A/N: Just to clarify a few things for a few people:
Pretender Fanatic: Yes, it was long enough. . Thanks, but no need to stress. Your enthusiasm is heartwarming. To answer your question, in the flashbacks, they're ten, not five. I thought I said they were, but maybe I messed that up. I meant to say ten, because I said "six years ago" assuming that they were all sixteen now... oops. I'll hafta re-check that but they were definitely ten.
(Kudos by the way to anyone who got the reference to "Tales of Leo" with the whole car thing. I just thought that would be funny.)
Rene: Good to know you're breathing again. Cliffhangers are fun for the author, but not the reader... been there done that and it's really stressful. And in the new show, that warehouse is the place where that weird elevator thing that goes into the new lair (they discovered it in one of the first eps) opens up. And no, I don't have the 'hit list.' Just got a painful speeding ticket (my first ever!) so prolly won't be spending unnecessary money any time soon. But thanks for the info.
A small chorus of "hey"s greeted April when she entered the lair. She waved to the guys and, noticing that there were only three, furrowed her brow.
"Where's Mikey?" she asked. The turtles exchanged glances.
"He's in bed," Leonardo told her. "He... got sick last night."
"Poor guy," April murmured. "Well, I brought these," she held out a bag of cough drops, "for him. I hope they help."
"Thanks, April," said Don, surprised. "You didn't have to do that."
"I wanted to," she replied. "You guys have done so much for me, that I just want to help. He's going to be okay, isn't he?"
"I think so," said Donnie. "He's got pneumonia, but..."
"Pneumonia?" April gasped. "Guys, that's... that's bad."
"We know," said Leo and Raph together.
"We've dealt with pneumonia before," Donatello explained. "We're taking good care of him."
"But still..." April didn't look convinced. "I'm not sure the cold sewers are the best place for him. If he's that sick..."
"I was sicker than him when I got it," said Raph. "And I'm okay."
"In what sense?" Leo muttered. Raph glared. Don and April rolled their eyes.
"Still..." April thought for a moment. "This kind of of air... damp and cold and, no offense, kinda smelly... isn't the best thing for a sick person, especially with pneumonia."
"Well, waddya suggest we do?" Raph demanded. "Take him to a hospital?"
April shook her head. "I know you can't do that," she said. "But maybe... he could come stay with me. It's at least a little warmer in my apartment, he could stay there until he gets better."
"I don't know, April," said Leo. "He's pretty sick. We couldn't ask you to take care of him."
"I don't mind."
"And what about the paint?" asked Don. "The fumes from that won't be very good for him."
"They're mostly dry," said April. "I can keep the doors to the bedroom and den closed, and I can have their windows open and fans set up in them... they're so dry by now that you won't even notice the smell anyway. He can sleep in my living room."
"It would be better than him breathing the air down here," Donnie admitted. But the three brothers still looked uneasy. April smiled.
"I'll take good care of him," she assured them. "And you can come be with him whenever you want."
There was a pause.
"I think it is a very wise idea."
All four of them turned around to see Splinter shutting the door to Mikey's room.
He nodded to April, "Thank you, Miss O'Neil, for your offer. It is true that the air down here is not helping his illness. It is very kind of you to offer to care for him."
"Anytime," she said. "I only wish there was more I could do."
"How's he doing, Sensei?" asked Donatello.
Splinter sighed. "Michelangelo is very ill. His fever is very high. I can only hope that this is the worst of it." He looked at April. "As he has just fallen asleep, I do not believe that it would not be wise to try and move him now. He needs his rest."
"Of course."
"The best time to move him would be at night," said Leo.
Splinter nodded. "Then we leave after sundown."
The others agreed.
Raphael was frowning in his slumber. His bandana, soaked in cool water, stuck to his forehead and left wet marks on his pillow as he shifted and turned in his sleep. Michelangelo was very cautious, almost silent, as he approached the bedside. As quietly as he could, he climbed into the chair next to the bed.
"Sensei wan'ed me to bring you this," he whispered, setting a fresh mug of tea wrapped in a thick cloth on the bedside table. "He says it'll make you feel better."
Mikey's usually chipper face was pulled into an unnatural frown. Water dripped from his wet headband, forming tiny streams down his cheeks. Raphael was very careful not to make a sound as he slipped into the room and sat down next to his sick brother.
"April brought you these," he whispered, setting the bag of cough drops on the bedside table. "It'll help with your cough, at least."
Mikey tensed as Raph stirred and groaned. He kept very still, hoping that he hadn't awoken him. Sensei would be very angry if he did. But Raph's harsh breathing remained even; he once again settled into his slumber. His tiny face was still pained.
"Does it hurt?" Mikey whispered.
Michelangelo began to stir, and Raph froze. He didn't mean to wake him up. Mikey's soft, hoarse groans, raspy enough to make him cringe, jolted some painful memories that Raphael would rather repress.
"It hurts, Mikey," he murmured, "I know it does. It ain't fun. But you'll pull through."
After a few long moments, Mikey relaxed and again slipped into sleep.
"Hang in there Mikey," said April. "We're almost there."
The truck wasn't particularly cold, but it wasn't warm either. Michelangelo was wrapped tightly in a blanket, with Splinter and Raphael on either side of him. He was leaning against the inside wall, silent save for violent coughing fits, his listless eyes staring at the floor.
"How's he doing?" asked Leo from the passenger's seat.
"He'll be all right," April told Leo and Don. "But the sooner we get to my place, the better." She bit her lip. If it had been anyone else she knew, she would have told him to see a doctor straight away. Mikey clearly needed one. But who could they go to? Of the people who knew them, she and Donatello were the closest to doctors they had. But neither had access to medicine. April knew that the best thing for Mikey right now would be an antibiotic, but without a prescription, she couldn't get one. They couldn't very well bring Michelangelo into a doctor's office.
That brought her to another worry; would the turtles fair better with a human doctor or with a vet? April had a friend from college who was a veterinarian, one of her closer friends who, if anyone, April felt she could have trusted. If the emergency came up, she could certainly rely on Jeanie Cartagan for help. But... would Jeanie know what to do for them? They had the anatomy of creatures with which vets were used to dealing, but they could speak. Some of their human-like qualities might put them out of a vet's league. They didn't really fit in for either. Plus, April knew that with that second job, whatever it was, that Jeanie had recently taken up, she didn't have a lot of time on her hands. No, contacting her unless Mikey got even sicker than he was now was not a good idea. And she certainly wouldn't do it without the boys' consent.
All four looked up when the truck came to a stop. Leo and Raph helped Mikey out of the back, while April approached the back door of the building with her key and an alert eye and Splinter climbed into the front seat with his son.
"What is the matter, Donatello?" he asked. Don was listening to his shell cell, looking concerned.
"It's Casey," he said. "He says there's something wrong back at the lair. He's outside the warehouse, probably came looking for Raph or something, and he says... we should probably come see this."
"Aw, geez," said Raph, "Knowing him its probably some kid with a pet rat, and he's just making an excuse to hang around at the lair all night."
"He says he heard that," Donnie told him. "And it's not. It's a bunch of guys with weapons – and cameras."
"Cameras?" Leo almost laughed.
"Oooh," said Raph. "Real scary. I'm shakin' in my shell."
"Pointed at the warehouse," Don said. The meaning of this sank in, and the two brothers shut up. "They're watching it."
"Oh," said Raph. "That ain't good."
"We can't all go back," said Leo. "Some of us need to help Mikey get settled in." He thought for a moment. "You two go back and help Casey. Raph and I will help get Mikey to April's apartment, then come back and help."
Donnie nodded.
The truck sped off into the darkness, revealing the strange green things – Mr. Miller's heart jumped – and the same red haired woman standing in the alley. He signaled for the others to come forward, guns and swords and clubs at the ready. Silently, he set his camera on the seat of his van; he didn't want it hurt amidst the fighting.
Two of these creatures seemed to be supporting the third. They set him down carefully on the steps of the building. Now this was helpful. Mr. Miller smiled. He and the group of men with him jumped out of the van. The creature with the blue headband – who, they had been warned, carried the swords – put a hand on the other standing one's arm. "Did you hear that?" he whispered.
So they can talk, Miller thought. Interesting.
"What?" the other one asked. The pale moonlight reflected off his red band.
The blue one waved his arm, telling the woman to be still, and they listened carefully. Miller and company were careful to keep silent.
The one on the steps (his headband was orange) started to cough. Red and the woman turned to him immediately, but Blue was keeping his eyes and ears strained. He probably wouldn't have been able to hear anything over the sounds his sick – brother? parent? offspring? friend? – was making.
"Leo," said Red. "We gotta get Mikey inside. The cold ain't doin' him any favors."
Blue (or "Leo") looked at them; by now Orange ("Mikey") was panting, one hand (Miller noted that it had three fingers) on his chest. He clutched the blanket over his shoulders. Leo knelt in front of him and placed a three-fingered hand on his forehead.
He's still burning up, Leonardo thought, his leader's protective instinct kicking in. Raph was right, they had to get Mikey inside. It was his job to take care of his brothers when they couldn't protect themselves. Splinter had entrusted him with that duty six years ago.
"Leonardo. You must keep an eye on your brothers while I search for Raphael. I will return, but I do not know how soon. It is your responsibility to make sure Donatello and Michelangelo stay safe until I return. Keep them safe, keep them warm, keep them inside. You are the oldest. This is a heavy responsibility for someone your age, but I trust you."
"Yes, Master Splinter. I'm sorry I let him go. I didn't see him – "
"That is not your fault, my son. Do not think upon it. Focus on the task at hand."
"Yes Master Splinter."
"Freeze."
All four of them looked up. A man in black clothing stood pointing a gun at them.
"No one move," he said in a gruff, thick New York accent, "Unless I say so. You," he looked at Leonardo, "You carry swords. Take 'em out and drop 'em on the ground where I can see 'em."
Leo could hear Raph growling behind him, and held out a hand to keep his brother still. He and Raphael could easily have dodged a shot, but Mikey was in no state to move that quickly and none of them wanted anything to happen to April. Slowly, clenching his teeth and forcing back his frustration, Leonardo placed two hands on his katanas.
Suddenly, before any of them could blink, Raphael let out a loud, angry cry, and the man landed on his back with his gun, pierced by a sai, several feet away and a green foot in the middle of his chest. Leonardo tightened his grip on his swords, though now without the intention of throwing them down.
Two sets of eyes grew angry, but determined, when more men in the same black outfits appeared out of the shadows. Fighting broke out immediately.
"April!" Leo cried. "Get Mikey inside. We'll hold them off and meet you."
"Okay." April was thankful that Michelangelo, unlike some of his brothers, had the sense to know when he was too weak to be able to help his brothers. Donatello would have; Leo would have known but refused to run away regardless; and Raphael simply wouldn't have cared either way. He leaned on her arm as she led him in the back door.
"April! Mikey!" cried Raph, "Watch out!"
The two of them turned around just in time to see a dark, hooded man come running up the front steps. He sent April to the ground in one angry shove and held a club in the air, ready to strike. April closed her eyes, as there was no place to roll out of the way, and held up her arms in defense.
She never felt a blow. She opened her eyes and found that a pair of trembling green hands holding a very familiar pair of nunchucks had blocked the man's strike. A swift kick and he fell backward down the steps.
Oh, Mikey, April thought, please be careful.
The blanket had fallen off his shoulders. He ignored the sharp pain that took over his chest every time he took a deep breath, ignored the fact that his aching joints protested movement, ignored the pain in his head and the prickly cold across his skin. No one messed with April without messing with them.
"Stop!" cried a voice. It was rough, loud and strangely foreign sounding. A man who's hair lay hidden under a gray cap, with a dark jacket, black jeans and dirty skin pointed a pistol directly at Mikey's head. Everyone froze. "Sit down," said the man in a thick British accent. Michelangelo sat. "Stay where you are," he said to April, "One false move outa ye and your friend is 'istory. That goes for all of ye." Leo and Raph looked on with wide eyes. Even Raphael didn't dare move now. "Drop your weapons." The turtles obeyed. The man beckoned for several of the hooded men to help him. One took Mikey's nunchucks, and the others started to lead the youngest turtle into the shadows. "I mean it," said the man. "Any of ye move before I say so, and this one dies. I don't 'ave any qualms about killing 'im."
Leo's eyes were wide. Rarely had he felt so helpless.
"Do you want some dinner, Mikey? I think we still have some left over, and theres a bunch of different stuff we could put on it."
Michelangelo's small eyes were wide. "M'not hungry," he said.
Leonardo pulled his younger brother into a hug. "Master Splinter will be back soon. You'll see. He knows the sewers better than any of us. He'll find Raph and be back before you know it."
Mikey didn't say anything. Leo held him closer. He had pulled a blanket off his bed, and the three brothers huddled together underneath it, awaiting their Sensei's return. Long after the other two had dozed off, Leonardo was awake. He held his brothers in his ten-year old arms and watched the door, waiting.
He had been responsible for his brothers then, and a part of him still was today. That part of him was kicking poor Leonardo as he watched, empty- handed, the dark men taking his little brother away. Chasing the van even by the rooftops was no use; before long, it had disappeared over the bridge and out of sight.