If you recognize it, it ain't mine.

Chapter 5

Dons POV

I was shaking that next morning, having had nightmares all night about that hold she used. I had spent hours researching it the night before. It's a Marine hold that if she had slid one hand one way, she could have broken my neck.

I lost Rock, Paper, Scissors to go wake her up that morning after breakfast. I was standing at her door and couldn't bring myself to open it. After a few moments of just staring at her door, I finally found the courage to open it. What I saw made me wish I hadn't. Sitting in her easy chair was my big sister, her black eyes glazed over. She sat as still as death and she was staring at a spot on the wall. I reached forward and placed a fingertip on her neck. Her heart was still beating and I could hear her silently breathing, but she never responded.

"Marlowe," I whispered. When she didn't answer me, I screamed, "Marlowe Jean!"

Nothing.

My heart shattered into a million tiny pieces. I did the only thing I could think to do; I carried her to the lab.

When we got there, I laid her on the long term gurney and got her a GI tube and a catheter. She never even flinched; just laid there. After that, I sat next to her bed and cried.

I prayed she wouldn't be like this for long, but days grew into a week, then two, and before I knew it, a month had gone by, just waiting for Lowe to wake up.

Dad and Raph were the worst of us. Dad barely slept and Raph slept even less. They both got cranky and irritable; with tempers flaring out of nowhere. Then one day, maybe a week after Lowe had gone catatonic, Mikey ran in and said that Raph was throwing up blood.

I finally got the story out of him. Turns out my older brother gave himself an ulcer from worrying about Marlowe the whole time she was a deployed Marine but had been treating it himself. He'd been doing pretty well, too. He said he hadn't had a flare up for a long time.

"My trigger is not when or what I am eating; it's when I get so stressed out that I don't eat. It's my own fool fault. I was so worried when she went to Iraq the first time, I could barely hold anything down. Then, when she got sent back to Iraq, the burning started. I always had some antacids for that. When she went to Afghanistan, though, is when I came to terms with it. I asked Casey to get me some Pepcid. It worked as long as I took it when it first flared up. But, this time it just makes me throw up," He said as he held the spot where it hurt.

I got out the scope and sedated him. He was right. Although, it's a bleeding ulcer, now. I hacked the local drug store and left a script for some Esomeprazole (Nexium) for Casey to pick up from a Dr. Donald E. Tello. We started him on a light but nourishing diet and got him back to eating solids before Marlowe woke up. Part of me was angry at him for hiding it, but another part of me was surprised he had known how to treat it himself.

Casey brought Raph's script down the next day. We all laughed about the name. Thankfully, it worked, though.

A little over a month after she went catatonic, Marlowe woke up. Her eyes, however, had stayed a dead black. She looked at Leo and started cussing him in a language Mike, Leo, and I didn't recognize. From the looks on Dad and Raph's faces though, they knew it well.

The haze cleared from her eyes quickly. Then, she rolled to face the wall and cried.

Mikey POV

A few days later, Lowe fell asleep on the couch. When Leo came back from his run, no one noticed him acting any differently. We all were supposed to be in training, but Papa said to let Sissy sleep; that she needed it.

After training, Leo went in and woke her up in possibly the worst way. He threw her off of the couch and started screaming at her. I stayed to the shadows and watched, just in case.

"What is so special about you? Why are you even here? Trying to take over my position as leader? Well it won't happen. You are a fucking liability and I want you gone. Now. You will either get one of us killed or kill one of us. I can't let you injure my family."

"Leo, quit," she ground out, while she was shaking, trying to control herself. From where I was standing I could see her struggling to control it. I texted Raph. As much as Leo hates to see it, he's just as hot headed as Raph.

But in true Leo fashion, he kept right on screaming at her. "Don't you tell me what to do! Why did you come back! You should have just stayed gone. Why couldn't ya just die! We were fine without you!"

Marlowe growled, "Leo," as she tried to walk away.

I heard Raph's phone go off.

Leo did the worst thing he could have done. He grabbed her wrist. His hand closed over her wrist in a grip I had only ever seen him use on the foot and yelled, "Don't you walk away from me, you fucking stupid, jar-headed, 'prairie squaw'."

In the space between heartbeats, I watched my sister snap. She moved slightly and grasped his wrist. Using every bit of what had been forward momentum, she pulled them together and slammed her forearm into his beak. I heard the crunch from across the room.

She moved so fast. Leo stumbled back, clutching his beak as she surged forward and kicked him in the junk, hard. He went to his knees and then fell to his side; clutching his jewels. She kicked him in the ribs a few times. Then, as he started to try to crawl away, she sat on his chest and started punching him in the face. I could see the beginnings of the bruises from here.

She started snarling out, every word punctuated with her fist slamming into his face, "Arrogant! Little! Fuck!" She was pulling back farther as her punches grew stronger and harder, as the darkness around her grew stronger. I watched her pull back way far and pause.

About that time, our other two brothers dumped a tub full of cold water on her. She fell over on the floor sputtering and coughing.

When she caught sight of Leo, she started rambling, "Oh, God. Oh, dear God." She scrambled to her feet and ran out the door. The slamming of the door brought the three of us out of our stupor.

I turned to our brothers, "You guys take care of him. I'm going after her." With that, I ran out of the door into the sewers and found her hunched over roughly 10 feet from the door and vomiting everything she had eaten in a week. All I could do was gently rub her back until she slumped against me.

I wrapped my arms around her, noticing she was shaking. I rubbed her arms to try and warm her up a little and whispered, "I got ya, Sissy. I got ya."

"Oh, god, Angel, what have I done," she sobbed as she curled into my chest. "What have I done."

About that time, Raph and Don came around the corner.

Raph put his hand on Marlowe's back and said, "I got her, Mike. Give her here."

Don said gently then, "Dad's pissed. If we used any of that language it would have gotten our mouths washed out."

Raph looked up, "I got my mouth washed out and a day in the Hashii."

About that time we heard something we have never heard. Our father was screaming at Leo and using the same bad language we would have gotten in trouble for.

I heard Marlowe start sobbing again.

Raph held on and drew her in further, with one arm wrapped around her head and the other around her shoulders, his face resting less than an inch from the top of her head. " He's not mad at you, Sis. Not at you," he whispered to her, "Leo knew betta. Dad ain't mad at you."

A/N-This one was hard to write.