A/N: Another short update, but I figured I should get something up here before I get bogged down with my next paper. It's on Nietzsche's On The Genealogy of Morality so ... yeah.
My brain may explode. Have fun! Reviews are greatly appreciated :)
3.
Mikey's stomach twisted into a knot of guilt and worry as he wondered, once again, if that really was the best place to stash his unconscious brother. It wasn't like he really had the time to find a better hiding place, or drag Don back to the lair. So the shadows of the rooftop would have to do for the time being. He'd get back there after this crazy night was over, apologize, and then bug his brother to watch some silly anime with him.
Not like he could really double back and find a better place. He was halfway to Raph now, and moving painfully slow. Sure, he was still making decent time—for a normal person. For a trained ninja, in top physical health, he was barely jogging. But his body just wouldn't go any faster.
His heart rate was abnormally relaxed, too. Sure, he could still hear it pounding in his ears as he sped—as best he could—across the rooftops, but it was still slower than it should be. His breathing was slowing down too.
Not good. So not good.
He'd actually managed to glean something from Don's rant about the circulatory system. If his heart was slow, it meant blood wasn't getting where it was supposed to fast enough. Which meant that his cells couldn't get enough oxygen to do their cell thing. Which meant that his body was essentially running out of fuel. That he was more or less starving his muscles and brain and heart. Once he really started running on empty, his body would just shut down.
Nope. Gotta get to Raph and Leo before that.
He sucked in a deep breath as he made a leap from one building to another. His breathing rate was slowing down too, which only added to his oxygen problem. He should be taking rapid breaths, taking in as much air as possible. But somehow he just couldn't. Like his body was rallying against him, trying to make him fail. Hell if he was going to be beaten by some idiot mobster and some stupid poison. Leo had been poisoned before, and he pulled through okay.
But Leo had Usagi and his weird, mystical rabbit-samurai thing to help him out. What have I got? Me. Great, I'm doomed.
No time to think like that. He zipped down a fire escape, and headed off towards a construction area. Raph was a few short minutes away from being rescued, and then it would be Leo's turn. And then Mikey could try and save his own butt. The casualness with which he thought that statement surprised him. And as he really thought about it, he realized that he wasn't all that worried about his own life.
If he saved all his brothers, but couldn't save himself, it was still mission accomplished. He'd rather end on a high note, as a tragic hero, than abandon his brothers and get the antidote for himself. Was it really that easy a choice? Yes, it was. Which meant that the mob boss' hope for theatrics and mental anguish was all in vain. No choice indeed.
He rounded the corner, and nearly toppled into the enormous pit that he was looking for. Thankfully, he managed to fall backwards just in time, before his feet skidded over the edge. Broken legs would make it slightly challenging to get out of that hole. He pushed himself upright—and grimaced at the amount of effort it took. Glancing down into the hollow, he saw Raph. His stomach did flips as he noticed the concrete had already started to fill the hole.
Damn. Too slow, Mikey. It's only up to his knees; I should still be able to pull him out.
He hurried over to the edge that Raph was nearest, and examined the device suspending him. It was another crude crane, quickly throne together, and easy enough to figure out. Get the rope loose, and haul his brother out of his would-be grave. Mikey did just that, loosing the rope from the rickety wooden structure, and then began to pull on it. Instead of dislodging Raph from the cement, however, Mikey's feet slipped forward.
What?
He pulled again, only to encounter the same result. He slid forward, towards the hole, instead of pulling his brother out of it. His muscles couldn't be that weak already, could they? As he tried for a third time, he realized that they were. He had less time than he thought.
Okay, so my arms aren't strong enough to get him out. Maybe my whole body will be enough.
As quickly as he could, Mikey wrapped the end of the rope around his torso, and tied it tightly. He yanked the rope a few times, making sure his knot was snug enough, and then charged forward. He made a couple feet of progress before Raph's weight started to drag him backwards.
"Oh, come on!" he yelled aloud in frustration. "Bro, you gotta lay off the beer. Too many calories!"
He dropped to his knees, panting. This shouldn't be taking this much of a toll on him. By all rights, he should all ready be on his way to Leo. He'd be damned if he was going to give in this easily.
Come on, you lazy ass. Move it!
Mikey forced his body forward, sucking in painfully slow breaths as the light activity seemed to completely strip him. He made progress—slow, but sure progress, until he finally felt the line go slack as Raph's comatose form was dragged fully out of the pit. Mikey wanted to collapse, give his body time to rest and do what little recuperating it could, but he knew that right now, every second counted. He had to get to Leo. Even if he couldn't get to the antidote, he had to get to Leo.
He hauled his weakening body over to Raph, and brushed off the wet cement that stuck to his legs. The last thing he needed was for it to dry to his brother's skin. He couldn't even begin to think how Don would get it off.
Wasted too much time, dude. Time to go.
As he took off running—more like jogging—he noticed that his mouth had gone dry.