Hey everyone! Here's chapter 3! Enioy! ;)

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Leonardo was right…sort of.

Around 3am that night, Donatello suddenly groaned, and the unexpected sound made the dozing Michelangelo fall off his chair.

Leonardo and Raphael jumped out of their own chairs and stood over the bed.

"Donny!" Raphael exclaimed. "Open your eyes!"

But the injured turtle only groaned again, moving his head slightly. His breathing was fast and raspy.

Leonardo grabbed his brother's wrist, feeling the pulse. It was too fast, and still weak. "Donny?"

They got no answer.

"You think he's having a bad dream?" Michelangelo asked, standing next to him.

Leonardo shook his head. "I don't know."

Donatello winced with a whimper, eyes squeezed shut. Just as suddenly as the odd behavior began, it stopped, as he seemed to go limp and unmoving again.

"I think he was half-awake, but couldn't stay that way," Leonardo said, his voice sounding sad.

"Why not?" Michelangelo asked, before thinking.

"Why else?" Raphael said. "The pain."

With that, the red-masked turtle stalked out.

Michelangelo took a step, to follow, but Leo grabbed his arm. "He needs some time alone."

Mikey sighed. "I wish Splinter was here."

Leonardo sighed. Splinter had gone on yet another journey with the 'Ancient One'. Bad timing. "Me too. Sit here, Mikey," said Leo, pulling the youngest turtle's chair closer to his own. "We'll keep Donny company."

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Raphael found himself standing outside the lair, with no memory of having reached the door. I can't believe this, he thought. They're right…everyone's right. My recklessness finally got someone hurt…bad.

The irony being, of course, that Donatello seemed the least deserving of such suffering. The second-youngest turtle was a peacemaker, not enjoying fighting in the least. Unlike me, Raphael thought. Donatello hardly even argued with any of them. In fact, he'd chosen the bo as his weapon because it was one of the least deadly!

He shouldn't be the one lyin' there, in so much pain.

Raphael leaned against the wall of the sewer, sighing heavily. How badly he wanted to go for a run right now…but he couldn't, not with Donatello's life possibly hanging in the balance.

Rubbing his eyes, he walked back in, heading for the couch and dropping onto it. He couldn't go back into that room; not yet…not yet…

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The smell of coffee wafted through the lair, and Raphael found himself slouched on the couch, staring at the far wall. Confused, it took a few seconds for his mind to catch up with his brain, and he remembered what had happened.

"Donny!" he shouted, jumping off the couch. He dashed into their infirmary, afraid of what he might find. "Is he okay?"

Leonardo stood from his chair, stretching. "Yeah, Raph. Hasn't woken up yet."

Raphael rubbed his head, feeling groggy. "What time is it?"

Leonardo looked at the clock. "Almost 8. You slept for four hours."

Raphael walked over to the bed, and sat on the side, facing Donatello. "Sorry," he said to Leo.

Leonardo shrugged. "Nothing happened. If we needed you, we would've woken you."

Raphael nodded, studying their injured brother's face. "8am. So he's been out for like fifteen hours. Do you think that's normal?"

Leonardo shrugged again, retrieving new supplies. "Wish I knew."

Raphael stood and let his brother take his place, watching as he changed Donatello's bandage. The stitched wound on his plastron looked nasty; Raphael knew that the stitches had been extremely difficult for Leonardo to do, with a plastron being so thick and rigid, unlike skin. Donatello would have to be very restricted in his movements, or the stitches could break and reopen the wound.

Leonardo was silent in his task, taping the bandage over the wound, since there was no easy method of wrapping it with a shell in the way. A sling held Donatello's left arm immobile.

Raphael reached out to feel his brother's pulse, frowning when he encountered too-warm skin. "Does he have a fever?" he asked, feeling Donatello's forehead.

Leonardo nodded, worriedly. "Yeah, but it's low. Donatello tried to teach me some stuff, you know, in case something like this ever happened. I remember him saying that when an injury is really serious, the body can develop a fever as a reaction to the trauma."

Raphael nodded. "I hope it doesn't go any higher."

"Me too," Leonardo sighed.

The smell of coffee got stronger, and Michelangelo entered carrying a tray. "Figured this would help us stay awake, dudes," he said.

Raphael reached for a mug, nearly spilling it when he found his hands shaking. He quickly downed half of it and placed it on the nightstand beside the bed, before his brothers saw.

The next few hours passed in the same way. Donatello's brothers continued to sit by his bed quietly. Staring, watching for any sign that he would wake again.

Michelangelo kept filling his brothers with coffee. Everyone was exhausted, but too nervous to nap.

"Why don't you go to sleep, Mikey," Raphael said for the twelfth time.

"Nah," Mikey said, eyes drooping and opening again.

"If something happens, we'll wake you," said Leonardo.

Mikey didn't answer, his head drooping towards his chest. A second later, he jerked upright again. "Need more coffee," he mumbled, standing and stumbling his way towards the door.

Raphael sighed.

Yawning, the youngest turtle went into the kitchen and grabbed the coffeepot, pouring it into a cup and adding sugar before opening the fridge. He was confused to see no milk carton in it. Frowning, he looked around the kitchen to see the empty gallon on the counter. Apparently, when he'd gotten his last cup, he'd used it all and been too tired to realize that they needed more. "Oh, man," he muttered.

Picking up the mug, he looked inside it for a second, before taking a cautious sip. "Gah!" he exclaimed, making a face. He plopped the mug down again before sighing and making his way back to Donatello's room.

"Dudes," he said, leaning against the doorframe. "Got milk?"

Raphael and Leonardo looked at him, confused. "What?"

Michelangelo normally would've laughed at his joke, but today he couldn't. "We ran out of milk."

Raphael instantly stood. "I'll go get some."

Leonardo frowned. "Raph…" he said, suspicious.

"I won't be gone long," said the red-banded turtle, heading for the door.

"Raph!" Leo repeated.

With a sigh, Raphael stopped and looked at him.

Leo hesitated for a second. "I know you're angry. We all are. Just remember that Donatello needs us…we can't afford to have someone else injured too."

Raphael crossed his arms, but there was no defiance in his expression.

"Just be careful?" Leonardo said. "Don't make Mikey wait too long for his milk?"

Raphael lifted one corner of his mouth in a slight smile. "Yeah." With that, he turned and left.

Michelangelo watched him go, regretting mentioning the milk at all.

"He'll be fine, Mikey," Leonardo told him. "Don't worry."

With a sigh, Mikey sat down again, and the two turtles continued to watch their unconscious brother.

TBC