes, it was," he agreed wholeheartedly.

She pulled away from him. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry."

He shook his head, still dumbfounded by his own actions. "No, it's... not your fault." He turned away, unable to look at her. How on earth could he have just done that?

"I should... go to bed."

"Yeah."

Rei swallowed hard and stood up. She left the room without another word, leaving Leo alone, his pulse racing. Shame welled up inside of him and he wanted to crawl inside of himself, somewhere where none of this was real. He brought his knees to his chest and curled into a ball, willing the world to be drowned by his tears.

***

Raphael pounded on the door as hard as he could. "Where the fuck is my brother!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "You can't fucking do this anymore! It was your bright idea to make us human and now you have to treat us like..." Blood dripped down the door from his knuckles as he hit it once more. "...humans!"

Nothing moved. He held his bloody hand and breathed hard. He felt tears sting his eyes and he leaned against the wall. He slid to the cold floor and curled into a ball, shivering. He wasn't cold; he was pissed off as all hell. And he was scared. For Mikey.

He heard the door open and spun around as Dr. Richardson walked into the room. For once, he wasn't carrying a needle. Raphael glared at him, not bothering to wipe the tears away. He was broken, and he didn't care. "I wanted to talk to you," Richardson said quietly.

"Tell me where my brother is and then we'll talk," Raph shot back.

"Raphael, I..."

"Oh, now I have a name?" Raph interrupted angrily. "Before I was an animal and now I have a name?"

The doctor sighed. "Are you finished?" he asked.

Raphael felt every muscle tense at the patronizing tone. He clenched his teeth and said nothing. Richardson watched him. "I want to explain to you what we're trying to do."

Anger surged through Raph. A week ago, he might have wanted to know. Right now, he only wanted one thing. "I don't care what you were trying to do," he snarled. "Where's my brother?"

"Your brother is fine," Richardson sighed, realizing there was no getting around that question.

"I wanna see him."

The man shook his head. "You're just going to have to trust me."

"Trust you?" Raph repeated in disbelief. "I'm ready to fucking kill you!"

"That wouldn't be very condusive to either of us in our purpose."

Raphael lowered his head, considering attacking this man. "I want my brother," he hissed. "Now."

Dr. Richardson studied him for a moment, and crossed his arms over his chest. He realized that he was going to get no cooperation until he either sedated him or gave him what he wanted. The first was definately easier, but the look in his eyes made it difficult for Richardson to reach for his tranquilizer gun.

"If I brought him in here," he considered, "what would you do?"

"Make sure he was alive," Raph growled.

"Assuming he is..."

Raphael watched him, wary of this newfound kindness. He didn't trust these people worth a damn. He didn't want to think of what they wanted from him now. "Will you leave him alone?" Richardson asked.

"Why don't you just lock me up in the goddamn cage?" Raph shot. "That way you can be sure."

Richardson sighed. "If I'm going to go through that trouble, I'll just leave him where he is."
Raph's eyes narrowed. "Why am I here?" he demanded. "What the hell do you want from me?"

"To ask you a few, simple questions."

"I'm not answering anything until I see my brother."

"I'll bring him in here."

"Then do it."

Richardson was quiet for a moment. "If you alter in any way the fluids in his IV or how much of them he gets, you could kill him."

Raphael glared at him. "Do you really think I would want to see him this badly so that I could kill him?" he retorted. "I know what your fucking drugs do, Doc. Bring my brother in here now."

***

The blanket underneath him was soaked with blood, and it was pouring from his ears and his nose. His chest was tightly wrapped with blood soaked bandages. An IV in his arm fed him more blood, and another IV held water. Tubes ran into his body and stuck to his skin with suction cups. Raphael stared at him, dumbfounded, as he was rolled into the room on a stretcher. Dr. Richardson returned to Raph.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Richardson offered.

"I don't know how it could be if he's still alive," Raph growled.

"Do you realize," Richardson began, "that you have been changed from one species to another in a matter of six weeks?"

Raphael glared at him. "Am I supposed to be impressed?"

The doctor sighed. "Raphael, your body was half-human when we found you," he started. "How did that happen? How did you become what you were?"

Raph stared down at the table where a human being that looked nothing like he remembered his brother, was strapped down. "Why is he tied?" he demanded.

"Convulsions," the doctor answered. "We don't want him to fall off."

Good reason. Raphael reconsidered his demand that he be released. "What kind of convulsions?" he asked coldly. He didn't like the sound of that word.

"The same kind that you had," he answered. Raph glanced up at him. "He's doing well, despite how he might look."

They stared at each other for a moment, neither of them daring to speak. "It was some kind of chemical," Raphael mumbled. "We don't know what it was or how it got there or if there's any more of it."

"How it got where?" Richardson questioned. "The sewers?"

"No, the Pyramids in Egypt," Raphael answered coldly.

Dr. Richardson decided not to comment on the sarcasm. He watched as Raphael ran a hand over the still figure's arm. "There's something you should know," Raph whispered.

"What's that?"

He looked up and their eyes met. "If he dies, I'm going to kill every one of you."

The sentence was spoken totally void of emotion. It sent a shiver down Richardson's spine. "I'm doing everything I can to keep him alive and not in pain," he assured him. "He should be fine."

Raphael didn't answer. There was a moment of silence before the door opened and they both turned. It was Dr. Alex. Raphael tensed as their eyes met. "Dr. Richardson, there's a call for you," he informed. Richardson started to the door. "You want me to take that one out of here?" Alex asked as he approached.

Richardson stopped and looked back at Raphael. Their eyes stayed locked for a moment, then the doctor turned back. "No, it's okay," he mumbled. "I think he'll be fine. Good for the, uh... psychological aspect."

Alex raised an eyebrow, but didn't question the order. He shut and locked the door as Richardson walked down the hall. Raphael watched the white wall for a moment, then turned his attention back to Michaelangelo.