The sound of running water echoed in Michelangelo's conscious mind, seeming further away than it should have been. Presently the sound grew louder, until it re-entered the atmosphere of the room in which he was sitting. The orange-masked turtle blinked in confusion, and became aware of the fact that he was on the bathroom floor and the water was running. The curtain was partially open so that a small mist was escaping from the showerhead.
He stretched his arms toward the tub to get some leverage to rise, and took a shaky breath when it felt like his legs weren't going to support him. Mike leaned over the edge to turn off the water, and remained crouched near the floor to rest for a few seconds. He wanted to give himself time to see if he could get his balance back, but things weren't improving.
Mike straightened up as far as he could and staggered to the sink, leaning heavily against the counter top. He was just examining the busted lip he'd received in the fall; when there was an urgent knock at the door.
"Hello?" he called.
"Bro, are you okay in there? We thought we heard something."
The idea of hiding what was happening didn't even occur to Mike this time. "Open the door, Leo."
He heard Leonardo's feet shift across the tile, but Mike didn't look at him immediately.
"Mike? Are you all right?"
"I need help," he said honestly. "I don't know if I can make it somewhere to sit back down."
Mike barely heard the sharp intake of air Leonardo took as he moved to assist him.
"Jen, run and get Donny, would you?" the blue-masked turtle called toward the hall.
The raven-haired woman peered inside the room quickly, before she hurried to find Donatello.
"You can relax if you want, Mike," Leo reassured him. "I've got you."
Michelangelo breathed some of the tension out of his muscles as he trusted his weight to Leonardo. The older turtle had just finished walking him around to the Great Room when Mike heard the rapid footsteps on the stairs that indicated Donatello's approach. The orange-masked turtle hardly had time to sit down before his purple-masked brother was at his side.
"What's going on, Mike?"
"Nothing, I just got real weak. I might have passed out for a couple of seconds."
Donatello's fingers carefully probed his head, searching for the possibility of injuries. "Do you remember feeling dizzy?"
"I don't know, but I'm okay now that I'm sitting down." Michelangelo accepted a wet rag that Leonardo had obtained to deal with his bleeding lip, while Donny was checking the pulse on his other wrist.
"Am I curable?" Mike offered him a smile, which Donatello was too distracted to return.
"We probably should have kept you upstairs longer," he murmured. "The procedure went smoothly, but if you're feeling dizzy-"
"Don. Chill, and look at me. Do I have a pulse, am I breathing? I just feel wiped out." Michelangelo saw Donatello's gaze track back up the stairs, and he cleared his throat sharply. "Donny, no. We had a deal, remember? I said you could use that ungodly instrument-"
"It's called a bronchoscope, Mikey, and it's the least invasive way that we could get to your lung tissue. Would you have preferred we go at your chest with a needle?"
"Whatever it was. I said go ahead, but only on the condition that your research doesn't start until tomorrow."
"Why are you making such a big deal that I wait, Mike? The results are upstairs. All I have to do-"
"All you're going to do is take a load off with the rest of us and relax. One night of peace, Bro. Does that sound okay to you?"
The purple-masked turtle shrugged, and his gaze was drawn to the stairs again.
"The computer and all the doohickeys will still be up there tomorrow, Don, I guarantee it. Please? Will you do this for me, your favorite brother?"
Raphael snorted on the couch across from Mike. "Most annoying brother is more like it. He's got a point though, Genius. You brainiacs had to do a lot of hard work to get the Lab set up and fix me."
"That was two days ago, Raph," Donatello countered.
"One more day won't change our lives." Michelangelo gave Donny the saddest eyes he could muster, and his brother shook his head.
"You know I'm impervious to that look now."
"Are you? That gives me the chance to try out a few new ones. How's this one working on you?" Mike stuck out his lip as far as it would go, inadvertently earning a giggle from Reina, who was balancing against the coffee table. "If that doesn't work, I've got a dozen more I could pull out of my hat."
"Or," Leonardo said decisively. "You could go walk over to the kitchen, and take a look at what Karina and the girls have been pulling together snack-wise for the movies."
"Well...I can't be up all night, Mike. That'll completely throw me off from getting an early start," Donatello wheedled. "I kind of enjoy getting up at the same time as the sun when we have the chance to see it. One movie wouldn't hurt me."
"Three," Mike argued.
"Mike, that's ridiculous."
"Not for one of our marathons, it isn't. C'mon, Donny, you said you'd do it."
"I didn't want to completely sedate you just to put that stupid scope down your throat. Two movies, and that's it for me."
"I get to pick," Mike insisted with a grin. The orange-masked turtle expected to be met with a chorus of groans, and he wasn't disappointed. "I'll let the girls pick one of them, but I want..." He trailed off as Rebecca jogged into the room.
"Mike, are you okay? Jen said...You are hurt."
"Not badly, Beck." He yanked the rag away from his mouth again.
"How did it happen?"
"I fell because I was dizzy, but I'm off my feet now."
"You're going to stay that way," she said threateningly.
"Yes, he is, because that's the only condition that I'll stay down here too," Donatello added.
"You mean I have to sit here and wait for people to serve me? That sounds like pure torture." Mike was joking, but as he cast a glance at Raphael to see the strange metal base of rods that encased his left leg, he grimaced. Now that's gotta be torture.
"When are the festivities supposed to start?" Don asked Rebecca.
"The cookies just came out of the oven, which means room is freed up for the pizzas to go in," she replied, but her eyes lingered on Mike. "Are you really okay?"
He stretched to reach for her arm, and she allowed him to pull her over to the couch. "Yeah, Becky. I don't feel great, but I've been worse too. I'm ready to eat, if nothing else."
"I hope a lot of people are ready to eat." She finally smiled as he rested his hands of her hips.
"How are you feeling?" he asked pointedly.
Her smile suddenly felt shyer in nature, and a blush crept onto her cheeks. "I'm good, Mike. Somehow all of the annoying quirks that I've been feeling over the last couple of weeks don't matter much anymore, not now that I know what's going on."
"How's the baby? Is he hungry?"
Rebecca cocked her head in amusement. "You'd have to ask him, but he's your kid, so the chances are pretty strong that he could eat too."
He tugged a little harder, and she bent down to his level like he'd hooked her on a fishing line. Rebecca kissed him briefly on the lips, and then straightened.
"I should help the girls finish up. Stay out of trouble, Mikey."
He smiled innocently as the young woman gave him a parting glance, then turned to Donatello. His purple-masked brother was still standing in the hall. "C'mon in and sit down, bro. The party starts any time now."
Reluctantly, as one led away after a sad defeat, Donatello joined them in the Great Room. The knock at the front door startled the turtles, and there was nearly a scramble for cover before Leonardo jumped to his feet.
"Greg went outside for something. Maybe he locked himself out."
When the blue-masked turtle swung the door open, it was clear the man's hands were full.
"Thanks, Leo. Do you mind giving me a hand? I brought up a couple loads of firewood."
"Fire?" Mike echoed. "No way. That would be so cool."
"The temperature has really dropped on the back end of that front," Greg told him. "It'll probably get down to the forties tonight, and Doc said we might even get freezing rain or snow tomorrow."
"Fun," Leo said distastefully. "At least we have the backup generators, right?"
"Yep. It would totally suck to lose power in a place like this. God knows how long it could take someone to get up here and fix it," Greg theorized. "Anyhow. Would you give me a hand real quick?"
Leonardo moved to retrieve one of the bundles sitting outside the door, and Donatello bent down to pick up the blond-haired baby as she toddled into Greg's path.
"Gotcha, fugitive," Don said affectionately to the little girl. He settled down in a chair with Reina in his lap, smiling as she drew her knees up underneath her and bounced lightly on his legs. "You don't know how to sit still, do you?"
"'Course she does, Genius," Raphael offered. "But the world is too interesting for her or Liv to sit back and wait for something to happen."
As the minutes wore on, the rest of their housemates migrated toward the Great Room, and the smell of homemade pizzas wafted out of the kitchen. The first movie went in not long after the food was ready. The orange-masked turtle didn't have a tremendous appetite, but he took his time and enjoyed everything he could get down.
Rebecca cuddled against his side as Inception started, and he chuckled at the intensity with which she was trying to interpret the first confusing twenty minutes of the movie.
"What's with all the rioting, Mike? I have to know."
"You'll find out in a little while. Give it time to get into the story," he assured her.
She lapsed back into silence to listen to what Leonardo DiCaprio's character was saying. Mike was pleasantly surprised when the rest of the chatter died down too. Most of their movie marathons didn't dare focus on a serious movie, because they only half-watched the DVD's in between conversations. Only a couple of people present had actually seen this movie though, and it was forcing everyone to settle down and listen.
Michelangelo's mind wandered slightly, and he started focusing more on the crackling sound of the fireplace in the background than the actors' dialogue. They've been talking about doing a biopsy for so long, I'm glad it's over with. I just hope it helps somehow. I'd hate to think they were counting on that sample for answers, and still might not get any.
He brushed his hand over Rebecca's curls, and the young woman rested further against his plastron. Every time he'd looked at her in the last couple of days, he couldn't stop thinking about the baby news that had been recently delivered.
I don't know how I'm going to wait patiently, now that I know it's happening. This is gonna be so amazing. Karina had it rough though, and I suppose Becky is gonna have to go through it too. I gotta believe she'll be okay.
Mike folded his arms protectively around her waist, as if he could somehow ease the pain of the pregnancy by his will alone. He lost track of the minutes further and was honestly close to dozing until Becky elbowed him lightly in the side.
"I thought you said this would get easier to understand," she mentioned.
Michelangelo peered at the screen and nodded. "Do you get that all three groups are inside different dreams right now?"
"What I'm not sure about is whether or not an elevator could really be forced to free fall when there isn't any gravity."
"You're over thinking it, Beck. It's just fantasy after all."
"Fantasy shouldn't have to mean unrealistic. They're the ones who set the boundaries to begin with, and they're not going to bother obeying them?"
"Hey, Beck, you're missing the movie. This part is kind of important."
"I don't get the movie, Mike, and something tells me I never will."