Undiscovered Power
~
Danceingfae: I SO wish you wud stop reading my mind!! You keep giving my story plots away! Lol. Note to myself; learn Occlumency ( - from Harry Potter) to keep my mind locked safe from psychics! And in response to your review of the 3rd chapter, there's no exchange of letters, no phone calls *evil grin* they think she's dead, and she thinks their dead. Evil feel so guuud!
Lenni: You get your million bucks ;)
Donny's note: Coccyx is the last bone of the spine, or otherwise known as the tailbone for those who don't know. In this chapter it is used as a different noun for the backside.
~
After only a few minutes of leaving the sewers, Raph was running through an alleyway at top speed, with the cool night air skimming across his face pleasantly against the burning flush. Not far behind, in close pursuit, were five crooks, shouting and jeering angrily as they followed, having noticed Raph as soon as he had tuned a corner and come face to face with these five. They had remembered Casey from when he and Raph first burst in on their latest hold-up in the small antique store, and had remembered him at their house. So when they first glanced at Raph in his same trench coat and fedora, one of them had yelled "Hey – that's one of 'em!" Had he been feeling himself he would have stayed and took them down, not even put off by the guns two of them held. But tonight, he felt like teasing them, letting them chase him. He was laughing as they did, because he knew they would never catch him, there were wasting their energy for nothing, and besides, they were only after him so they could get their precious Eye artifact back, which Raph did not have on him. Even though he knew they would never catch him, he did have to run his fastest to keep a good distance ahead. The strong-jawed male leader was hot on his tail, as was the woman, determined to get their stolen possession back. But however fast they thought they were, they had not got the long lasting energy as Raph had to run on and on, and soon they had begun to slow down. They had stopped at the end of a very long, clustered alleyway, bent over with their hands on their knees, watching as Raph stopped and watched them from a distance, with a arrogant grin about his face. Though it disappeared slowly as his senses flared, and a distant roar of an engine met his ears. He knew what that was by the look of the two faces at the other end of the alleyway. He should have known these crooks would do whatever they could to get their hands on power.
His suspicions were confirmed when a car skidded into the alleyway behind him, slightly losing its friction and turning at an angle to the dark brick wall, before regaining its control and aiming straight for the turtle, who was caught in-between the two at the end and the car.
Raph turned his body to face the car that was speeding towards him. He could just see the faces of the other three crooks, laughing manically at him. He watched it rapidly eat the distance between them, and he took a few steps forward, towards it, before breaking into a run. He could see their faces now; their laughs were dying and their smiles were to be replaced by frowns as the yards became meters. Not even eight meters apart, Raph leaped into the air, landing on the bonnet, and jumped onto the roof of the car. The crooks inside leant forward over the steering wheel, looking up as Raph's green foot disappeared over them. Raph then jumped off the car, rolled to his feet, and ran out of the alleyway the way the car had come from. Knowing it could back up and follow him, he put on his extra speed, now wanting to lose them for good instead of teasing them. He felt terrible with his head throbbing painfully, and decided at once to go straight home.
He entered a narrow alleyway, turning sideways to squeeze passed a dumpster. He would have to go around to find a manhole; he couldn't risk running into those idiots again. The alleyway he was in at the minute had steam rising eerily from grates in the ground near the building they belonged to. He ran through the warm steam, which was welcome to his cold, clammy hands, but not to his face, which was burning hot. He ran out of the alleyway, into a back street, more like an alleyway than a street, but it had a small road nonetheless. He had only glimpsed his surroundings, though, before there was a split second of screeching car wheels, and his breath was suddenly knocked from his body as pain shot through him, before he realized his feet were no longer on the floor, and he was unconscious.
//
Prida let out a small half scream, half gasp as her car threw her forward when she slammed on the brakes, and as it rocked when she hit something. She sat up straight and rigid, eyes wide, mouth open as she just saw the figure land against the front of a dumpster a good few meters away. Her heart raced as her brain numbed with shock. She had just hit someone!
Prida, still staring at the unmoving figure, fumbled for the release of her seat belt. She forced it back, and, leaving the car running, she opened her door and stepped out, eyes never leaving the figure. She realized she had been holding her breath, and she let it out, breathing in sharp and quick. Her eyes raked over the figure's trench coat, and the hat that had been thrown to the side of them. She could not see the face at this distance because their arm was over their cheek, and it was too dark. She felt she should be moving quicker, but then she found herself thinking quickly that she should be phoning for an ambulance. She glanced about quickly for a pay phone, but there was not one down this small back road.
Chest rising and falling more than usual, she opened her mouth and said in a shaky voice, "Hello . . . c-can you hear me?"
The figure did not move or give any sign of a response. Prida, feeling slightly stronger after her shock had calmed down, took an extensive step next to the figure's covered legs, and crouched down, planting her hands on the hard, bumpy tarmac to steady herself. She reached with one hand to feel for a pulse, but when her eyes lay on the hand on the arm of which the body was lying on, she froze, staring at it. Her heart froze for a second too, as her open mouth took in a very shallow, slow breath. The hand of which she was staring at was . . . green . . . with three fingers . . . Her brow furrowed very slightly above her wide, dark purple eyes, and they dashed over the trench coat twice before they rested on the arm that was blocking her view of the head. With a totally confused, shocked brain, she slowly reached out her hand that had been suspended in the air, having made to check for a pulse on the figure's hand. She didn't realize how cold her own were as she gingerly took hold of the trench coat sleeve material and pulled it away from the face; but as her eyes saw the face, she let the arm drop to the side of the body and with a quiet gasp she fell onto her backside and scuttled away, eyes on the face. She stopped only a few feet away, her face now contorted into shocked disbelief as her wide eyes never left the green features on the head. Still sat on her coccyx with her knees bent and her arms out behind her, her chest heaved and her breaths came out long, her eyes skimmed the cheeks until they rested on the strip of material around the closed eyelids . . . the red strip of material . . . Prida's slight frown lifted and her eyebrows rose slowly higher. She slowly pushed herself onto her knees and crawled back over to the face she had last seen four months ago. Her brain wasn't really working, but all she knew at this moment was that this figure had been running a second before she had knocked him down, meaning he – had been – alive . . . Unable to muster the power to speak, she mouthed the words "Oh my God . . ." while she breathed out. She stretched out her hand again, reaching for the face; but she withdrew it slightly, as though he had stirred. Seemingly getting a firmer hold over her shaken self, she stretched her arm out again, and her hand slowly touched the warm cheeks of her best friend. She let out a breath of relieved sadness as she confirmed to herself that he was real. Her mouth worked into a very sad, grim smile as she very slowly rubbed her thumb against the cheek. For some reason she looked away, at the ground a few feet away, as though looking through it; but she brought her eyes back to her friend; shock remained, but now she knew she had to get him off the road, and somewhere safe . . .
//
Donny yawned widely as he shut down his computer. He stretched his arms above his head and sat back in his chair, which tipped backwards and his weight pushed against it. Closing his mouth, Don got off his chair and walked out of his lab, shutting the door behind him. He remained facing the door for a few seconds, motionless, before he turned his head and looked at the file cabinet next to him against the wall. He stepped in front of it, and pulled open the second draw, taking out the Eye artifact. He looked at the two symbols in the twisting metal, and thought about what Raph had told him. After a few seconds, he heard movement behind him and looked over his shoulder at Leo.
"Hey, what you doin' up?" Donny asked. He was usually the last one up because of the time he spent on his computer; apart from Raph of course. He put the Eye of Yailea back inside the draw, and closed it.
"Oh I was just – " Leo said, then stopped and waved his hand dismissively. "Never mind, I was just waiting to see if Raph was back yet."
Donny nodded silently, watching his brother in the dying candlelight. Splinter had retired to bed quite a while ago, and Mikey had copied shortly after, tiredly moaning he was very sleepy. Donny had remained on his computer all night.
"I doubt you'll get anything," said Leo, sounding tired himself. It was quite late. "From the computer, you'd 'ave found it by now."
Donny gave a thoughtful noise. "Maybe, but maybe not. Anyway, I'm going to bed," he announced, and made towards his and Leo's room.
Leo seemed to think about whether he should or not, but after a massive yawn decided he should too. He walked after his brother, and as he was closing their car door to, he turned to Don, who was climbing into his bottom bunk.
"Why did Raph suddenly take off earlier?" He asked, as though this was nothing to worry about.
Donny shrugged as Leo climbed onto his bed to reach his own. "I dunno . . . he did look slightly red in the face . . . I've already been thinking that he's probably caught a cold or something. And I know the reason for that; after he got back with you and Casey from stealing the Eye artifact he didn't drink that soup I made, nor did he even wrap himself in that blanket to warm himself up. I think maybe that's why he went out, to cool down."
Leo was silent from the top bunk. The springs had stopped groaning under his weight and movement, and Don couldn't even hear him breathing. Then his brother spoke.
"D'ya think he'll be alright then? Topside? I don't know as much as you do about the effects of colds, and the cold temperature on our turtle bodies . . ."
Donny dug the back of his head into the pillow. "Well, I'm sure he'll come home soon, he's not that stupid to be out with a cold. He'll be alright tomorrow, but I'll check him out just to make sure it's nothing bad . . ."
()()()()
Prida snapped her eyes open the following morning and lifted her head from her numb arm, in her flannelette bed-shirt and normal daywear shorts, her typical night attire. She was on the end of her old bed, in the basement. And boy was she lucky she had asked her sister not to throw it away, but to store it in the basement, which Prida had turned into a cool room, even though the walls were bare and there were still one or two spider webs in the corners. But while she was curled on the end of the bed, the mutant turtle she had managed to get home was laid under the duvet, still unconscious. Prida had expected herself to wake up this morning and find it had all been one of her feverish dreams. She had had many nightmares and dreams in which her four best friends were still alive; some of them ended suddenly, some of them ended horribly, none ended nice. And so, when she noticed her friend under the bedcovers she had laid upon him late last night, she could not stop the sudden and violent fluttering in her chest. He was real! He was alive! Could it mean the others had survived? Or was it just Raph who had lived the explosion? Maybe he and just one other made it, then again maybe he and two others. But then, what if this was a completely different guy who she thought it was? What if there was another mutant, who wore Raph's bandanna to respect the being who died? Of course not! But then . . . how is he still here? He was dead, she had not heard of him for four months! Just WHAT had happened? Many questions rose in her head until she could no longer listen to them. She emptied her mind, and blinked herself back into reality, looking at the green head of her friend. Putting questions that refused to be ignored aside, she began to think there was something wrong with him. His cheeks were red and flushed, burning to the touch, and she knew enough about turtles to know there were cold-blooded. She did not know whether to cover him, or to leave him uncovered on top of the bed. She had taken off his trench coat, and left it at the end of the bed, and had left a bowl of cool water on the small bedside table, and a cool washcloth on his forehead. She had not been able to do much (not that she could) last night as it had been late, and she had not been able to worry too greatly because she was exhausted after dragging him from the car into the house; yet she did not get to sleep too easily.
Knowing there was nothing else she could do, but to wait for him to wake (her heart beat incredibly fast at this thought), Prida slid of the bed and, with a look at the unconscious turtle, walked around the wall (the bed was placed in a sort of cubby, separated from the stairs by a wall, of which the stairs were against), and jogged up the stairs to the basement door. She jogged through her large house into the kitchen, where she jumped, skittish-like, as the phone in the kitchen started to ring. She walked over to it and picked up the receiver.
"Hello?" She said as she placed it against the side of her head.
"Hey sweetie!" Mai's voice spoke happily from the other end.
"Oh hi Mai!" Prida said, the smile on her face was only half hearty because of her shocking meeting with a dead friend.
"How ya doing all by yourself?" He sister was clearing smiling by her tone. "Having a great time without me? Partying?"
Prida gave a small short laugh. "No parties yet. How's Egypt? And you're new husband? Divorced yet?"
Her sister laughed this time, though it was longer and cheerier than Prida's. "Egypt's absolutely great! It's boiling over here, we're going to see the pyramids in two days! And Korey is great too – I've sent a postcard yesterday, hope you get it soon – I wish you were here, it's really great – we'll have to bring you another day – Oh, Korey says 'Hi Kiddo'!"
"Hi Korey!" Prida said back. She could hear her sister repeating the message to her husband. Then her sister's voice returned to her.
"Hey, I hope you're not crashing the place, otherwise I'll just have to reconsider giving you any gift that we've bought for you – oh, gotta go Pri! We'll be in England in four days, I'll send ya another postcard form there – and have plenty of friends around if you want, I'd rather you weren't on your own all the time, but I know you're capable – Korey stop that! – I'll try and talk again soon, but these phone bills are terrible! See ya in a week and a half, bye Prida!" There was a click, and the dead dial tone droned on.
Prida smiled and put down the phone. She WOULD invite friends around, if she hadn't of thought they had been dead. Roxanne had come round yesterday, but she had gone home earlier because she had homework to finish. Then Prida's heart jolted: She couldn't go to school tomorrow (today was a spare day off school for some reason) – she had to stay here – look after her dead fri – her LIVE friend! Plus, the memories of going to school with the four quads, and now having seen one of them was bound to effect her school work tomorrow, no doubt about it. She just still couldn't believe it. She wasn't sure whether her brain had actually accepted the fact that she had just brought home one of her best friends, who she had thought dead for four months. What would he say when he woke up? She realized with another, cold jolt that they had obviously thought she was dead too, otherwise they would have come to tell her they were alright. Or had they wanted to remained non-existent, as they had wanted to before she had guessed what they were? No, they had been the best friends she had ever had, they wouldn't do that. Questions invaded her mind again, and she clutched her head, wincing. She had never felt so confused, so shocked, so surprised and so happy in her entire life. Was she sure she had not dreamt the whole thing? No! It was real! – Finally her brain started to believe her eyes, and the shock that had filled her last night seemed to have returned for some reason. This was not a dream that she had been having for four months, this was not her imagination, this was not a trick of eyes, fooling her into believing it was a mutant turtle when in fact it could be a total stranger downstairs in her basement right now . . . it was Raphael, one of the guys she had made such good friends with she had begun to think it wasn't true. But it had been true, and it was true now. But with yet another jolt she suddenly had a horrible feeling that when he woke, would he remember her? Of course he would, she had been his best friend too, beside his brothers. But had the impact of the car and the pavement, plus the dumpster, had an effect on his memory? It was something unlikely, but if possible, she would have to wait until he woke to find out.
Bringing herself out of her thoughts realm, she realized why she was in the kitchen in the first place. She had come to get some breakfast, but she found herself not hungry. She waved a hand at the kitchen counter, where she prepares all her foods, as though motioning to someone to forget it. Then she turned and walked back out of the kitchen, and back into the basement, almost tripping on the last step that spiraled away from the wall in her haste to get down them. For some reason she desired nothing more than to be down in the cool basement, watching Raph as he slept. She walked a slightly slower pace than usual around the wall and immediately directed her eyes to one of the faces she had been dreaming about, thankful that as of now, maybe the bad dreams might go away. She still had dreams about her own ordeal that brought her awake in a breathless jolt almost as much as those about her friends did.
Prida sat down on the bed next to where Raph's arm would be by his side under the covers, and took the flannel from his forehead. She then looked down upon his face, and her eyebrows turned inwards and up as she thought sadly about how she had missed him and his brothers so much. She tore her locked eyes away and to the bowl on the small table. She drenched the washcloth again, wrung it out, and applied it to his forehead again. How long would he be out? She didn't know. But she was sure as hell going to be here when he did.
//
It was ten in the morning, and the occupants of the lair were worried.
"He would have come home last night if he was feeling bad," Leo stressed on, pacing with his open hands suspended in front of him, jerking them as he spoke. He paced behind the couch, as Mikey and Splinter watched him. Donny had his arms crossed, sat against the arm of Splinter's chair while staring at the floor in thought.
"And he doesn't usually stay out ALL night, especially when he hasn't been busting heads with Casey," Leo continued. Then he stopped his pacing and looked up from the floor. "D'y' think he WAS with Casey last night?"
"We'll phone him and ask," Mikey said at once. He stood from Raph's chair, and walked over to the phone where he started to dial a number that was on paper, stuck to the wall with sellotape.
Leo looked back from Mikey to Splinter and Donny. Leo decided to change the subject.
"Have you found anything at all on the Eye of Yailea?"
Donny shook his head. Before they had come to the conclusion that Raph had not been back home at all he had again buried himself in his computer work. He had stopped, of course, when Leo and Mikey had checked the lair for Raph, and when realizing he wasn't there, suggested he might have taken a walk. But Mikey informed them that he had not heard anyone come in last night, or leave this morning, and when they checked Raph's bunk, it was found that his bed had been untouched.
" . . . yeah, thanks away, Case," Mikey's voice floated from the side of them. He hung the receiver and walked back to their small assembly in the middle of the lair. "Negative, Casey was not with Raph last night."
Leo's turned slowly from looking at Mike to Donny, then returned to Mikey. "Mike, was Raph acting strange yesterday? Notice anything weird about him?"
Mikey was tempted to crack a joke about this, but held it back. "No, nothing strange . . . except, he did look a bit hot; flushed when he was playing my gameboy."
Leo turned to Donny again, as though waiting for his conformation about the cold they suspected their brother had.
Donny nodded. "Feeling hot with flushed cheeks is a direct symptom to a common cold, but . . . I'm fearing it might be worse . . ."
Splinter's heart sank slightly. He knew it was not the warmest weather out there, and with a cold added on to the temperature was not good, along with the amount of time his son had spent out there.
"Raphael had not been feeling well in my exercise yesterday," he spoke up. "I suggest you go to find him, I do not believe he would stay away from home with a cold, so I feel he may not have been able to come home."
His sons stared at him, but then Leo ordered them to get themselves geared up, and they left less than a minute later. When they had left, Splinter sunk into meditation, hopeful it might tell him something.
Though, after three hours of searching, three brothers returned home with no luck. They had searched every street, alleyway, pizzeria and park where Raph usually picked to get into brawls whenever he felt he needed to clean up the place of scum, or in the cause of the pizzeria, to get some food. They even followed Leo to a massive mansion, belonging to the crooks they had stolen the artifact from; thinking maybe they had captured Raph and now held him prisoner until he gave up their item in question. But having heard snips of conversation from the jungle of a garden as they closed in, they found out that Raph was not with them, but that it seemed that they had seen him last night, and failed to catch him. Taking that as good news that Raph had still been up and running late last night, they left slightly less worried than before; only slightly though. And on returning home to the lair, they informed their Sensei of what they had heard. They had returned home only because of the fact that it had started to chuck it down with rain after the sky had turned rather dark. The rain had chilled them off uncomfortably, cutting their time out in the cold, and Donny had said they had searched enough, and that they could not stay out much longer.
"We should wait for it to stop raining before we search again," Donny said as they sat in front of the electric fire he had moved out of his lab and into the main area. "Unless he returns home by himself. If not, then we should take it in turns."
Agreeing, they all settled with their hot mugs, and the warm electric fan heater blowing the air onto their skin, that was flecked with raindrops. Donny had only just finished his mug before he was standing, announcing that he wanted to return to his computer, having a 'feeling' about his luck with the information he was having so hard a time to find. Half an hour after Donny had stepped out of the comfortable warm breeze of the heater, Leo had stood with his empty mug, and said he was going to search for his missing brother again, saying, unlike Don, he had a bad feeling. Mikey was left with Splinter to watch a boring documentary on the Stick Insect and other invertebrates. April was at work, and so they had not called on her for help in searching, but they had managed to get Casey away from the TV, and help out, concerned as he was for his pal.
An hour after Leo had left, Donny pulled up something on his computer off the Internet and he sat upright in his chair as he read his newly found information. A half smile crept onto his features as he continued to read, click and type more.
//
It was now 2:40 as Prida glanced at her clock in the kitchen. She was making herself some toast after her hunger had got the better of her, having not eaten anything all day, and her friend still had not stirred or made any indication he was arising from his unconscious state. Fear had clamped down on her heart as an absurd thought popped into her head: What if Raph had gone into a coma like she had? The thought had only entered her brain before she pushed it away, but she was slightly afraid for him all the same. Who wouldn't be after they had just run one of their supposedly 'dead' friends down?
After eating her toast, which had no enjoyable taste to it at the minute, she returned to the basement again. It was quite comfy down there, because there was no garbage or any old junk; all that was kept in their garage.
She wet the washcloth again and returned it to Raph's forehead, tracing the back of her fingers down to his burning check. She pressed her hand on it, trying to cool it off, and as she did so, the smallest grunt mingled with his breath escaped his nostrils, and she paused her hand. He did not utter anything else, nor did he move, and she let out her held breath.
A sudden muffled knocking made her tear her eyes away and look up, wondering what it was. A second later her brain seemed to kick her and remind her that it was a knocking on the door; and, detangling herself from the lose bed sheets and replacing them over Raph properly, she hurried over to the basement stairs and ran up them to the door, reaching her kitchen just as the banging sounded again. Who could be at the door at THIS point in her week, just when she had someone extremely special she was looking after. She flew to the front door, unlocked it, released the bolt and opened it a foot. Her heart stopped fluttering rapidly as she sighed and pulled the door open a bit more, she should have known who it would be, he hardly left her alone now.
"Jo," she sighed, as she recognized the familiar handsome features and the tidy black hair.
A smile grew on his rain-flecked face. "Babe –"
"Tooks," she warned.
"Prida then," he said. He knew she hated to be called 'babe', just as he didn't like how she called him Tooks now and again. "How ya doin', sweet thing? I thought you'd be lonely with your sister gone."
He stepped into her house, and her heart started pounding again. He was better behaved with her ever since her coma, but with him AND Raph in the house – what if he somehow saw Raph? No, she would keep him away from the basement. She closed the door behind him. Even though he was better behaved, she still felt slightly uncomfortable alone with him.
"May I ask why you're around here today?" She asked, a small, falsely sweet smile on her face.
Tooks leant on the wall and smiled back, only his was a genuine I'm-in-love-with-you smile. Prida became aware that she was still in her nightwear.
"I'm staying at my uncles for a few days while my dad refurbishes my room. Jake, my uncle, lives just across the street."
"Really?" Prida's heart sank, and she couldn't help the discontent tone creeping in her voice. Fortunately Tooks didn't seem to have noticed.
"Yep, dad was promoted, so I just dropped by to tell you you're welcome round my uncles anytime if ya feel lonely . . . "
He treated her delicately, as though she was really his girlfriend and he had to protect her from sick guys at school or around town. But in his tone and the air about his smile, he was still Tooks, slightly bigheaded and mean to other people, and smug about his good looks, and his fortune to 'think' he had Prida.
"Right, yeah," Prida said with little enthusiasm. "If I feel lonely . . ."
Tooks smiled and moved back around her to the door, dark spots still on his shirt where rain drops had soaked in. He put his hand on the handle while looking at her.
"Wanna go get a pizza wiv'me? On roller-blades? Well, you'll have to change first." He grinned and gave her an up and down eyebrow jerk.
"Oh, no thanks T – Jo," she shook her head and displayed disagreement on her features. "I'm not feeling too good." It was lame, but she HAD to say in the house, she couldn't leave Raph. And it was raining outside, and she herself didn't fancy the risk of catching a cold.
Took's grin vanished and he showed a look of concern. "You okay – you want me to stay?"
She smiled at his concern (which he did not show for anyone else), and shook her head. "Nah, it's okay, I'm – I'll be fine."
He gave her a searching look, then nodded and opened the door. "See ya later then, Pri," and he turned and walked out into the now heavier downpour.
Sighing in relief of having gotten him out the house, Prida closed the door against the drumming rain and leant onto it. Then she turned with her back against the wall and looked into her house. She had just imagined her friend to be stood there, awake and fine. But her imagination played hell with her since the accident of four months ago, and she hated it for bringing her false happiness. Prida stood up straight and ran back to the basement, quietly jogging down the stairs. She walked around the wall and stopped as she looked at her friend. Had he moved? She was sure his head had been leaning on his right cheek, as it was now on the left. Yes – the washcloth had fallen off his forehead out of view. She walked over to him, sat on the bed and leant over his head. The washcloth was crumpled up next to his forehead on the pillow.
Prida heart did a double beat and quicken its pace, she felt like doing nothing other than sitting here and watching her friend, awake or not. It felt like an obsession, one that she had to make up for, for all those months of missing him and his brothers. She realized that her heart did not feel . . . as warm as usual, and she realized that, after this time, she was still in shock of finding her friend – the luck of, should she put it, 'running into him'! She felt so many emotions deep inside her, but she just couldn't pay attention to them, her whole focus was on her mutant friend.
//
"Nada, dudes," Mikey announced sadly, as he walked in from his search topside. He had replaced Leo as soon as his brother had returned, and was now taking off his soaked coat and fedora with his cold hands. He dashed to the electric fan heater and dropped down in front of it. "That's better," he muttered.
"Donny, you're up," Leo called from the kitchen to Don's lab, where he was still on his computer. Leo walked back to Mike with a mug of something warm; with Leo it was always difficult to tell what it was, but if it was a simple concoction, it was always good, and Mikey was thankful as he took it from Leo, and slurped it down slowly.
Donny appeared from his lab, a deep, pensive expression on his face, with one arm hugging his plastron, the other resting on that with his head on his thumb and forefinger. He stopped a few feet from his door.
"In spite of the unfortunate mystery of Raph's disappearance," he said, "I have some good news on the information I have been searching for."
Leo did not move, though he was listening intently, and Mikey stopped slurping to listen.
Donny continued, "Well, I HAVE been able to find out a rough time of when this artifact was created, and then I had to search through Astrology sites and bases on the Net to find out which day was an exact mirror of the night sky – the stars and planet aliments – and I have got a good enough answer. Unfortunately I could not get an exact DAY, or week, or even month, but I was able to find out that the time of which our planets and stars were at the same point in the sky, were in one certain year. It was exactly fifteen years ago . . . the year in which we were born . . ."
Leo stared at his brother, and then said, "So . . . whoever was born fifteen years ago, our age, is the person who this Eye of Yailea belongs to?"
"Correct," Donny said with a short nod.
Mikey glanced at Leo's thoughtful face before looking back at Donny.
"So, can this artifact . . . belong to one of us?" He asked slowly. "I mean – we ARE special . . . we're not normal, are we?"
Leo looked at Mikey as Donny thought about this. The silence was unusually tense.
"I don't know, Mikey," Donny said, honestly, slightly quieter than he was meant to say. Then he thought he should make something said. "Raph said . . . he recognized the symbols, on the metal," Don looked from Mikey to Leo. "He said he'd seen them before . . ." He was going to say WHERE Raph thought he had seen them, but then Mikey's spoke.
"Well – it could be Raph then," he said. "Couldn't it? If he's seen them before, he could have seen them in a dream or something . . . couldn't he?"
Donny watched his brother and then shook his head. "I don't . . . think so. I want to search further on this, I believe there is still more information on it."
Leo nodded. "Why don't you carry on with that and I'll go search up top again." He walked up the steps to the coat rack. "We could be worrying about nothing, you know; Raph might be fine, he's more than capable." With that he threw his coat on, took his hat and disappeared up the ladder.
Donny stared after him for a few seconds, then Mikey watched him walk back into his lab. Mikey wanted very much to talk to Splinter about the recent discussion, but his Sensei was mediating in his room, and Mike did not like to disturb him. Instead, he sat back on his hunches and stared at the heater, with his mug cupped in both hands.
//
Okay, it's now 3:15 and you're still in your nightclothes, Prida scowled herself. She knew she should get changed, but she didn't want to leave her place on the bed. Most people would have thought it incredibly boring sat in a basement all morning and most of the day, but she had plenty to think about, tons of questions that queued to be answered, and she found it by no means boring to watch her friend as his chest rose and fell so quietly. She was, if she allowed herself to say, fascinated, not just by the fact that he was not normal, no that was only a small percentage; but that he was here, sleeping peacefully (or so she hoped) in someone's house, who he himself probably thought was dead. This would explain the small smile on her face.
Shaking her thoughts away long enough to get her brain to decide to change her outfit, she stood up, stared down at the head on the pillow, and turned to walk up the stairs. She walked from the basement door after she had climbed the steps, and through her house to the staircase that led upstairs. As she climbed them, she remembered taking Raph up here to show him the picture of her parents. It had been a rainy day, just like today, but it had been darker then; at the minute it was quite light. She walked past the landing window to her own big room, with its own bay window. The curtains were still closed from last night before she had taken the car out, giving her room a slightly darker look. She was tempted to take a shower, but she didn't know if, while she was taking the time to wash her hair, Raph might wake up, and she did not want him to find himself alone. But, for some reason, before she undressed, she ran back down her stairs, through her large rooms, and back down the basement stairs, where she stopped and looked at the figure under the duvet. He did not look like he would be waking in a few minutes, for some reason she could tell. So she jogged back up the steps, through the house, and returned back to her room breathing slightly hard. She grabbed her clothes and made her way down the hall to her bathroom, in where she shut the door behind her, started the shower, and started to get undressed.
The hot water against her skin was both soothing and relaxing. The cold shock that had gripped her chest was rushed away as the water streamed down the drain. The mirrors in the bathroom were steamed from the heat. It was a tackle washing such long hair, but in no time she was hurriedly pulling on her clothes, and patting her hair to keep it from dripping. Then she walked back to his bedroom, pulled open the curtains and stared at the rain as it fell in streams down her window. She found herself remembering how her tears had acted just the same, every night for weeks after she had thought her friends had been killed; tears running in streams down her face, a never-ending flow. She was surprised to find that there was a single tear rolling down her cheek . . . a tear of happiness.