Author's Notes: Your pleas for continuation have been heard, dear reader who are more loyal than I deserve. You have appealed to my humanity and I offer this olive branch of peace in the hopes that this chapter will bring your forgiveness. I apologize so very much for the unbearably and horribly long wait. Please, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Dark Tunnels Chapter Three: Malignant Waters

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Would be awesome if I did.

See Leo! Told ya they'd get you out of there eventually!

*Leo mumbles unintelligibly*

Uhh. . . Leo? You okay there, love?

Chapter Three: Malignant Waters

Previously on Dark Tunnels. . .

"Oh God. Oh no," Don muttered in frantic horror.

Raph dropped to his knees beside his two brothers. "What izit? Whatsa matter, Brainiac?"

Don had Leo lying on his side, examining his carapace. "He . . . There's . . ." He stumbled to find words. Don locked his gaze with Raph's. "He has a crack in his shell. There's blood. . . Raph, it's split across his spine."

"Is that. . . How bad is that?"

"Depending on the severity of it, he could potentially be a paraplegic! The possibility of spinal cord damage, and if infection sets in, if the initial shock of—"

"English, Genius," Raph growled. "What does that mean?"

"It means, Raph, that he could potentially be paralyzed from the waist down but I can't do anything about it out here, or even know the full extent of the damage until he—"

"Donnie?" A soft voice interrupted.

Don's eyes shot down to the brother he still held lying on his side. He carefully leaned forward, avoiding jostling any of Leo's injuries, to look into the leader's face. Sure enough, a pair of dark brown eyes, almost onyx in color, blinked back at him. They were slightly glazed over from the concussion, but held Don's warm chocolate gaze all the same.

"Leo." Don's breath came out in a huff of relief. His brother was lucid again.

"Leo!" Raph called out, just under a shout. He cradled his older brother's head with his hands to relieve the weight on his neck.

Leo locked eyes with his hotheaded brother before glancing around as best he could in his sideways position. "Raph. Don. Where's Mikey? I-I heard him c-callin' me."

Don frowned as his brother stuttered and slurred his speech. Perhaps the concussion was worse than he thought.

Raphael was quick to reassure his brother. "Mike's fine, bro. Ya got 'im outta the way in time."

Leo nodded awkwardly against Raph's calloused hands.

"How are you Leo?" Don asked, switching on his 'Doctor' mode. "Any pain? Nausea? Dizziness? Difficulty breathing?"

"You say 'fine' an' I'll pop ya a good one," Raph growled in warning as Leo opened his mouth to reply.

The blue-banded turtle paused to reconsider his answer. He knew Raph wouldn't really hit him in his current state, but best not to risk invoking his brother's wrath. With a sigh, he conceded to his brothers' wishes. "My . . head hurts . . . a little dizzy. . . My shoulder, left n' side. . . Back. . . Chest. . . Geez, I feel like I was hit by a truck."

"Might as well have," Don remarked humorlessly as he dug in his duffle bag for antiseptic, bandages and medical tape. He mentally calculated the similarities between being hit by a truck at high-way speeds, and being crushed under a literal half ton of stone rubble. All things considered, they had come out rather lucky. But, of course. . . Taking a deep breath, Don asked the question that's answer he was most dreading. "Leo, can you feel your legs? I need you to move your feet for me."

Leo paused for a moment, absorbing Don's request, before obeying. He wiggled each foot, one after the other, scrunching and straightening his toes. "Mnh. I don't think anything is broken," he replied, misinterpreting the reasons for the question.

Don closed his eyes and breathed out in relief, silently thanking God in all His power. His brother wasn't paralyzed. (A/N: Had ya worried there for a while, though, didn't I? xD)

"So tha's good then, right Donnie?"

Don nodded and opened his eyes to smile at his hotheaded brother's anxious face. "Very good, Raph. Now, Leo, I need you to stay awake until I've checked that concussion properly." After getting a weary nod from the leader, the tech loving turtle turned his words back to Raphael. "I need to tend to his shell first, clean out the wound and cover it to keep it from getting infected. There isn't much blood, and despite that initial scare, he should be fine as long as he doesn't put excess pressure on his spine or shell for a few weeks. After I finish, you and I are going to put his shoulder back in place."

After receiving a nod of acknowledgement from his red-banded brother, Don went about cleaning out the tiny pieces of stone debris from the crack in his brother's shell, taping gauze over the crack to keep out infection. After a moment's thought, he cleaned and bandaged the side wound as well.

All the while, Raph had been coercing Leo to remain conscious by telling him about Mikey's most recently pulled prank on the resident hothead. ". . . and it took almost two days of scrubbin' to finally get it to wash off. I still owe that chucklehead a knuckle san'wich."

Leo let out a weak chuckle, ignoring the pain it and his purple-clad brother's gentle cleaning caused. "So that's why Mike's been hiding in the dojo with a stack of comics and his GameGuy during free-time these past few days. I was beginning to wonder."

It wasn't the first time one of the four turtles had had a concussion. They all knew the drill by now. Michelangelo had come home many a time concussed and limping from his 'Sewer-Surfing' excursions. Raph, from his jaunts topside, and even Leo a few times in a fight and once during the 'incident' in the kitchen; but that was a tale for another time. By the time Don had gotten his first concussion, the other three had taken care of everything with only minimal panicking from their orange-banded brother, as he was wont to do anytime one of his brothers were hurt in the slightest. So, in summary, Raphael knew what he was doing.

"Ah, so that's where he's been hidin'. Now I know where ta—"

"Raph, we need to reposition his shoulder," Don interrupted gently.

Nodding in acknowledgement, Raphael made to reach his right hand up and brace it against Leo's side. Coincidentally, it was his injured hand, the discoloration of the almost-dried-but-still-tacky blood clearly visible in the light of the flashlight's beam Donnie was aimlessly point downward while he again searched for something in his bag. Even more coincidentally, Leonardo's eyes tracked the movement of Raph's appendage and instantly spotted the gash on his brother's hand.

In true Leo fashion, he immediately grew concerned at his brother's injury and ignored his own condition. With his good arm, despite the jostling it caused his bad one, he reached up and grasped Raph's wrist, bringing it closer to his face to inspect the bloodied cut. "Raph, your hurt." It was a statement, not a question, but the stern worry emitted from his tone hit both of his brothers, causing Donnie to glance over, and Raph to resist the urge to yank his arm away.

"Yer hurt worse than me," Raph replied gruffly, but without heat. After the unnerving mindless mumbling his brother was spouting just a few minutes ago, the abrupt return to character was quite welcome. Only Leo could make Raph glad to have his selfless brother back.

"You know what Donnie always says, 'Any cut can get infected—'"

"'When you live in a sewer.' Yeah I remember. 'It bleeds, disinfect,'" Raphael finished, quoting two of Dr. Don's favorite lines to throw at them. It had taken time and much effort to enforce that rule within their home, and still took Donnie threatening to amputate Mikey's foot if it turned septic after his forth infection in a nine month stretch of time due to not treating minor scratches and scrapes on his legs before treading through sewer water to ingrain it in everyone's minds.

"Leo, bro, let's just finish patching you up first," Donnie reasoned. "Raph will be fine for a few minutes."

"Help Raph first," and Don couldn't tell if it was an order or a plea with the way Leo strained his neck to look Donnie in the eye.

Donnie blew out a sigh before pulling the antiseptic back out of his bag, as well as a roll of bandages. "Hand," he demanded of Raph, his own fingers stretched out in invitation.

"Leo. Seriously? Don, come on," Raph spluttered defiantly.

"You know how Leo is. This is quicker than arguing with him." He wiggled his fingers in a 'come hither' motion. "Besides, I'd have to treat your hand after, anyway." I should have done it sooner, he berates himself, but I was too distracted, too worried about Leo to stop and think. . .

With an irritated huff, Raph offered up his hand. Donnie made fast work of cleaning and wrapping the offending limb, Raph not even flinching when the stinging disinfectant was rubbed across the torn flesh, years of use making him accustomed to the annoyance it caused minor wounds.

When the task was complete, Don went back to his bag while Raph waved his newly bandaged hand before Leo's eyes. "There, happy now?"

The corner of Leo's mouth quirks up in a slight half smile. "Quite."

Raph snorts in amusement, rolling his eyes. "Only you, Fearless. Only you."

"Now, no arguments about us fixing your arm back in place," Don warns, turning his attention back on his injured leader. He holds a small, but thick, piece of clean leather in front of Leo's mouth. "Bite down on this."

Leo did so without complaint. It wasn't the first time one of them had had a dislocated appendage in need of repositioning, and they all knew that pain-wise if felt worse than a broken bone, especially when it was put back in place.

Raphael gently laid Leonardo's head on his knee and braced both hands holding the blue-banded turtle's shell and side. Donatello stood on his knees and firmly grasped the upper and lower part of Leo's left arm. "Ready?" At Raph's nod and Leo's grunt of affirmation, Don began counting down. "On three. One. Two. Three."

Donnie thrust Leo's arm forward and up until he heard the satisfying, yet sickening, pop of the limb sliding back into its place, quickly followed by a muffled yelp of pain from Leo. Task finished, Raph went back to talking with Leo to help him past the pain and Donnie checked the shoulder joint for any damage he could feel.

"How ya doin' bro?" Raph asked softly. Or as soft as he could get with his rough voice.

"I'm fine," Leo breathed out, attempting to push the pain to the back of his mind.

"What'd I say 'bout saying that?"

"Sorry," he answered automatically, relaxing his tightly clenched eyes.

"Ya ain't got nothin' ta be sorry for neither," Raph announced, halfway looking for a response, and halfway trying to help distract his brother from his sufferings. Raphael had been the unfortunate barer of a dislocated shoulder once before, so knew firsthand what Leo must be feeling.

Gratefully humoring his brother's attempts at distraction, Leo muttered, "What would you rather I say?"

"How 'bout that it friggin' hurts like shell?" He supplied.

With a huff of amusement, Leo accepted that. "Well, there is that. But I will be fine."

"That is true," Donnie piped in, then turned a stern eye on Leo. "Assuming you will let yourself heal before working yourself to death."

Apparently Leo had nothing to say to that, and after a moment of silence, and another of hesitation, Raph and Donnie helped him into a sitting position.

After Don had checked Leo's head, diagnosing him with a mild concussion, and used a roll of bandages to tie a makeshift sling for his arm, Leo asked, "Where is Mikey? You guys said he was alright, but. . ."

Raph looked at him curiously. "But what?"

"I just have a bad feeling, is all."

"That's probably just the concussion. Mikey is fine," Donnie reassured. "The walls down here are too thick, so he went farther down the tunnel to find a cell signal to call for help. He should be back any—"

At that moment, as if on cue, an unmistakable ear-piercing shriek resonated down the tunnel to them. All three froze, listening for another sound from their youngest brother. When no other sound but the echoes of the scream and a nearby trickling of water were presented, the three brothers all shouted "Mikey!" at the same time.

Raph immediately hopped to his feet, calling Mikey's name repeatedly as he began scrabbling at the rock debris still blocking the tunnel, similar to how Mikey had just twenty minutes ago.

The force with which Raph was exerting onto the stone caused tremors to once again shake the tunnel.

As dust rained down around them, Donnie leaned over Leo in an attempt to shelter his injured brother, while Leo firmly gripped Donnie's arm in both protest and warning. "Raph! Raph!" Don shouted, desperate to get his hotheaded brother's attention. "Stop it! You'll being the whole tunnel down on us!"

"But Mikey—"

"Guys, shh! Do you hear that?" Leo spoke up suddenly.

"I don't—" Raph stopped abruptly when he heard what Leo was talking about.

Growing up underground, the turtles had grown accustomed to the sound of running water, whether it be rainwater pouring from street gutters or the gurgle of water through pipes, they were used to hearing it. So it was understandable that none of them thought anything of it when they heard trickling of water in a dry tunnel that was entirely silent before the cave in. But when that sound of trickling water became a sloshing and rush of water directly behind them, they all realized their mistake.

Quick as a flash, Donnie snatched up the metal cylinder beside him and directed its beam down the tunnel behind them—

Only to almost drop the flashlight from what he saw.

Raph's jaw dropped at the sight when he spun around; Leo twisted about as best he could, his face remaining a stoic mask even with his continued grip on Donnie's arm.

Behind them stood a being made of pure water, standing in the shape of a man large enough to give even Hun a run for his money. The light from the flashlight shown through its translucent center and reflected strangely around the tunnel. The water within the form swirled, like the surface of a soap bubble. Transparent though it was, the creature was not clear. A black tinge churned within its impossible form, a consistency similar to diluted ink. Its hunched form too tall for the tunnel; poorly outlined hands dangled at its side a mere foot from the ground.

Without a word being said, Raphael had his sai out and leapt in front of his brothers, standing protectively before them. Donnie had his weapon out as well, standing and ready to defend.

Before Leo could unsheathe his own weapon, the bad feeling that he had felt earlier for Mikey, he now felt for his other two brothers and himself. Something bad will happen and I won't be able to stop it. "Raph—" He tried to warn, but at that moment, the liquefied behemoth struck, a single oceanic fist crashed over them. Rushing water surged around them, swirling about and sweeping them away in a flooding, violent tempest. The turbulent torrent engulfed them in a dizzying whirl, flowed and pulled them through the hole in the side of the cavernous tunnel in some sick parody of a horizontal drain, defying both gravity and nature itself with its anomalous movement.

As the turtles and the drowning swell disappeared into the unknown tunnel, the gaping hole forming the mouth of the mystery tunnel was sealed over, the stone growing from nowhere to close and heal until there was not but the solid stone wall it was before the cave in.

From the shadows stepped a man, wrapped in a black cloak that made him nearly invisible in the darkness of the underground tunnel. His cold grey eyes flashed in greedy triumph as a cruel laugh escaped his withered lips. As the echoes of his laughter subsided, the man vanished back into the shadows, leaving the tunnel empty and still, quiet as a grave.

Futurus persevero . . .

[To be continued . . .]

Author's Note: While I can't make up for the length of time I left you all hanging for, seeing as this chapter is twenty six hundred words long, which is nearly twice the length of chapter two, I hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me. I will work on getting the next chapter out as soon as I can, but my updates always prove to be spontaneous and erratic, as I am sure you well know by now. I am putting my spring break to good use right now, writing and updating as many stories I can before I am thrust back into the world of knowledge and learning and away from my precious Ninja Turtles. I sort of rushed to get this done, so I hope there are not too many errors near the end. Hoping you all are well and enjoyed this terribly late new installment of Dark Tunnels. I do so love all of you who have stuck with me so far. You are truly more than I deserve. And to new comers of the story, welcome and good luck. Take care all! God bless!

-TheOneThatGotAway99