Author's Notes:
Sorry about the delay, a lot of things have been happening. Small things, like getting sick and accidentally erasing half my story, THEN my backups... but mostly, it's been summertime. That's what's been happening, heat waves, vacations, and out-of-town friends visiting. Again, sorry about the embarrassing delay, I will try very hard to get the last two chapters out soon! Well, enjoy this next installment!
Disclaimer: I don't own the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, blablabla, but those who DO own the TMNT should not complain about fan fiction, which has been written NOT-for-profit, especially considering all the publicity, excitement and loyal fans it creates...
The Greatest Gifts
Chapter 6: Breathe
The lake's freezing water jolted Donatello's overheated body, and his perspiring muscles contracted reflexively. Diving into the lake's surprisingly chilling depths gave him a shocking yet exhilarating rush. However, Donatello barely even noticed. Oh, how he wished this was just an ordinary evening. He should be home, safe and dry, absorbed in his computer and latest electronic projects. His only concern would have been the errors popping up as he tried to compile his computer programs, or perhaps the kinks forming in his neck as he hunched over and soldered electronic components. A peaceful and normal evening.
Then again, such idealistic thoughts made Donatello question his sanity. When you were a mutant, there was no such thing as normal. When you were a hunted ninja, there was no such thing as peaceful.
Donatello was a man of science, of logic and rational reason. He thoroughly enjoyed loosing himself in scientific theories, political contemplation, and worldly issues. The broad range of knowledge and vast trivia stuffed into his green cranium was his gift, it was his passion, and it was his life.
Tonight, he was realising that it was also a curse.
Donatello hardly noticed the jarring temperature of the lake, who's icy silken embrace greedily leeched his precious body heat. Icicle claws scraped maliciously against his leathery skin, draining physical sensation from his exerted body. Unfortunately, this numbness did not offer any merciful relief; it only amplified his mental and emotional turmoil. His mind was far too absorbed with the abhorrence of his situation. He was plagued by his cold-hearted logic, yet at the same time, his beloved objectiveness was currently unattainable, and he felt nakedly exposed without it. So helpless... his brother was dying.
Donatello held Raphael tightly as he swam downward, and the clouded opaque water eventually revealed the cluttered bottom of the lake. He noticed not the beauty of the delicate plant life as it gently swayed to the water's unheard melody. His eyes failed to notice the scurrying fish whom instinctively bolted away from the monstrous figures of the four turtles. He didn't even remark the stereotypical amount of littering bottles and old shoes carelessly freckling the underwater surface.
Donatello's attention was currently devoted to Raphael.
He kept a firm grasp on his brother's bleeding shoulder, desperately attempting to extinguish the fiery scarlet flames that continuously fed into the water. Along with the blood loss taking it's toll, Donatello could also see the effects that the cold water had on his cold-blooded brother. He knew exactly what was happening to Raphael's body, exactly how his biology was reacting... If Donatello wanted to, (and he absolutely did not want to), he could calculate his brother's exact chances of survival. Quantify his brother's death. Not only were such horrendous thoughts unwanted and highly unwarranted, they were terrifying.
His knowledge was proving to be a curse. If only he could halt such trains of thought, Donatello's state of mind would greatly improve. But, he could not stop. Try as he must, he just couldn't prevent the morbid thoughts from ambushing his mind. He couldn't help knowing what he knew, nor could he control his reeling mind. He was frightened, and disgusted with himself. His ample resource of medical and biological knowledge was haunting him. Yet, if they made it back to the lair in time, it would also be that very knowledge that saved his brother's life. It was a gift, and a curse.
More than anything, Donatello just wished he could clear his mind, if only for a moment. Yet, he couldn't allow that. He had to be sharply alert in order to save Raph, and lead them out of this lake. For Donatello had an idea. A plan.
Leonardo was still holding onto Raphael's other side. Knowing his blue-clad brother, he would refuse to let go, and it was quite possible that his hands would have to be pried away. Leo seemed conflicted between watching where they were heading in the murky bottoms of the lake, and ensuring that their brother didn't fall unconscious or release his held breath. Leo seemed concerned that if he looked away for a moment, only a moment, he would loose his brother to the unconquerable force that threatened to steal Raphael from them all. Forever.
Donatello would have done anything to reassure Leonardo, or to ease his own mind. Anything to burn away the medical facts that kept telling him that his brother wasn't going to survive. That he couldn't survive.
His only salvation was in knowing that the laws of science were still broken, even in today's age.
Still, this was little solace, and Donatello couldn't stop worrying about his wounded brother. Letting Leonardo monitor Raphael's state, Donatello struggled to see clearly in the cold dark water, his eyes trying to catch a glimpse of the item he sought. They needed to swim closer to the banks of the lake, else his plan would never succeed. He would have to lead his brothers in that direction...
Donatello was concentrating so hard, and his worried thoughts were so distracting, that he didn't hear the subtle sound of bubbles releasing into the water...
Suddenly Raphael's body felt anchored, and no longer drifted easily under Donatello's guiding hands. Don's head snapped instantly toward his brothers, and found a pale and frightened Leonardo frantically helping an ailing Raphael. Leo's hand was clamped over their brother's beak, and the occasional ripple of valuable oxygen escaped his constricting clutch. Leonardo's other hand was patting Raph's face, trying to reopen his brother's drooping eyes, while desperately seeking a sparkle of recognition in Raphael's dazed expression.
Donatello's heart froze. He suppressed the scientific facts that leapt into his head, informing him exactly how his brother was being sucked into unconsciousness, or a coma... No, Raphael wasn't going to leave them! Donatello raised his brother's eyelid, and saw his pupil slowly fluttering out of sight, oblivious to Leo's adamant patting. No, Donatello wasn't going to lethis brother leave them! Donatello squeezed his brother's injured shoulder cruelly, praying that at some level Raphael could still feel the agony from his wounds. He didn't know what else to do, not while they were underwater, and it was the first idea that crossed his mind. Pain was a valuable tool that told your body when something was wrong. Ignoring Leonardo's disturbed expression, Donatello brutally punched his brother's wounded shoulder, hoping that Raphael's mind would receive his message, because something was horribly wrong.
It worked. Even though Donatello wasn't sure why it worked, instead of making things worse. Raphael's eyes were suddenly wide with shock as he dartedly glanced between his brothers. He was awake, although just barely. His face looked confused and muddled, and his eyes uncomprehending. Still, he was awake, and Donnie felt light-headed as relief flooded over him. Colour slowly returned to Leo's face, as he protectively refused to release his hand from Raphael's mouth. Donatello thought that was a wise idea, because Raph didn't seem to be aware of much, including the fact that they were underwater.
This was certainly the most stressful swim the turtles had ever experienced, and that was a concern all by itself. Their rocketing stress levels were going to deplete their lung's air reserves quicker than expected. They might be forced to resurface too early. This night was filled with surprises. Horrible nerve-racking and heart-shattering surprises.
Donatello had absolutely no time to waste. They had only just submerged minutes ago, but already the passage of time pressed down on Donatello with such suffocating pressure, that each second grazed him painfully as it passed by. Donatello indicated to Leonardo that they should follow his lead. The brainiac turtle boldly faced the direction that he suspected would lead them to the closest river bank. With Raphael tugged limple along, the three other turtles swam confidently and easily through the water. Their swift and fluid movements boasted of an innate natural grace, which they owed to their amphibian heritage.
Through the hazy black water, the sight of the softly sloping river bank materialised like a ghostly apparition. Donatello felt a temporary rush of victory; he hadn't led his brothers astray! As he noticeably felt tension in his shoulders melt into the heartless water, he finally realised the full extent of the pressures that Leonardo faced with leadership. How could he do this every day and retain his sanity?
Michaelango started to swim past Donatello, heading upward for the shelterless shore, but Donatello grabbed his leg with predatory reflexes. A confident tug halted his brother's movements immediately. Mikey looked down at his brother in confusion, and Donatello could only shake his head. With all the Foot Soldiers patrolling the park, the turtles could only assume that their enemies would be scourging the shoreline. It was too risky to resurface, not only could they get caught, they could also accidentally lead their enemies back to the lair...
Their flight into the water had been a temporary and desperate action. Yet, Donatello had an idea that could allow them to escape reliably undetected, while providing a shortcut back home. An uninterrupted shortcut. No one else knew of his plan, not yet, but they didn't need to. They only needed to have faith in him. Donatello looked inquisitively at Leonardo, as if searching for approval. The blue-clad turtle was too intently focused on Raphael to notice... He seemed to have passively accepted Donatello's sudden reign of command, or at least trusted that his brother had a plan. Everyone else, Leonardo included, were utterly lacking any other clever ideas.
Donatello started swimming parallel to the earthy river bank, his hand still clamped on Raphael's bandaged shoulder, while his other brothers followed in close pursuit. As they continued to swim, and as Donatello searched fervently for their destination, he couldn't help but further doubt himself. Shouldn't he have found it by now? Had he made a horrible mistake? If so, then Raphael was going to pay for it with his life...
To state that Donatello felt butterflies in his stomach would be the grandest understatement of his entire mortal existence. His insides writhed and heaved with perturbed stress, his supper threatening to upheave itself, while churning stomach acids scorched his esophagus. Disquiet uncertainties sapped all the moisture from his throat until it was hoarsely dry, a rather frustrating affliction considering the surplus of water that surrounded him. He gulped painfully against a swelling lump, the anxious motion struggling to scrape down the cracked and moistureless terrain of his throat. He was gaining even further respect for Leonardo's fearless leadership. He now fully understood the implication of the word "fearless".
Finally, Donatello found the item he sought, and not a moment too soon. Ten minutes hadn't even passed since they dived into the foreboding lake, but his body was already strongly suggesting that Donatello seek fresh air. If he felt that way, he didn't want to think about how Raphael felt. Of course, he couldn't help but think about how Raphael felt, as he inwardly cursed his morbid train of thought for the umpteenth time that night.
He approached the elusive object that he had been searching. It was a steel grate that covered a moderately-sized tunnel, one of many that were designed for regulating the water levels in the Harlem Meer. If Donatello knew the layout of the sewers, (which he did extremely well, having studied the blueprints), then this tunnel would safely lead them out of lake and into the city's main sewer conduits. Into their domain. A direct route home, concealed from their enemy's spying eyes.
It had become obvious that Donatello's brothers finally realised his plan, for Mikey was already unscrewing the grate with a shiruken throwing-star. Donatello went to help his brother, but stopped when he felt Leonardo kick his leg in order to get his attention. He looked at Raphael, and saw that his facial expression was peacefully lax, and his relaxed eyelids were once again shut. Donatello's brow furrowed in concern as he immediately grabbed Raphael's wrist and checked his pulse. It was weak, slow and barely detectable. He was gone, sucked into the seductive oblivion of unconsciousness, a formidable foe whom Raph couldn't escape indefinitely. Donatello knew they wouldn't be able to wake him this time. Honestly, he had been surprised Raphael had remained awake for as long as he had. All they could do for their brother now would be to escape the lake, and as quick as possible. Leonardo seemed to read Donatello's mind, or at least his brother's grim facial expression. The alarmed blue-clad turtle gripped Raphael tightly against his plastron, as if his body heat could rescue their quickly fading brother. Leo gingerly replaced Donatello's grasp on Raph's wounded shoulder, and let Donatello help Michaelango work on the wicked metal bars that impeded their liberation.
The screws were slippery and hidden beneath unfathomable layers of slime. They also seemed corroded... Donatello wondered if they would respond to brute force. With pursed lips and devoted concentration, Donatello and Michaelango quickly managed to completely detach the grate on one side. Donatello hastily slipped his Bo between the grate and conduit. Using the staff as as a lever, he forcibly released the horrid grating from it's frame. The thudding noise produced by the wrenched metal sounded strangely dull through the blanketing water. Despite himself, Donatello was mildly disappointed by the lack of victorious clamour, the lack of a fanfare in ode to their intense endeavour.
Leonardo wasted no time in squeezing himself and Raphael into the conduit first. There was just enough room for the two turtles to fit cosily. Donatello went in next, anxiously watching Leonardo struggle to grip the slippery conduit as he forced himself onward.
Donatello's journey was unexpectedly interrupted when he felt a rough pulling on his toes. He looked down to see Mikey frantically waving at him to exit the tunnel. Donatello cringed as dire thoughts streamed freely in his mind, and countless horrible scenarios were suggested by his overactive imagination. What was wrong now?
Donnie slipped out of his beloved passage of escape, his hands lingering longingly on the metal conduit, and his movements weighted with his reluctance. Michaelangelo was pointing at his ankle with wide eyes. Donatello's eyes also grew substantially when he noticed his brother's plight. Michealangelo had somehow managed to wedge his foot into a chasmic crack along the conduit's deteriorating edges. It wasn't even a hole, just a small gap that had been formed when Donatello tore off the grating. Still, the metal would not give, and his foot was captured.
Leave it to Mikey to find death-traps anywhere and everywhere.
It was crucial that Mikey not panic, but it looked like he was quickly falling into it's vicelike grip. Donatello tried to make light of the situation by placing one hand on his hip, and displaying his best "I can't take you anywhere" facial expression, before quickly sliding his Bo staff from it's leather strap. Despite his inexhaustible reserve of scientific knowledge, Donatello still clung to his ninjitsu basics. It was always his first impulse for solving any problem: Donatello grabbed his Bo. Even as a science-buff and innovative inventor, he believed western civilisation highly underestimated the value of large wooden sticks.
Donatello quickly took a closer look at his brother's trapped ankle. It was securely stuck. This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all. Donnie couldn't even tell how his brother had managed to trap his foot in the first place. As Mikey wiggled and tried to dislodge his limb, he saw the jagged metal tear at his brother's flesh. Donatello quickly grabbed Mikey's leg in order to immobilise the foot, while he fretted over the rust and filth encompassing the torn metal. His brother relaxed under Don's embrace, the warm and comforting physical contact doing wonders for Mikey's state of mind. With a reassuring look from Donatello, Michaelangelo let his body relax, allowing his brainiac brother to take control of the situation.
That is, until he saw Donatello raise his Bo in preparation to strike. Michaelangelo's eyes enlarged and his hands started to flail their objections. It was an amusing picture of his brother, one that Donatello might have found comical, if the situation wasn't so pressingly serious.
Although Mikey's hands wildly flailed in protestation, Michaelangelo's leg didn't try to squirm out of his brother's grasp, nor did he grab ahold of the Bo to stop it's descent. Of course, Michaelango was floating awkwardly in the water due to his trapped and injured ankle, unable to move his body adequately, and incapable of verbal complaint. Still, Donatello liked to think that Michealangelo trusted him entirely.
With quick and effortless preparation, he aimed his staff, then brought it down as quickly as possible. The movement was hindered by the countervailing water, and the Bo landed right next to his brother's ankle with a barely audible thud. The metal silently resisted with unrelenting stubbornness.
Brute force had worked the first time, Donatello didn't see any reason why it shouldn't work this time. He tried again, lifting his Bo even higher above his head, then releasing it in a fury that strove to counter the water's thick obstruction. This time, he clearly heard the vibration of the metal, as it shuddered reproachably, but it still didn't budge. Donatello pressed his lips together in purposeful determination, and brought down his Bo again. The perpetually unyielding metal mocked his iron-fisted efforts, and Michaelangelo grew increasingly nervous and agitated.
This definitely wasn't good. What was tonight's obsession with death? It seemed that everything that could possibly go wrong, was going wrong. Thus Donatello found himself worrying about two brothers now, instead of just one. In fact, he was starting to fear for all their lives. He prayed that fate was merely testing them, and didn't actually plan to claim half his family, all on the same evening. What sordid and wicked inspiration had gripped the fates this night, that they might attempt an ironic twist of events, and permit a humanoid turtle to drown to death?... No. He mustn't permit such thoughts. He would rescue Michaelangelo. He would save Raphael. This horrible night wasn't going to destroy his family!
Donatello paused, and tried to ease his mind enough to concentrate on the issue at hand. He was the type to think before he acted. He was also a ninja. Donatello wasn't going to give up on his approach just yet. He was just simply about it all wrong. Anyone could take a wooden staff, aim it, then thrust it forcibly at it's target. It took the correct mindset to properly wield a Bo. Applying force onto his beloved weapon was just an afterthought that followed his disciplined mentality. His weapon was more than just an extension of his movements, it was an extension of his body, his mind, his soul. This time, when Donatello raised his staff, he didn't just fling it toward the deceptively strong deteriorating edge of the conduit. He envisioned the Bo going through the metal.
Once satisfied that he was adequately prepared, he snapped his weapon down so quickly, he was nearly hurled upward. When the Bo's blunt end collided with the opposing metal, he ignored the conduit's attempts at defiance, and continued to follow through with the action. The metal warped and bent as it was pushed away by resolute wood, and Michaelangelo's foot slid free.
Donatello didn't allow himself a moment for celebration. He quickly leaned in to inspect the liberated limb, noticing that not only had the skin been lacerated from the serrated metal, it was already visibly swollen. Best not to risk Michealangelo going into shock while submerged underwater. He thrust an end of his Bo into this brother's hands, who submissively clutched it without a second thought. Donatello held onto the staff's other end with one hand, then re-entered the treacherous conduit with his brother in-tow.
It didn't take long to catch up to Leonardo, who's movements were slowed by Raph's body. Donatello was actually surprised by how quickly they had caught up. It had felt like Michaelangelo had been trapped forever, but that had obviously been an illusion brought on by stress. As he was reminded of his brother's close-call, he looked down quickly to ensure that his brother was still attached to the other end of his Bo.
The tunnel's gentle incline reassured Donatello that they would soon find themselves in the sewers. Still, when he saw the small pipes feeding tap water into the tunnel, he knew they had reached the end of their watery passage, and not a moment too soon. Not only did Donatello's lungs burn yearningly for air, but he was starting to believe that this claustrophobic and dreary conduit would become their ghastly depressing tomb. Leonardo and Raphael's legs quickly disappeared from the water, and Donatello suspected that Leo had pulled them out of the passage. Before his lungs could discard rational control, and succumb to reflexive impulses that would inhale contaminated water, Donatello's head finally broke through the water's surface with a satisfying smack. He expelled the polluted air from his lungs, and greedily sucked in the stale and rank air. Never before had the smelly air of the sewers felt so nourishingly fresh.
He quickly hefted himself out of the icy water, and clambered onto the soggy and grimy bricks of the sewers. His body hugged the ground welcomely as he crawled away. Still holding onto this wooden staff, and his movement leaden with tired constraint, he lazily pulled his Bo out of the water. He heard the distinct splash of his brother breaking free of the water's perilous grasp. He forcibly willed himself to find the energy to pull Michaelangelo out of the water, and helped his brother to lay beside him. As Donatello sucked in more rejuvenating air, and as the weight of their predicament pressed down upon him, he felt his strength return with full force. Donatello quickly checked on Mikey's ankle. It didn't look much worse, and his brother gave him a thumb's up as he panted fresh oxygen eagerly.
Leaving his brother to rest momentarily, Donatello turned toward Leo, who sat cradling Raphael in his lap, desperately stroking the motionless turtle's face as he whispered desperate words of encouragement. As Donatello crawled toward them, his soft-speaking brother looked up with untold fear in his eyes. "He's not breathing," his voice wavered with loud and high-pitched tones. Donatello hastily scrambled to Leo's side, who gently yet swiftly lowered his brother to the uninviting damp ground. Leo tilted Raph's head back and cupped his hands around his gaping mouth, while Donatello grabbed their brother's lifeless wrist. He gasped at his wounded brother's cold flesh. How could he have let Raph talk them into escaping through the water? What sort of idiotic lapse of reasoning had snatched him on this awful night?
Fate was surely pushing their limits, as if tonight was some horribly unethical test.
Donatello would never have imagined that after holding his breath for nearly twenty minutes on the bottom of a lake, he'd be holding his breath again so soon. He couldn't breath, he couldn't talk, all he could manage to do was watch Leonardo breathe for their brother, as Donatello clung onto Raph's wrist, frantically searching for a pulse.
Moments like these were Donatello's worst fear. A bombardment of sensations that warned of a pivotal episode in the tale of his life. A horror so unfathomable, that mere words couldn't describe the cyclone of thoughts and emotions that savagely tore at his heart, a horror that left it's mark on his soul. Waiting, with bated breath, he prayed to whatever gods---or demons---happened to overhear his desperate plea... just to detect a heartbeat. Any heart beat. Unsurpassable fear strangled his throat, uncontrollable panic constricted his chest excruciatingly... He felt like he was dying himself. Only through paramount feats of inner-strength did his sanity remain intact, if only just long enough to wait for that heartbeat. Those cursed eternal seconds where he restlessly awaited to uncover what fate had dictated not only for his loved one, but for himself. Selfless, selfish, fearful, dreadful and desperate thoughts accumulated in such magnitude, that Donatello distinctly felt as though his head was about to burst...
Not nearly as quickly as the anxious moment commenced, it was brought to a heart-wrenching finale.
Donatello dug his fingers further into Raph's wrist, careful to not mistake his own heartbeat for the one he so desperately sought. He was adamantly determined to find his brother's circulation, and he was not disappointed. He felt a faint and highly irregular pulsation in Raph's arm. "He's alive, though barely," Donatello breathed, feeling exhausted, and left ravaged from his emotional fears. He watched in angst as Leonardo breathed into their brother, determined to resuscitate the fading spark in Raph's body.
With every life-giving breath Leonardo granted into Raphael's lungs, he stepped back for a brief moment, waiting for their brother's muscles to resume on their own. Every time nothing happened, and Leonardo hurriedly gave Raph another breath. Donnie continued to monitor their brother's pulse as he watched unblinking, hardly aware that Michaelango has fallen to his knees beside him. He heard the orange-clad turtle silently plea for their brother to return to them, but he barely heard his words. His own mind was racing as he fearfully wondered if Raphael was dying, or if he had gone too long without oxygen underwater... if he would live only to be a vegetable for the rest of his life.
He watched with wide eyes as Leonardo gave Raphael another breath, but this time Raph gently convulsed, coughed, and drew in his own shaky breath. The moment was so exhilarating that Donatello felt dizzy. He slumped and had to hold himself up with a trembling arm that gripped the ground. Michaelango squealed his joyful congratulations, "Way to go, Leo!" The blue-clad turtle smiled as some of his stress was alleviated, but wasted no time in scooping Raphael into his arms.
Donatello had led them to a short-cut, and from the layout of the city's water pipes, he knew exactly which path would take them home. He quickly squeezed Leo's shoulder, but before he took off running, he remembered another brother who was also in need of aid. He briskly helped Mikey up, and with his arm linked firmly around his shell, helping support Mikey's weight. Donatello started running in what he confidently assured them was the correct direction.
"How far away... from the lair?" Leonardo inquired between gasping breaths.
"Not too far..." Donatello responded unconvincingly, while struggling breathlessly to speak while he ran. "Maybe Raphael should... start patrolling areas closest to home..." Donatello pondered gravely.
Mikey responded with a weak chuckle, and offered his own opinion, "Dude... Raph shouldn't be allowed... to patrol alone... ever."
Leonardo gave Mikey an annoyed glance, obviously seeing no humour in his brother's statement. Yet, he didn't comment. Donatello noticed that while Leonardo carried Raphael tenderly in his arms, he also held a firm grip on their brother's wrist in order to monitor his pulse. Or maybe to simply assure himself that their brother was still alive.
Leonardo turned back to Donatello. "How long?" he asked, his abruptly short sentence speaking volumes in it's urgency. Donatello felt panged by his brother's persistent questioning, for Leo wasn't going to like his answers...
"Approximately..." he hesitated nervously, but covered it up by pretending to do a mental calculation. "...about twenty-five minutes..." he finally blurted out. Leonardo gave him an appalled look, and Donatello felt guilty, as if his words had been insulting. "Maybe twenty..." he added in an awkward effort to sound reassuring. Judging from the expression on his brother's face, his attempt had failed marvellously.
It pained Donatello to watch Leonardo look at Raphael with such a dreadful and frightened expression. Leo's face was then overrun with dedicated determination, and he started sprinting even quicker, the fleeting speed of his flight saying more than any mere words. Donatello and Mikey nearly tripped as they tried to keep up the amazing pace. Mikey eventually pushed away from Donatello, willing to risk the feverish race on his own. Even with his injured foot, he faired this devilish sprint better unaided. Chances were that Mikey wouldn't be able to walk on his foot at all tomorrow, not after all this... but tomorrow had never before seemed so far away, so unattainable, and so insignificant.
No more words were uttered during their hurried trip home. The gruelling pace didn't allow anything to be released from their throats, other than the raw rasping of their struggled breathing. Donatello was amazed by the fluid grace Leonardo managed to adopt while carrying the burdensome weight of Raphael.
They made it home in record time. At least, Donatello thought they did, he couldn't actually tell for certain. Michaelangelo was the first to lunge at the hidden latch that blocked the entrance to the lair. He all but threw himself onto the ground, his knees scuffing roughly against the rugged texture of the sewers. He carelessly tossed the latch aside, allowing it to rattle and echo loudly throughout the underground tunnels. A gentle glow from the well-lit lair below enveloped Michaelango's head, and dramatically blanketed his silhouette. His face looked up as his brothers, waiting for them to once again take the lead.
Donatello turned to Leonardo and spoke, "How about I..." He tried to offer his help in lowering Raph down into their home. However, his brother swept past him, and before Donatello could even complete a sentence, Leo disappeared down the hatch. Leonardo's movements were as fluid and graceful as ever. He was completely unhindered by the heavy load in his arms. Donatello merely shrugged to Mikey, and quickly followed suit. He wasn't as eloquent as his brother, even though his arms were free, and Mikey managed to land even more heavily after them both.
It was an amazing feeling to be back home. The lair was a beautiful sight for sore eyes. It was an old and abandoned subway station, complete with antique box cars that had been converted into bedrooms, and an impressive amount of living space. Yet, the real beauty laid not in the lair's impressive size, nor it's luxurious comforts. It was in Donatello's emotional attachment, the safety and inviolated shelter that was associated with his home, with his family. Him and his brothers were beaten and exhausted, and Raph hung precariously in the balance between life and death. Yet, now that they were home, nothing seemed as frightening anymore, not as desolate or despairing. A nurturing warmth had embraced Donatello as soon as he had stepped foot onto the familiar cobblestone flooring of his beloved home. It was similar to the priceless comfort of a mother's touch, or a father's protective presence. This was his home, and he felt invincible. Well, almost...
Donatello was even more relieved when he immediately spotted Splinter, who was waiting by the entrance for their arrival. The sensei sat in a meditative pose on the cushionless ground. When Splinter's gaze found it's way to Raphael's wounded body, he didn't react externally. He didn't cry out or shout his distress. He didn't rush to his son's side, or demand what had happened. His eyes didn't even twitch. His expression hadn't even changed, yet Donatello noticed that his eyes were already sad, his face drooped with tiredness, and his posture tensed with stress. Had their father expected their unsafe return? His sensei never ceased to surprise Donatello.
Pushing such thoughts aside, he followed as Leonardo silently rushed to a small room they had been progressively transformed into a medical laboratory. Leo didn't even switch on the light, as he flew to the flavourless metallic table they used as a cot from the severely wounded, or rather the proficiently bleeding. The sickening sweet scent of disinfectant cleaners mixed with the copper smell of blood invaded Donatello's nostrils as he entered the small chamber. He distractedly flicked on the powerful fluorescent lights. With a loud buzz, the spotlights activated themselves, and all three turtles gasped at the illuminated frame of their brother's battered body. Never before had they seen him in such a sickening shade of green, along the numerous reddening bruises and lacerations covering the extent of his body. His bloodied shoulder was caked with dried brown blood, as fresh scarlet streams relentlessly leaked through his makeshift bandages. Donnie heard Mikey's soft whimper, Leonardo's increased rate of shocked breathing, and Master Splinter's heartbroken sigh.
Donatello blinked rapidly to release himself from the spellbinding anguish inspired by the vision of their hurt brother. Dizzy and flustered with hysterical distress, Donatello felt himself run to the room's small sink and thoroughly wash his hands. He even heard himself shouting some sort of instructions, while he grabbed a few carefully selected supplies from a nearby shelf. As his body moved and his voice dictated orders, he felt strangely detached, as if he were a passive bystander observing his own life. It was a most disturbing sensation, his thoughts racing frantically while his body independently knew exactly how to operate...
Once Donatello had collected the appropriate medical supplies, he resisted the urge to hesitate. He could feel them burning into the back of his skull. No matter how many times Donatello faced medical emergencies, he could never get used to this daunting feeling. He gathered his courage, then turned around to face them: three sets of hopeful and helpless eyes, all staring expectantly in his direction, completely and utterly reliant on him to save them all from the ever-creeping darkness and despair. It was all up to Donatello, to save Raphael. To save them all. Oh god...
On shaky legs, he stepped up to Raphael's side. He heard himself give out more orders while he spilled the supplies he had been holding onto a tray located by Raph's pale and lifeless head. Was he still alive? He couldn't tell, how was he going to know... a heart monitor, didn't he have a self-made heart monitor? Had he already asked someone to fetch it for him? Donatello's hands were already cutting away the sticky and soaked bandages from Raph's shoulder. The blood still flowed freely, but it was definitely tapering... That was not a good sign, definitely not a good sign. Oh god...
Just breathe, a calming voice inside his head intoned soothingly.
The voice had no effect.
Donnie's thoughts became panicked and his shouts to his brothers became louder and more insistent. It was the oddest phenomena, no sooner had he finished voicing an order to his family, did he completely forget the words he had just uttered. He couldn't retain anything, yet he somehow managed to continue with his lifesaving efforts. In a way, a part of him had everything under control, while another part realised that he was loosing himself... Donatello could feel himself tumbling into uselessness.
He discarded the shredded remains of the shoulder's bandages, and his hands worked their way into the wound itself. To his horror, he found that he was shaking. No, he had to subdue his tremors, else he would do more harm than good! Yet, he couldn't. He gasped in a frenzy of overpowering hopelessness. Oh god...
A small click echoed in the chamber, and although the sound was subtle, it was strange enough to call Donatello's attention. His head snapped behind him to locate the source of the mysterious noise. He saw Leonardo's hand leaving the "play" button from a stereo system mounted onto the wall. Instantly, Donatello's ears were serenaded by the symphonic melodies of a trilling stringed orchestra. How had Leonardo known to do that? Had he told him?
Donatello looked around him quickly. Mikey stood by with fresh towels and bandages, and Master splinter held a bowl of water. Someone had already attached the receptors of his home-brewed heart monitor onto Raphael's chest, and it's uneven bleeps signified that his brother was still alive. Greatly distressed and barely clinging onto life, but alive nonetheless. On a tray within Donatello's reach, there were supplies that included a specially designed needle accompanied with biodegradable thread. One of his hands now held gauze soaked with disinfectant, and he was currently cleaning Raphael's major injury. It would appear that Donatello did have everything control. As he focused back on Raph's wounds, he saw that he was no longer trembling. His thoughts were finally focused and confident, for the first time since finding Raph broken on the battlefield. No, since Raphael had called him on his Shell Cell, then hung up on him with his cryptic farewell, leaving Donatello to track his signal...
No, that wasn't quite true. Hadn't Donatello been focused the entire night? Hadn't he been in complete control? He had found Raphael, thanks to his marvellous understanding of electronics. Donatello had bandaged Raphael, he had kept him conscious for as long as possible, and now he was mending his brother's wounds. He wasn't a licensed doctor, nor was he a graduated engineer, but he was the closest thing to civilisation his family had. Donatello provided heat in the winter, warmth in their water, cold preservation in their fridge... He was more than a simple handy man or Mr Fix-It. He was the only entity that could ever supply his family with "essential services". He was their hospital, their family doctor, their electrician, their mechanic...
Donatello didn't want to think about where his family would be without him. They needed him, and not only because he was able to bring a piece of civilisation to their outcast doorstep. Sure, Donatello's thoughts were reeling, but that was only a very small part of his mind... but he had actually been extremely level-headed all night, logical, cool and smooth. His quick actions and thinking tonight surely saved Michaalangelo, safely navigated them out of the lake, and kept Raphael alive.
Was this what Splinter meant when he had called them all "gifts to each other" earlier? He hadn't before realised what a delicate balance his family maintained. Each of them had their own valuable skills, talents and characteristics... They complimented each other so well, each and every one of them playing a key role in their mutual survival...
Survival. Donatello could reflect on his family matters at a later date, all that mattered now was survival. Raphael's survival, to be exact. Yes, it was all in Donatello's hands now. He accepted the responsibilities that came with his "brainiac" talents, he welcomed them lovingly with open arms. Tonight, he was their medic, and he could handle himself as such.
Breathe, that mercifully soothing voice inside his head reminded him. Donatello slowed his breaths into deep and regulated movements, as he worked expertly in disinfecting and repairing his brother's broken flesh. He allowed himself a brief look at his brother's face while he reached for a new item from the metallic tray. Seeing his brother's mouth sagging open, that voice in his head repeated itself, although this time it's message was more of a hopeful plea.
Just breathe.
To Be Continued...
Further Author's Notes:
The conduits feeding water into the Harlem Meer is based on reality. The Harlem Meer is indeed a lake in Central Park, and it is highly maintained by New York City. The conduit I described was my own invention, based on the "water shed" system that delivers tap water into the lake. Guess what, people can also go fishing in the Harlem Meer! I thought that was interesting, considering it's in the heart of New York city, the Big Apple... It's a little hard to picture the stereotypical New Yorker taking a nice relaxing fishing trip to the Harlem Meer... but that's just stereotypes for you!
Also, turtles hold their breath underwater by slowing down their metabolism and circulation. (that's why Donnie was worried about their stress-levels underwater).
Notes to the Reviewers:
Mikaela's Spade:
Glad you like my portrayal of Mikey, lots of ppl did! that makes me so
very pleased, for I took great care and deliberation on making that
scene just right. This chapter was a little different, no fighting, but
still suspenseful (hopefully). They kept swimming, though! Thanks for
dropping by!
Lunar-ninja:
hehe. "The Fool on the Hill" is a Beatles song, and the music video has
a silly depiction of the fool on the hill, with silly dancing, really
silly dancing, done by Paul McCartney himself. The end. Oh wait, you
told me not to elaborate... sorry! oh well... from now on, I'll just do
a happy dance instead, 'kay? Thanks for the review!
Linz:
Hey, thanks for the email. Here's the promised update! yay, update! i
guess you gotta be patient in the summertime, for that's when authors
update the least. It just... happens. No time. Sorry. But, I loved that
you emailed me! That was awesome, and I think it helped me to finally
release this update... so, thanks lots, for everything! I'm
glad you loved chapter five, and that you are so enthusiastic about
this story. It's a lot of fun and excitement for me, I can tell you!
thanks again!
Chibi Rose Angel:
Yeah, I love the angst and suspense, I love cliff-hangers too, even
though I complain heavily to all the authors who put us through them...
cliff-hangers are the best way to end a chapter! One of these days, I
will torture the readers by ending a story on a cliff-hanger.. mua ha
ha, I've always wanted to do that. I can deliver the goods, eh? well,
if you think that of me, I better work hard to live up to that
standard! I'm glad you and Sassy think my style draws in readers and
leave them begging for more... actually, that's what i try to do when I
perform (being a performing artist, that is) so I'm not surprised it
comes through in my writing.
Hmm, you make a good point about focusing on the brotherly and
family aspect of the TMNT.
I think that's important.
The only TMNT games I've played are for the original nintendo
system, but boy did I play them, I played them a lot! I should buy the
one for the gamecube.
You are very right: the TMNT addicts are the best! Everyone here
is wonderful, it's great! I love it! I also think we'll get on great!
Thank you so very much for your encouragement!
captkablooey:
Hehe, Pulp Fiction? I think the drug use and sex puts that movie in a
very different category... Yeah, all the turtles showed up. They all
had to, this is my first TMNT fic, silly!
kaya lizzie:
Yeah, it's going to take a while for poor Raphy to be in tiptop
shape... if I write a sequel, I'll probably but him in physical therapy
and everything, hehe! Yeah, water, turtles... it seemed like a logical
thing to do. I have to admit, even I didn't know how they would escape
at first... it took a long time to come to that conclusion.
Buslady Of SoCal:
Okay, okay! I'm sorry I said it sucked! I shall never imply that
anything sucks every again! Oh, and your stuff doesn't suck either!
This is a suck-free zone! oh geeze, blood pressure pills? Ok, you
aren't allowed to read anymore of my stories until you make sure you've
taken your pills! I don't want you to die, nor do I want your death on
my hands! So, take it easy, and stuff, please!
Ted: Yeah, you are definitely right, it's really intense, too intense. I did I lot of battle scenes, it was hard to write all of that at once. I did have chapters that broke up the fighting, but I couldn't get it to fit chronologically into my story, and I didn't want to spoil any surprises... so I left it as it is, but I appreciate the suggesting, and will be keeping that in mind when I write in the future! Thanks a lot!
Melodist:
Welcome back, I'm glad you liked my rendition of Raphy... considering
how good you are with Raph, that means a lot! Haha, yeah, I beat up
Raph a lot. And, I must admit, I enjoyed doing it... -(guilty look)-...
Donnie and Raph's conversation chocked you up? Awww, that's so sweet
-(hug)-! I tried to make it touching, looks like I succeeded. I also
chocked up when I read the last chapter in your misadventures story,
that was incredible! Yeah, I love angst. I love writing it. That, and
action. I save comical scenes to those who do it best (like yourself,
you're a pretty funny person! I don't know anyone else who can combine
angst and comedy so well like you!)
well, moving on... HAH, yes, it's just like Raph to be stubborn!
Still, that was pretty bad timing on his part, bothering Leo when he's
trying to fight off the foot soldiers. -(kicks Raph as well)- Hahaha,
I'm sorry about all the cliffhangers... actually, I'm not. Sorry, but
cliffhangers are my thing. hehe. I love your reviews, they were
entertaining! Thanks for adding me to your favourites list! yay!
I'm glad you love my descriptive quality, just remember you're very
talented yourself, and your style is
perfect! Lots of people say they can't write fight scenes, that's okay!
there's plenty I can't write as well, just stick to what you do best,
with the occasional stabs into the unknown, we're all here to support
each other!
Ramica:
Greetings, fellow canadian.
Sais are "jittes"? yup, never heard that one before! hehe. I'm glad you
found Raph realistic. Raph really needs Leo's calm control to keep him
in check, doesn't he?
I thought about having Leo call for back-up as soon as his instincts
kicked in... but then I would have had to change the story around a
lot, hehe. So, I just let Leo assume that he'd have time to call for
back-up if he found Raph... (stupid thing to do, eh?). when he finally
found Raph, he didn't have a chance to call... which I hope added more
to the suspense, not knowing who was coming to Raph's aid, and such.
But, you are right, Leo should have called for back-up, and I think
he's learned his lesson, and so have I. Next time, I'll definitely work
that into the story. (I was wondering if anyone else would pick up on
that, it's cool that you did! nice job) Thanks for your input, and your
compliments. Hope you drop by for the rest of the story, as well!
The REAL Cheese Monkey:
How long can a mutant turtle hold his breath underwater? I actually did
the scientific research into turtles to see -how- they hold their
breath... even though they are fictional characters... who's biology
makes no damn sense... I still did the research. also, if the research
dictated that Raph shouldn't have survived, then he wasn't going to. I
came close to killing him off in this chapter. But, he survived!... for
now. mua ha ha ha!
Shadowflame611:
Yeah, I'm sorry I said it sucked, I feel bad for saying that now! hehe.
Next time, if anything ever sucks, I'll rely on you good people to tell
me. Hopefully, that will never be the case. Thanks so much for you
thoughtful reviews!
Yeah, Leo and Raph would have totally been goners if their bros hadn't
made it! that was part of the evil suspense of the story (and also
why I didn't let Leo call for help, mua ha ha!)
Uhh, wait a second... did you just say "hiz-ouse"? ...now I'm frightened. -(backs away slowly)-
BlueRaven:
Hi,
welcome back to the world of reviewing! hehe, just joking, I forget to
review all the time! Especially when there are many exciting stories to
catch up on! It's all good, I'm happy to know you've been following the
story, that's the important part. thanks!
Sassyblondexoxo:
Sassy! Hi! Thanks for your email, and thanks for telling Mickis to
check out my story! I'm so touched! You are such a cool person, thanks
so much! Now that I finally updated my story, I'm gonna finally do what
I've been meaning to do, and review your older work (that aren't as old
to me, being relatively new here!) So, keep your eyes open for that!
Remember, you are so talented, you don't need to doubt yourself -ever-.
I'm glad you think I'm a great battle scene writer, but you are as
well, don't let other works intimidate you. If we all did that, no one
would -ever- write -anything-, hehe. Also, I'd love you even more if
you updated Heat... Hehe, I have you hooked for life with my writing?
hehe, you have me hooked too! Well, sorry it took so long to update,
that's the summer season for ya! Just wait till it gets colder out, and
when people stop visiting my house EVERY FREAKIN' DAY! There will be so many
more stories for all of us to write and love! It's very reassuring to
know everyone likes the way I depicted Mikey, not to mention that I've
managed tokeep everyone in-character... which is getting harder, now that the
seriousness is starting to dawn more and more on the turtles (in the
story). I'll just keep doing my best! Thanks for your reviews!
EagleFox:
Hi, EagleFox, nice to meet you, and even better to see new names on my
review list. It means a lot when ppl let me know they've dropped by and
read my story! It makes me very happy indeed to hear that you enjoy my
fight scenes! Maybe I'll see you drop by again and leave another review
sometime, that would make my day!
eldarsevenstar:
hehe, I love your reviews, they are greatly entertaining! Haha, so did
you get some time off from your place of work? You're my kind of
person, reading fanfiction at work... very nice! Yeah, Leo is one
butt-kicking super ninja! He's great, and my favourite stories are fics
that involve both him and Raph. Thanks for another awesome review that
makes me laugh whenever I read it! See you soon, I hope!
Pi90katana:
Ahh, you love my blue flame? that's great, I always feel obliged to
come up with special ways of describing Leo's fighting and mental
discipline, cuz he's so talented... he's a natural, a really gifted
ninja, far beyond his years. ...me? a mentor? I'm so touched! thank you for
your beautiful sentiments! It's very true, so many of you are
inspirations! You are too, with the way you captivated mental
instability in your story "suicide"! We all become mentors to each other, and it's amazing how fan fiction improves our writing
tremendously. It's simply amazing, and powerful! Alright, you wanna
know how many wounds Leo has suffered? Alrighty, here's Leo's wound
count:
1 - cut on his left arm (a "graze")
2 - his left side was clubbed, no life-threatening injuries, but we'll see how wounded his innards are in the following chapters
3 - his right thigh was cut by a katana
That's all I have in my notations... hmm, -only- three injuries? did I
miss something myself? I'm going to have to invent a couple more
wounds...
Hehe, I have a small obsession with wounded protagonists... I,
myself, thoroughly enjoy seeing my beloved heroes struggle with their
mortality. Are you the same way?
Wow, I'm a whole seven years older than you? Gawd, I feel so OLD! also,
my birthday is coming up, I'll be 23 within a month! 23! AHHHH!
pacphys:
pacphys!
you returned! yay! hehe, I lose track of fics -all the time-.
It feels like I'm apologising in half the reviews I leave... No, of
course I won't kick you, it's all good. I'm glad you eventually found
your way here, though. Thanks for leaving a review for all the
chapters, that's so generous and thoughtful! Besides, there is an
advantage in coming in late... you missed a lot of cliffhangers!
That's always nice, you got to read a bunch of chapters one after the
other.
Hehe, you knew that "silent mode" comment was coming! Hey, that's
something that always bothered me... well, everything
technology-related in cartoons bothers me, as if I expect cartoon
physics and science to be realistic... you'd think the turtles would
have figured out a way to properly deal with communicators, they -are-
ninjas, they -do- need to practice the art of invisibility, geeze! Hmm,
you know what? I don't think Raph would like the vibrator mode very
much, haha! Let's face it, no matter how hard Donnie tries, he'll never
be able to build a Raph-friendly communicator... or a Raph-proof
ANYTHING. Haha, Double As and fuses... by any chance, are you like me,
dissecting technology in cartoons? (or at least in fan fics?) hehe!
You've got a good point, though. I feel sorry for Donnie, considering
how rough his brothers are with his carefully-crafted electronics.
Those aren't toys, you know, Raph!
OMG you added me to your C2! thankyouthankyou! -(gasps)- my story is now "valued as a gem", that's beautiful! THANK YOU!
oh right, one more thing: Lunar-ninja informs me (actually, it was
more of a threat...) that you have a rule that clearly states "no
killing good guys"...? How does this rule work, again? mua ha ha ha!
jigsaws231:
Hi again, glad to know you liked the chapter, and that you are keeping
up with the story! I'm trying to keep up the details, thanks!
Mickis:
Hi! nice to see another reviewer! I've read your stuff, and I'm
impressed! Aww, Sassy told you about me? What a sweetheart! So, to
answer your first question, Leo is one of my favourites, him and Raphael. I
tried really hard to get into his head... The turtles are so real for
me, in my mind. I actually
don't related as much with Leo as I do with Raph and Donnie... but that
doesn't help me write Donnie at all, oh well. I think I revere Leo... I
am in awe of him. Okay, to answer your next question: yes, all of them
will be reflecting upon Splinter's words. It helps me to get inside all
their heads, so that I may be able to write more TMNT fan fics. You
also might notice, by now, that Raph hasn't yet done adequate
reflection upon how he is a gift... "not dying" is hardly the point
Splinter was trying to make! hehe.
Thanks for coming back and leaving more reviews, btw! I think
it's awesome that you are in Sweden, I've been meaning to visit there
for a long time, and I've heard great things about it! great things!
Hehe, I'm sorry my cliffhangers forced you to read instead of sleep...
I guess that's what I do best. Yeah, those lines were supposed to be
funny, well, as funny as a person like me can make scenes. I was
-hoping- for a little moment of relief in between all the stressful
scenes... that break didn't last long, though. I feel bad for
Donnie too, after that phone call. I know from experience, that's very
UNCOOL! In fact, Donnie gave him a tiny lecture when he finally met up
with Raph... you go, Donnie! Hah, yeah, you have it right, I -love-
action! And suspense, and excitement, and all that jazz. You're lucky
you came when you did, with chapter 5 already released, that way you
didn't have to suffer from all those bad cliffhangers, and you didn't
get any cliffhanger nightmares, hehe. There may be one more really bad
cliffhanger before this story ends... but the worst ones are done with!
I promise, this story will be complete soon, and I could never drop a
story, so rest assured that there will -always- be an update!
Ugh, that was a LOT of reviews, wow! thanks everyone! take care, see ya soon!