Training had started and passed the next day, and the three able turtles had gone out topside for what Leo had started referring to as patrol. Mikey didn't like that; it made the whole idea sound a whole lot less fun. It was quiet today. Some Purple Dragons had needed a beatdown and they'd brought it straight to them, but aside from that, it was almost peaceful out. So of course, the turtle brothers made conversation as they stealthily moved through the city.
"Hey, Mikey, I've got a question."
Michelangelo nodded, pulling one of his headphones away to hear Leo's question. "Yeah, Leo?"
"Why'd you settle for 'turtleroach'? I mean, there's a whole lot of better names out there. Why that?"
"Well, Leo," Mikey said. "It was either that, or 'cockles'. And that just sounds messed up, am I right?" He grinned and leapt to another rooftop, proud of his naming skills. If there was an award for naming stuff, Michelangelo would have gotten it a year ago at least. "How d'ya guys think Raph's doing?"
"Urgh..." Raphael sat on the edge of his bed, having tried to stand and shake the sleep out of his legs, and having failed miserably. Whatever this thing was, cockroach, turtleroach or what, it was taking its toll on him. He'd managed to get his comic books, though, so there was something to do. All of them had been read, multiple times, but he wasn't complaining. Raphael lay back and opened one, practically burying his nose in it.
He pulled it away slowly once he realized which comic he'd opened. It was one April had gotten him a while ago, based on a popular sci-fi movie series about an alien creature that claimed victims by implanting an embryo and, in its advanced stages, several, inside a host. Those later burrowed their way out of their (often human, but there was a cat once) host's stomach, or chest, wherever it had been placed. The graphics of the comic were downright gruesome, but in the different circumstances Raphael was facing when April had given it to him, he found it absolutely awesome.
Right now? Not so much.
That comic went straight to the bottom of the pile.
His insides felt like they were throbbing. Raph had tried to eat something, but his stomach wasn't having any of it, and made its protest known in the worst way possible. Water was staying down, but barely. He could feel it come up halfway, but it would always go right back down, much to his relief. Another comic, a less circumstantially horrifying one, made its way into his hands and he busied himself with that.
For hours, Raphael was lost in the zombie apocalypse, chaos and carnage, until a sharp sting dragged him from the comic world and into a harsh reality. And the reality was, whatever was in that egg, or eggs, was getting ready to hatch. Donnie had said Wednesday, or Thursday at the latest... He couldn't find it in him to be ready.
But yet, he had to be. Tomorrow was Wednesday. It would either be tomorrow or the next day. Raphael was trying to prepare for the worst, but still he hoped for the best. It would be alright though, he kept telling himself. Donnie had to know what he was doing. Right? Right. He sighed, letting the open book fall onto his plastron as he closed his eyes. He would need all the rest he could get before tomorrow. Or Thursday, whenever this dumb 'turtleroach' would make its appearance. His three-fingered hands folded over his chest as he dozed off again, his breathing steady and calm.
Another nightmare jolted him awake, around what had to have been five in the morning. The nightmare, perhaps, or a sudden dull ache deep inside him. Donatello's warning about how it didn't take long for cockroach eggs to hatch repeated itself in Raph's mind, and before he knew it, he was calling out desperately for his younger brother right as the pain intensified and his muscles seized up, and he found himself unable to speak or even swallow the nerve-induced salivation that was starting to accumulate. His eyes had rolled back, and he could feel his fingers and later his other limbs twitching.