Disclaimer:….Do. Not. Own. *cries*

Chapter Six

Centrice played with the blanket absently in her wait, pulling at a loose strand from the network of string. She watched it with little interest as it unraveled from underneath her. She sighed, truly happy for the first time in three days.

She would be going home today.

Her leather coat in hand, she sat on the hospital bed, fully dressed and ready to leave. The hospital staff had even washed her clothes in preparation for her scheduled departure. She wore them now, the little bit of home and familiarity lightening the dreary hospital room.

However, there was one more thing keeping her from making her journey home.

"Ah, Ms. Mitchells. Glad to see that you are ready. Are you excited?"

And there he was.

Smiling as politely as she could, she responded to the doctor in a manner no less than perfect, successfully hiding her extreme dislike for the dark haired, lanky doctor with her falsetto of her smile.

"Yes, Dr. Gren, I am thrilled." She looked the tall doctor in the eye. He returned her smile, accordingly, his own teeth grinning wildly.

To her, though, it looked more like a snarl than anything else.

Quickly and oblivious of her thoughts, he took a seat, of which, stationed him across from her bed. She watched in repulsion as he sat, his own white coat clinging to his gangling body; his stringy, greasy hair falling into his piercing blue eyes.

Despite her own senses, she was repulsed nonetheless.

There was just something about him that she just couldn't stand. Even though he was a good doctor, having been her doctor of the past year, she just never was able to warm up to male doctors over all.

Especially not this one.

It was just something about the way he looked at her. Something about his eyes…

They gave her the creeps.

Though, she knew she could not show it. That kind of behavior was just impolite.

In her job, she wouldn't have gotten as far as she had if she let every person she disliked for one reason the other be affronted by her mannerism towards them.

"You wanted to talk to me doctor." She kept her voice cherry and her eyes on him, as she inquired about their scheduled meeting. He nodded, throwing her another one of his "smiles" before allowing his brow to crease in concentration. In his hand was a manila folder, he now opened it, peering in.

Her records.

He read for a few seconds, his lips moving as he did. She allowed him the few moments, waiting patiently until he finally looked up at her, indicating that he had finished with another one of his smile.

'God, how I hate that smile.'

"Well, Centrice…" He stated expectedly, but trailed off, blinking once more, glancing at the papers in his hand once again. She ignored how odious her name sounded on his thin lips, that painted-on smile never left her own petal pink ones. On the inside, however, she grew steadily impatient with the doctor before her.

But on the other hand,

To rush the doctor would be rude, so she sat, thoughtfully waiting for the "signal" that he was indeed finished. After a few extended seconds, and no signal, she began to lose what little patients she had left. She seethed.

'What is taking him so bloody long?! Doesn't he see that I'm in perfect health!? Why doesn't he just complement me on my blouse, tell me I'm fine, and send me home like he usually does, that jackass!"

Finally, after what seemed like forever, he met her gaze. She watched him expectantly as he closed the manila folder. Her smiled widened, but froze as he leaned forward.

'What is he up to?!'

"Well, Centrice, I have to be honest with you. You are in perfect health." He beamed.

'Figures.' She narrowly avoided raising an eye brow. Instead, she forced a wider smile, as if she wasn't expecting the news. He continued.

"But,"

'But?! No, no, no. No 'buts', especially when that 'but' can keep me from going home.'

"But, I'm not so sure if you are ready to go home yet." Her eye widened, the false smile faltering.

'Not ready?!' He noticed her subtle change in demeanor, and quickly explained himself.

"No, what I meant was that…you're going home today…"

'Phew.' A sigh relief escaped her. Oh how she hated hospitals.

"But…"

'What?! Again with the 'Buts'?!'

"You'll have to come back." He stated simply, his lips frowning.

"What, you mean, like, come back for a checkup?" She stated hopefully, although that hope grew false at the shake of his head. "Then for what, Dr. Gren?" She shook her own head in confusion. He had just said that she was perfectly well, so why would they want her to come back? He sighed before once again reaching for those manila folders.

'Oh how I hate those folders!'

He quickly opened it, scanning over the writing with his eyes. She resisted rolling her own.

'Not again!' However, this time, he continued, much to her surprise.

"Well, you see Ms. Mitchells," His deep blue ever leaving her own green ones. "It's hard to explain. It says here, you came in with a bite leading to extreme blood loss, but when we analyzed the salivary fluids found in and around your wound, you know, for rabies and such, the results came back…abnormal." He put the folder down, eyeing her expectantly. "Is it possible for you to tell me exactly what bit you?" He asked, an eyebrow arching at the inquiry.

Although her smile never wavered, she gripped the table as if it was her lifeline. She never thought about what exactly to say to the doctors if they asked her about the bite. Actually, she had all but forgotten about the nasty thing. All she had been able to think about was Donny; her worry for him growing more and more each day. So now, this sudden question was more than a shock to her system.

'How the hell am I going to get out of this one?'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Donny awoke from his dreamless sleep only to be bombarded by the quiet, whispered voices of his brothers beyond his shut door.

He strained his ears, but that didn't help much. He still couldn't make out any of what they were saying, but he did know that the voices seemed to come from the nearby kitchen. Sitting up, he risked a look at his homemade digital clock.

'Ten Fifty in the morning! Since when have they let me sleep in this late?!' He shuffled out of the bed, wiping the prolonged sleep from his eyes. It just couldn't be that late, could it? He eyed the clock, the zero melting into a one before his eyes.

Ten Fifty one.

'Well, Damn. I better get up. God only knows what their up to out there without me.' He felt a pang of guilt at the mention of his brothers. He knew that they were coping with his little, changes, as best as they could. And he knew from the experience that it was a hard thing to deal with.

Maybe, he had been too harsh on them.

His ears picked up on the hushed whispers from the kitchen. Amongst the jumbled mix of the three voices, he instantly picked up on the sound of his own name.

'Their talking about me.'

Well, that was no surprise.

'Probably talking about what happened yesterday.' His shoulders sagged as he sunk down into the bed, sighing wearily. The mere fact that they didn't wake him up for early morning practice, told him that something was up.

Something that they didn't want him to know about.

He listened, the hushed mummers continuing. 'What are they up to?' He couldn't help but walk to the door, his budding curiosity growing with every step. The louder the voices were, the more he wanted to know. Finally, out of his room, he followed the voices.

He had been correct, they were in the kitchen. With the door slightly ajar, he listened to the now crystal clear voices that flowed from the other side.

"Do you think that he will get mad?"

It was Michelangelo, his rough "surfer accent" made the claim undeniable. However, before he was completely able to consider the meaning of Michelangelo's question, another more humble, deeper, voice sounded out.

"I don't know."

Definitely Leo.

Don peeped through the slightly opened door, his curiosity getting the better of him. Meanwhile, Raph's city drawl joined in the whispered conversation.

"Well, he'd better appreciate what we're doin' for him, otherwise he won't like the consequences." There was a small pause, before the voice sounded out one more time. "I don't know how you guys can just touch that thing?!"

'What thing?!' He couldn't take it anymore; he had to know what they were talking about. Why were they sneaking around behind his back, doing 'God knows what?' He felt betrayed that they would even do anything without his knowledge. Why?

He looked in, watching the backs of the three figures as they faced the small table. Unfortunately, they were all so crowded around the table that he was not able to get a good look on what was on it. He scowled.

'Damn. I can't take this anymore.' He just had to know, one way,

Or the other.

He stepped through the door, and into the kitchen. However, his presence was still left unknown; the turtles' conversation never ceased.

"Leo, are you sure we're doing the right thing?" Mike turned to Leo, his eyes just beyond those of Donatello's. However, Leo did not respond, but only took something from Michelangelo's grasp. Donny, from his spot, was not able to make out what that something was, and it only managed to anger him more.

He cleared his throat, finally willing the attention of the turtles before him.

And he got it.

"Donatello!" Leo turned, instantly apprehensive. At the name, the other two looked up. They turned, moving so that whatever they were fiddling with was out of sight. Meanwhile, Leo continued, trying without success to draw Don's wandering eyes away from the table.

"So, how was your sleep?" Small talk was the best talk, especially when you were trying to talk your way out of impending doom. However, Donatello was not fooled.

"Good… What are you doing?" Nope, he was not fooled, not even for a second.

Leo cursed inwardly, watching Don lean over, his eyes seeking out the table top. However, once again, he was blocked. Leo leaned with him, along with Mike and Raph from behind. The object on the table was still left a mystery.

Leo continued in his babble.

"We let you sleep in, you know. You've been under a lot of stress for the past few days." While he talked Donatello was persistent, moving every way possible to gain clearance through the wall of turtle. Nevertheless, Mike stayed on his toes, counteracting every movement with a blockage of his own.

However, Raph was a little bit to slow.

'Is that…my transfusion pack?' He instantly recognized the empty plastic bubble.

"Why do you guys have my transfusion pack?! And…why the hell is it empty?!" He voice cracked as his anger boiled. All three turtles looked up at his questions, the same mixed look of shock and guilt written all over their faces. Leo stepped forwards, giving Don another glance at the table and at the empty pack.

"Don, it's not what you thi-"

"No!" He bellowed, his body shuddering under suppressed rage; his quick mind put two and two together. "It's worse."

Leo blinked. "Wh-"

"You know, I thought that you guys would at least try to understand me, would at least try and understand that this is serous. But No! You guys just had to prove me wrong! Why couldn't you just have given this a chance, just a chance? That's all I wanted. But you had to go and sabotage it, sabotage everything, just because you didn't like how this was turning out!" Donatello spoke through clenched teeth, his fists taunt at his sides. By then, all three turtles watched him contently, confusion etched all over their features.

"Donny, what are you talking about?" Raph was the first to speak, his voice, puzzled and a little hurt that Don would assume such things of them. Don blinked.

"Weren't you guys just throwing away…?" He trailed off, now completely at loss. He had thought that they were getting rid of the blood, and a look at the sink confirmed his thoughts.

The white basin was now stained red.

They had indeed thrown it away.

But now, he didn't know what to think. Well, that was until something else caught his eye.

"Raph, you bleeding." Don's eyes grazed over Raph shut fist, blood dripped from within. Raph followed his gaze, immediately hiding the appendage behind his back. But Don was too quick for that.

"Why are you bleeding, Raph? Did your cuts get reopened?" He took a step forwards and towards the red banded turtle, of whom, visibly tensed at Don's approach.

"N-no." It was Mike that time, from the opposite side of Leo. "He had cut himself, so we were just fixing him up." Well, a half truth was better than a complete lie, although, the look that Don threw him told him that he didn't buy any of it. However, as Mike watched those eyes widen, he realized that he too was busted.

"Oh my god, Mike! What the hell?! You're bleeding too!" Don bound over to his little brother, seeming taking Mike's own bleeding fist from behind his back. However, the turtle resisted when Don went to open that fist.

"Let me see!" Mike relaxed, allowing Don to pry open the tight ball. A small gash inhabited the palm within, the blood dripping from the minor wound accordingly. Although, rather minor, it was still big enough for him to grimace.

"What happened?" He demanded, taking the wounded hand. He would have to get this cleaned up.

"I…I-I…" Mike stuttered as Don began to drag him away. However, with the removal of Mike came the unveiling of the table, and it was then that he was finally able to see what truly was going on.

There on the table sat a glass of red liquid, its dark contents nearly to the top of the clear container.

"Wha-What is this?" He turned, puzzled, searching all three of their faces for answers.

However, it was his mind that answered first, everything of the past few minutes coming together.

The secrecy, the empty transfusion pack, the bloody palms, the glass of blood…

He watched Leo expectantly, also noticing for the first time that his own hand was behind his back. Leo noticed his stare, and removed his hand from its concealment.

Don gasped.

In Leo's grasp, a bloody dagger.

"Well, I guess you've caught us then, huh Donny?" Leo chuckled slightly before continuing. "Yes, you were always too smart, always figuring things out, you know. We were going to be finished before you woke. But, you just were too quick for us." He smiled. "Ever since you were young you've always been 'the smart one' Donny. Always. And you still will." Don watched in horror as Leo brought the dagger forward and over the almost full glass of blood. A quick flick of his wrist, and his left palm was left slashed. The blood flowed from the new wound, filling the glass to the brim.

"You are our brother. We support you, and we will never let you go." Leo dropped the dagger, fisting the wound as the other two turtles did. That was when it all, everything, finally hit Donny dead on.

'Their…sacrificing their own pain, their own blood…for me." A tear ran down his face as he stared at the glass now filled to the brim with the blood of his loved ones, of his brothers. Leo watched on as Don broke down, his sobs filling the once silent room. The knees gave out from under the weeping turtle, but just as quickly, all three of them were at his side. Don soon found himself in the grasp of all of his brothers.

He would have it no other way.

He looked into each one of their faces, into the faces of everlasting love. He smiled through his tears. A real smile for the first time in days. It made his heart joyful to know that now, he would not be alone.

They were a family, and as such they would get through this

As a family.

***

Wow, pretty deep. *tilts head* Pretty strange, but pretty deep. What do ya think? This is one of my most "sensitive" chapters in the whole series, and I would love your input! R and R