Lying in my bed I hear the clock tick,
And think of you
Caught up in circles confusion
Is nothing new
Flashback warm nights
Almost left behind
Suitcases of memories,
Time after
Sometimes you picture me
I'm walking too far ahead
You're calling to me, I can't hear
What you've said
You say go slow
I fall behind
The second hand unwinds
If you're lost you can look and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting
Time after time
If you're lost you can look and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting
Time after time
After my picture fades and darkness has
Turned to gray
Watching through windows you're wondering
If I'm ok
Secrets stolen from deep inside
The drum beats out of time
If you're lost you can look and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting
Time after time
You said go slow
I fall behind
The second hand unwinds
If you're lost you can look and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting
Time after time
-Cyndi Lauper, "Time After Time"
Earth and Oxygen: Time After Time
"No, you're not listening to me." Don cradles his head in his hands and huffs, second cup of coffee halfway consumed. He tries to kick under the table for emphasis, but there's no Mikey to kick him back.
"At least finish your bacon and then talk," Leo pleads, "and then you can go back to his room and sit morosely on his bed."
Sighing, Donnie throws his head back, wishing to science that he could just make it translatable. "Okay. Okay, I'll start again. See…I created this holographic program. In which you and the holographic images can interact. You punch them, they punch you. Got that?"
"Sort of," Raph says.
"Close enough. All right. So, you know that huge, gigantic tunnel that Mikey and Raph have been painting murals all over? The one Mikey's been secretly using to train his skills outside the lair without you knowing?"
Leo sucks in a breath. "Wait, what?"
"…oops. Well, it doesn't matter now, does it." Donnie is feeling more and more snarky. "It's just…you know the place, yes? That's all you need to know."
"We know the place."
"Well, that is where the holographic projectors have been, and for the last two weeks, Mikey has been using it to improve that raw potential we've all been insulting him about. He keeps begging me to invent stronger opponents to test him. It's been quite fun."
"Yes, and what does that have to do with the gang war we waded into that resulted in Mikey lying in bed unconscious since yesterday?" Raphael snarls.
"Nothing…maybe a little." Donatello sighs again. "Remember those moments when the three of us were down, and Mikey was still standing, and he went into literal full ninja warrior mode, silent and stealthy and faster than we've ever seen him? And the only reason he fell was because one giant bulky asshole slammed his head into an air conditioner corner, sliced open his thigh with a sword, and broke bones around his knee."
His brothers nod, grimacing.
"The reason he was able to fight like a demon three times his skill was because he's been feeding his potential. With me. Using holograms. Guys, he's…growing up. Okay? He really is better than all of us combined. He just never got the chance to let it out. But with our…current circumstances…he forced himself to."
Leo and Raph are staring at the kitchen table, pushing around their eggs and hashbrowns.
"We were really harsh with him before the battle." Leo sounds petulant.
"Now, now," a voice says, "Don't with the guilt again." And Karai folds her arms, leaning against the cabinet closest to the doorway. "I cooked that with love, boys, eat up."
Raphael cannot stop a vicious glare at his scientist brother. "Why you, though? Why'd he confide in you only?"
Donatello shuffles. "Mmmaybe it's because I don't hit him over the head as much? It's because when he messes around in my lab it's because he really is interested in what I'm working on…" As he trails off, Raph begins to breathe heavily. As he does so, Shinigami comes up next to him and begins to massage his shoulders.
"I had him in my arms," Raph whispers. "He was babbling nonsense. His head was bleeding and his leg was bleeding and his knee was broken and he was panicking. He kept saying my name and he kept saying 'bonfire water balloon skies' and I didn't-"
"Seizure, remember? He had a severe concussion," Shinigami murmurs. "His brain took a heavy injury and caused severe aphasia before he fell unconscious. Not to mention blood loss. None of it was anyone's fault."
"I was hurt and I couldn't get to him. I could've…I would've…"
He is cut off by Shini's long fingernails digging into the base of his skull, pushing his head forward as she continues the massage. "Shut up, O Great Protector. He was holding his own, so was Karai, so was I. We all made the mistake of being distracted. Mikey got hurt. If any of you continue to blame yourselves, I'll show you what my namesake really means."
Shuddering, the three turtles scrape their plates clean.
Donatello is back in the lab, mixing more nutrient electrolyte solutions into IV bags, preparing a large bowl of cool water. He walks slowly across the lair, nudging Mikey's door open with his shoulder.
April is sitting on the edge of the bed, wiping a wet cloth down the pale, motionless figure lying there, while Ice Cream Kitty leans forward in her bowl, doing the same with her tongue and paws. Mikey's pallor is still awful. Leo and Raph donated all the blood Don would allow without them going into shock, but it had been just enough. He slides carefully to the table set up at the bedside, deposits the bowl and bags, and begins changing the IV bag before April even notices him.
"How long did you sleep last night?" she asks casually, wringing out her cloth and plopping it on the table next to the old bowl.
"Enough." He adds a dose of Ativan to keep seizures at bay and to keep Mikey relaxed, then begins to palpate his bandaged head, trying to feel for the depression and skull fracture at the right temple.
"Tell me it was more than four hours."
"Yes, April, it was more than four hours."
She relaxes after an awkward pause, and goes back to massaging Mikey's right hand. "Casey is on his way with more supplies from the school infirmary. Should we still worry about getting antibiotics?"
"Hopefully not. Has he moved at all? Anything? Anything at all?" Donnie tries to not sound desperate, but he catches the sad look April gives him.
I don't want pity, I want my brother to be okay.
"No response to anything," she says softly. "He's pretty much shut down for the duration."
Donnie's gut drops and freezes a little. Okay. Okay. But he really really needs to look at brain activity. They don't have the equipment but he can probably build something. He can't ask their human friends to steal anything like a pricey EEG headband, but an EEG is the only thing he can think of. Perhaps he can build one, or even modify the machine he had used on April. As he dribbles and sponges cool water over his little brother's plastron, he keeps thinking. He keeps thinking.
"Donnie?" April seems very close now, right next to his face, and he jumps when he realizes she is. "You're thinking very hard about something. Can I help?"
Donatello glances at her, then at Mikey's head, then back at her. "Oh. Ohhh. April! Yes! Yes you can! Um. Can you...can you look into his mind? You know, his brainwaves?"
She blinks. "I think so. Probably. Yeah. What am I supposed to look for?"
"Responses," he says eagerly. Lights. Anything, anything that would indicate he's able to react to stimuli, external or internal."
"You mean...to make sure he's still...still there."
Don's head bobbles. "Exactly."
She takes a deep breath. "I think I can handle that. Anything for Mikey."
Donnie bites his lip. It feels like one of his mantras lately. Anything for Mikey.
Anything, Mikey.
Days pass. On the fourth day, Donatello paces his lab, and remembers.
He looks around at the bareness of his space, but he sees how it is beginning to crowd, gratefully. Courtesy of break-ins at clinics, he now has a small clinic himself. There are two medical beds over there in that corner. There are oxygen tanks and cabinets filled with IV components. A computer to monitor vitals. A small, portable defibrillator. Cupboards containing medicines and treatments that can be used on them and their mutated bodies without rejection. And the one thing they don't have, an EEG, but for now he'll need to make do with the device made for April and Mikey and Rockwell…and the brand new invention that he and Rockwell and Karai painstakingly created out of love for a brother.
Leatherhead and Slash volunteered to find and steal one of those small EEG machines, but when Leo stiffened and Donnie let out a strangled whine, Raph gently convinced them not to.
Rockwell finally explained how some hospitals were using Japanese-made mobile app based portable ultrasound devices, and that there were ways he could procure one. At the time, the turtles had decided they had already gone too far.
And then, Karai suggested using bits of the Dimension X technology scattered in the lab to create the proper silicone chips and build a device from the ground up.
Hours later, Donnie found himself holding a rudimentary portable terahertz scanner able to act as an ultrasound and CT scanner. It was flat like his tablet, as big as his laptop, and needed to be held over the subject, and very much reminded Leo of some of the scanner devices used in "Space Heroes". So Donnie decided that Leo would be the test subject. Leo was rather excited.
The screen lit up and flashed as Donnie held his new baby up and moved it from Leo's head to his toes, making him turn around. The three-dimensional images were perfect, and for the first time he could see his brother's insides all the way down. Leo seemed the picture of health. His subject preened a bit. Raphael just rolled his eyes and muttered "Wonder Boy."
But it's now, day four, at night, and Donnie chews his lower lip, and paces the lab, picking up the tablet, rubbing his fingers along its screen. It's his last hope. April did her best to scan Mikey's mind, but she encountered only whiteness, and fog, and then a blue darkness too deep and too intense, suffocating, and Mikey's slow soft pulse was a pressurized physical presence; the only thing she was certain of was the powerful flare of a miniature sun in the vast distance, and Donnie had to take her word for it that their baby brother was, in fact, still there.
Donnie thinks about the times Mikey would smile at him. The cheerful smiles, the cheeky smiles, the adorable smiles, the prankster smiles, the naïve smiles, the confident smiles, the scary smiles. In battle, Mikey never gives up, and the way his teeth will bare makes Donnie think of a wounded apex predator in a corner, turning into a hurricane full of force and fury and lightning and silence and feared awe. Mikey has always used his role of the cute baby brother to his advantage. Not even Master Splinter really understood; Mikey usually flew under the radar. Donnie kept missing that unless Mikey was directly underfoot.
There are no smiles right now. Donnie knows it's no one's fault but he really wants to blame himself. He and Mikey had made a promise to stick with each other, all those months ago, because of their neurodivergent brains.
He should have figured out the gang members' motives. He should have calculated. He should have kept an eye on the largest man, the one with the huge knife and the huge crushing hands, the one who seemed to stalk Mikey's acrobatics until finding a chance to grab his ankle and and swing him, and strike him, and stab him, and crack him…
"I don't need to hurt you all. Just the little one."
Shut up, he tells his memory. He hugs the scanner tablet to his chest and runs from the lab as though the memory of that giant man could find him.
In Mikey's room, Raph is in a chair someone had brought, his arms folded over his plastron. He's staring at Mikey's face as though glaring could force consciousness to happen.
Donnie clears his throat.
Raph moves just his eyes. "Oh, is that the scanner thing?" When Don just stands there, Raph grunts and moves the chair back so Donnie has room.
He sits on the bed and checks the IV lines, checks his brother's steady vitals. Carefully positioning the tablet directly over Mikey's head, Don turns on the proper application, and with his other hand he cradles the back of Mikey's head to turn it this way and that. He watches the screen.
It's there, he sees it, and his heart plummets and his gut turns cold, and his hands begin to tremble just a little. Raph notices before he gets them under control and shoots forward. "What is it? What's the matter? What's wrong with him?"
Donnie remains silent. With a finger he traces the section of the right temporal lobe housing the injury he hoped would not be there; the closed head injury and the bleeding head wound had frightened him enough.
Between blood gushing from the baby brother's left leg and a head gash that looked worse than it was, the family was panicking so hard most of the human gang had been taken down with far more brutal force than necessary. Donnie was the first to noticed the breaks and fractures in the left knee, stained by blood, and wound up setting the bone himself before the others could notice, scooping Mikey into his own arms and rushing home before the others could really see. All the sutures, all the bandages, and the brace were applied under swift, barking orders, because Donnie didn't want his family to realize.
His family is going to realize.
Fuck, he thinks. I can't do this. Just breathe. Breathe, Donnie. Breathe.
Mikey's smile during battle was powerful, edging toward something extreme and feral, and Donnie felt nervous around it. It was frightening because it showed how Mikey could run toward a precipice no one else could see, not even Raph. It would be too easy for Mikey to dance over an edge rimmed with fire and ice. If Mikey applied that behavior, that scary playfulness, to an enemy, no force in the universe could help them.
Damage to the temporal lobe could cause abrupt changes in behavior, and Mikey already had temporal lobe epilepsy.
Sudden aggression was common, and Mikey was cheery and playful, especially in battle.
Combine it all, and Mikey's smiles would transform.
Placing the device down, Don begins to unwrap the gauze on Mikey's head. The wound itself is healing, bruise colors staining the light green skin from the right temple to the cheekbone. Donnie grabs the tube of antibiotic ointment and carefully applies some before the fresh bandages. Checking Mikey's pupils, he notes they are still dilated. Fuck.
"Donnie," Raph says. "Donnie, what's the matter? You were shaking. You only shake when it's really bad. How bad is it?"
Donnie has almost forgotten he was there. He blinks at his older brother, eyes wide. Raph's sharp green eyes are also huge, pupils like pinpricks. They have that connection, Donnie remembers.
"It…" Don begins, and Raph grabs the tablet.
"W-" Raph frowns deeply. "Donnie, what…what's this mean? This…this little spot, right here?" and he is pointing at the spot Donnie had found. "That's, you know, the tempiral lobe, right?"
"Temporal," he corrects absently, securing the bandages and moving on to the leg.
"But, there's already damage there!" Raph's voice is rising, high and stressed, throat closing. Donnie unwraps and looks over the long, ugly gash, which is slowly showing signs of healing, the stitches holding firm. He doesn't bother checking the knee, but he does reach for the tablet so it can be scanned. Raph grips it tighter.
"Raph, I need my scanner, please, I need to scan his knee-"
And Raph is making a sound high in his throat, like a whine, his lower lip pushed out. Donnie stares at him.
Oh, he realizes.
"It's going to be all right, Raph." He switches to a soothing tone. "I swear. Mikey will be okay."
And Raph gasps, "I don't believe you."
Oh, ouch.
Donatello bites his lip and just holds out his hand.
"I'm sorry, Donnie," and Raph does sound so sorry, hanging his head and handing over the device.
"It's okay, Raph, it's fine," and Donnie smiles, but Raph looks afraid now.
The scan on Mikey's leg reveals a patella fracture directly across the left knee cap. The crack is wide, the entire knee area swollen and the joint unable to bend. Just as he figured. The good news is that it will heal with proper care; the bad news is that Mikey will be devastated that he can't do anything athletic for at least a couple of months.
Then again, it does also depend on what the knife damaged.
The scan there reveals less damage than Donnie thought. The knife went two inches in, piercing the quadriceps tendon. Blood loss was substantial, but no major arteries were hit, and Mikey will easily heal. Donnie exhales, and realizes he is sweating. He shuts his eyes tightly and with both hands he presses down on the leg like he did during the battle, knowing that this time there is no blood flow to staunch.
A hand on the back of his head. When he looks up, Raph is staring at him, and Leo and April and Karai are there, staring at him, staring at Mikey, staring at the tablet, their faces drained of color. Donnie suddenly realizes how this must appear. He leaps off the bed, hands up and out.
"It's okay, he's okay, he's just got temporal lobe damage again and a broken kneecap and he'll be okay in a couple of months, I'll take care of it."
"It's...not okay," Karai murmurs with a hint of shock.
Leo tilts his head. "Donnie…are you all right?"
"I'm fine, why does everyone keep asking me that? I just want to help Mikey be okay!"
And a hoarse, raspy whisper behind him croaks out, "Thanks, Donnie..."
And he whirls around. Mikey's eyes are open, clouded and dilated but seeing and focused only on him. He can't help the whoop of joy as he wraps his arms around his only little brother's shoulders, burying his face in Mikey's shoulder. "Hey, B-Team buddy."
"I th-thought…you…h-hated that…" And Mikey's voice sounds like tears as his arms weakly wrap around Don's carapace.
"Nope. Not anymore. Welcome back, Mikey. Missed you."
It isn't until Leonardo's arms wrap around him from behind that Donatello finally gives in to stress and exhaustion. He is carefully helped into the bed right next to Mikey, and he throws an arm across Mikey's plastron, nuzzling his cheek. "Wake me in like six hours."
Mikey gives a harsh, raw laugh. "Make it ten, dudes."
The others are lavishing kisses and hugs on Mikey, and it's April who turns bright, teary eyes on Donnie, with a relieved smile, and says, "If Mikey can't get out of bed for at least twelve hours, neither can you."
Donnie is just too tired at this point to argue. As his eyes begin to close, he sees April take the tablet as if it were a treasure, and then he hears Mikey give a soft churring coo, like the beginning of a lullaby. Mikey is almost purring, nuzzling him, and then Donatello is asleep
Donatello grunts and lifts his heavy, heavy eyelids. A pair of deep blue eyes fills his vision. "Let you sleep in," Mikey whispers. "We slept for, like fourteen hours, dude."
Donnie grimaces, tries to gather saliva in his mouth. "Mm...how do you feel, Mike?"
"I had a seizure, but it was fine. I gotta talk slow, though, or I'll start doing that...aphasia thing."
"Did you tell anyone?"
"Nah, I handled it. There's a million bottles of water and Gatorade here."
"Mikey..." Donnie pushes himself fully awake and lifts his head from the pillow, staring down into those crystal eyes. "You should have woken me."
"No way, you looked so peaceful!"
Don sighs. "Yes, but...okay. Okay. Just...stay in bed. I mean, you can go to the bathroom and stuff, but you must absolutely and totally remain bedridden for a while."
"Yes, doc. I get it." Mikey is just smiling at him.
"Do you? Your knee is broken, Mikey."
Mikey's eyes move away from his. "I know. I can feel it."
"We are gonna help you heal. Casey's brought down a wheelchair that I've modified. But you have to follow the rules, okay? Okay?"
Mikey merely nods, eyes wide.
"It's going to be at least a couple of months. Knee injuries are rough."
"I know, Donnie."
"Uh…I thought you would be more upset. You can't go on patrol, or skateboarding, or dancing, or-"
"I gotta heal," Mikey smiles again. "I'll heal. Then I'll make damn sure I can get back to being my awesome Mikester self."
Donnie blinks. Huh. Well, okay. He sits up, pulling his knees to his chest. "I can go find you breakfast and take you to the bathroom, help you shower…"
"I know, Dee." Mikey reaches out and puts a shaking hand on his forearm. "You'll be here for me."
Donnie frowns at the shaking, then smiles weakly at him. "Of course, we all will."
"That's all I want." Mikey's voice is softer, his eyes turning glassy. "I just need my bros."
Donnie turns fully and puts his arms around his only little brother, letting Mikey seize quietly against his plastron. He rocks and hums, nuzzling Mikey's head. Less than five minutes later, Mikey makes a low, scared moaning sound, and jerks in Donnie's arms. Donnie kisses his head and murmurs, "Hey, Mikey, hey. It's all right. I've got you. Come on back, come home."
Mikey slowly pulls back a little and looks up at him, still trembling. "I love you, Dee. I swear, I'll be fine. I promise, I'm gonna be fine, okay, I'm gonna be fine…" And he bursts into tears, signaling the start of the emotional effects post-seizure.
And Don holds Mike, and soothes him, and tells him how he is going to help him, and through his tears Mikey says he will agree to even the most grueling physical therapy, and Donnie chuckles.
"Life will never be boring with you, Mikey. We love you for it."
And Donnie is already looking at the months ahead, already scheduling therapy sessions, late night talks when Mikey feels upset, preparing for pain and bad dreams, and how to incorporate Mikey's budding psychic skills. He never thought Michelangelo would enjoy meditating, but that was before they let him do it his way. Donnie holds his only little brother and begins to hum a song. After a few seconds, Mikey joins in with the words, and Donnie clings to his melodious voice and senses the extraordinary determination in that voice.
"If you're lost you can look and you will find me. Time after time. If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting. Time after time."
Mikey stops singing; Donnie almost whines and asks for more singing. But Mikey is breathing hard, and so Donnie tilts his chin up and wipes the tears away.
Mikey stares at him closely. "I'm not going anywhere, Donnie. I'll never leave you. I'll always find you. I'll always catch you."
Donnie's breath hitches. "Right back at you, Mikey."
That is good enough.
Like an unsung melody
The truth is waiting there for you to find it
It's not a blight, but a remedy
A clear reminder of how it began
Deep inside your memory
Turned away as you struggled to find it
You heard the call as you walked away
A voice of calm from within the silence
And for what seemed an eternity
You're waiting, hoping it would call out again
You heard the shadow reckoning
Then your fears seemed to keep you blinded
You held your guard as you walked away
When you think all is forsaken
Listen to me now (all is not forsaken)
You need never feel broken again
Sometimes darkness can show you the light
An unforgivable tragedy
The answer isn't' where you think you'd find it
Prepare yourself for the reckoning
For when your world seems to crumble again
Don't be afraid, don't turn away
You're the one who can redefine it
Don't let hope become a memory
Let the shadow permeate your mind and
Reveal the thoughts that were tucked away
So that the door can be opened again
Within your darkest memories
Lies the answer if you dare to find it
Don't let hope become a memory
When you think all is forsaken
Listen to me now (all is not forsaken)
You need never feel broken again
Sometimes darkness can show you the light
Sickening, weakening
Don't let another somber pariah consume your soul
You need strengthening, toughening
It takes an inner dark to rekindle the fire burning in you
Ignite the fire within you
When you think all is forsaken
Listen to me now (all is not forsaken)
You need never feel broken again
Sometimes darkness can show you the light
Don't ignore, listen to me now (all is not forsaken)
You need never feel broken again
Sometimes darkness
Can show you the light
Disturbed - "The Light"