Michelangelo leaned heavily against the headboard, watching Rebecca slowly change out of her clothes. The young woman still appeared to be doing everything on auto-pilot, without showcasing her true emotions. When she yanked the rubber band off her ponytail and shook her curls out, he couldn't help but smile.
Shell, her hair is so beautiful. I don't know why she thinks she needs to have it up all the time.
Rebecca made silent eye contact with him, before coming to rest on the end of the bed. "Would you like something hot, Mike?"
The turtle shook his head, pulling the blanket he was using up further. "No. Just you."
The young woman crawled up beside him, displaying a curious mixture of apprehension and encouragement. Rebecca hadn't said very much since the news of his condition had been delivered, but she hadn't left his side either. Mike sensed that she was trying to come up with the "right" thing to say, and he wanted to relieve her mind if it was possible.
"C'mere, Beck." He invited her into his arms, and she didn't hesitate to curl up beside him. As Mike ran his hand lightly over the curls framing her face he felt Rebecca shiver, but her blue-green eyes held him in an unflinching gaze. The fearlessness of the look struck him.
She's the only one who's really been able to look me in the eyes over the last few hours.
"You're the best. Do you know that?" he asked.
She shook her head in confusion. "I haven't done anything."
"Yes, you have," he said seriously. "Just being with you is comforting; you have no idea."
"I honestly don't know how that could be."
He smiled. "That's because you don't know how great you are."
Rebecca couldn't smile, but she didn't resist his attempt to draw her closer either. Silence filled the air between them for a couple of minutes, until the young woman took a sharp breath.
"I don't want you to just accept this," she said softly. "Mike, tell me you're not going to give up on me."
Her words made tears spring back to his eyes. "Beck, I would never give up that easily. I don't want this to happen any more than you do. I think I'm just kind of numb right now, like the full impact of it hasn't hit me yet. In a way, though, there's something good about it. Whether the docs can save me or not, they're going to learn from this. Maybe even enough to help everyone else, if that time comes. That could be the real reason I'm not flipping out. If there's hope that the geniuses can figure out this puzzle by working on me, it almost makes it all worth it."
"You sound like a martyr, Mike."
"I'm just saying, if I'm gonna die, I wouldn't mind it so much if I knew my brothers and Olivia would live."
"What about our baby, Mikey? Are you planning on giving him a chance to meet you before you die for him?"
He could tell he'd struck a nerve, but he wasn't sure how to recover. "I told you I don't want this, Becky. I don't want to leave you or our baby. I was only thinking that if I have to go, I want the docs to get something out of this."
Rebecca's eyes narrowed. "I don't want you to think that way, at least, not yet. I'm not ready to hear this."
Michelangelo nodded. "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to act like it's not a big deal, Beck. I know what this means to everybody. I mean, let's face it. I'm a popular guy."
She giggled in spite of herself. "Only you could find some way to make me laugh about this."
He grinned, enjoying the way the smile lingered on her face for a few seconds. "It's a gift."
"You're the gift, Mike," she replied. "You've been giving it to me ever since you found me in that rainforest, and threw me off that cliff."
"You had to know I was unique, right from the start."
"That's one word for it." Rebecca released a shuddering sigh as she wedged herself further under his arm.
"Don't let me crush the baby," he murmured.
She glanced up at him with another small smile. "No one related to you guys could be that easily destroyed."
Mike gently toyed with one of her curls as her body heat soothed him both physically and mentally. Having Rebecca close was better than any medicine he could think of. He intentionally tried to breathe more quietly, so she wouldn't hear the slight wheeze behind it, and maintained a smile in case she looked at him.
"Are you sure you don't need anything?" she asked out of the blue.
He shook his head. "Nope. This is enough."
Her blue-green eyes fixed on the ceiling, and he felt like she was working up her courage to ask something.
Slowly, she reached for his hand. "Are you scared, Mike?"
"Yeah," he said quietly. "I think if anyone said they weren't scared at all, they'd probably be lying. I'm not ready for this, Becky. I don't want to go."
He heard her sniff, and her grip on his fingers tightened. "I don't want you to go either. But there's still hope, Mike. You heard Doc earlier. I don't want to start grieving until I have no other choice. Will you promise me that you'll keep fighting too? I know you're going to get tired, and I'm going to be here for you. I just need to hear you say that you won't be giving yourself up as some sacrificial offering to save anyone else."
Mike shook his head. "I'll cooperate with the docs. I'm gonna do whatever it takes. I don't want you to start grieving, or anyone else. I think that would only make it harder to stay positive. I'll try my hardest to hold on, and if you can think good thoughts, that would help me a lot too."
"If there's any way I can help ease this burden, I'm going to do it, Mikey. I don't want you walking around here faking it either. If there are times when you're not feeling happy, don't push the act down our throats. No one is strong all the time, and you're going to need support. Don't hesitate to let us help you, and please don't try to hide anything from me."
"I won't, Beck. I know I need help. I won't make it without you and my brothers."
There were tears shining in her eyes when she looked at him again. "I don't know if I can make it without you. I don't even want to think about it."
"Please don't do that to yourself. All this stress can't be good for you and the baby. You've got to take it easy too." She started to shake her head, but he nodded insistently. "You have to take care of yourself for the baby's sake."
"I'm going to, Mike. I would never let anything happen to our child. I'll do whatever it takes to bring him safely into the world too."
Donatello, Luke, and Marcus had been up in the Lab for a couple of hours, kicking around ideas for where to go from the results that they'd received that day. The purple-masked turtle sat back thoughtfully for a moment, and allowed the doctors to carry the discussion.
"We already know from experience with Splinter that breathing treatments should help prolong him," Marcus commented. "I don't think we should hold off on those, or wait for him to get any worse."
Luke nodded his agreement. "Let's get the machine set up tonight, and he can begin with getting the treatment at least once a day, unless necessity requires it more often. I need to get on the phone with Caleb. I've been putting this off a little, but the sooner we can get inside the Institute, the sooner we can formulate a real plan."
Donatello had assumed from the beginning that Luke's plan wouldn't involve acquiring Dr. Well's direct assistance with the situation. He couldn't deny that he was uncomfortable with the idea of stealing information from the Genetic Institute, but their options were few.
I guess it isn't that different from when I've had to hack the polices' database, or even when we cracked that Evidence Bunker in Okinawa. We have to do what we have to do. Even if it means pilfering someone else's life work, he added ruefully. Not that we'd be interfering in his research; we only need copies of what he's working on. I just don't know if it will be enough. The genetic process is so complicated. It isn't something you simply learn from books or someone's notes. We need hands on lab work, someone to guide us through this...
The prospect of discerning a solution from the Lab's research in the amount of time that Michelangelo had left was daunting. But Greg's right. It'd be ridiculous to sit back and do nothing, even if I don't think we can pull this off. We have to try.
Don caught Luke and Marcus staring at him, and realized he'd probably missed something. "Uh...I didn't catch that," he admitted sheepishly. "What were you saying?"
"It would help if we had some kind of small camera that we could take into the Institute with us," Luke said. "That way, we could get a digital record of the lay-out, in addition to what I can mentally recall. Do you think you could pull something together?"
Donny nodded. "Sure, no sweat. I'll put a couple of lenses together tonight, so they'll be ready when you need them. Hopefully Dr. Wells is eager to share his work with you, and the two of you could be behind the scenes as early as tomorrow."
"I'll try not to sound over-eager," Luke replied. "I don't want to come across as desperate or odd in any shape or form. I'm going to get him on the phone now, and see what I can set-up."
The purple-masked turtle leaned his elbows on the desk wearily. He felt like he'd aged about twenty years in the span of a few hours. But there's work to do, and I don't want them having to wait on the cameras. I'm going to need to build the devices from scraps. Before he could get to work taking an inventory on the electronic components he had available to him, however, there was a knock at the door. Jenna stuck her head inside without waiting for an invitation.
Donatello raised a hand in greeting. "Hi, Jen. C'mon in."
The young woman didn't move. "Don, you need to come down for a few minutes and eat something. I want you out of this Lab."
After his poor behavior earlier that day, he wasn't even tempted to argue with her. Donatello reached for her shoulder as she descended the stairs in front of him and she stopped to look back at him. Her light blue eyes practically seared through him with their intensity.
"Jen, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for worrying you, and pushing you away."
She didn't say anything, but then started descending once more. "I've been through some things in my life, Donny, and I've survived all of them so far. But one of the things I don't think I could take is losing you under a cloud of depression. I don't blame you for being overwhelmed, or even for feeling guilty. I know you can't help how you feel. But this family can't afford to lose you, and...you would absolutely break my heart forever if you gave up too soon. Do you understand where I'm coming from?"
"Yeah, I do," he said morosely. "I was behaving badly and being incredibly insensitive. It's a strange feeling to have the rug pulled out from underneath something you really believe in, Jen. The special 'destiny' we've come to trust in, believing that our lives were serving some kind of greater purpose, and that it wasn't all some silly accident...All of that has been shaken. The circumstances we were created under were flawed."
Jenna stopped in her tracks. "Like humans are so perfect? We're born with genetic defects. We have hereditary illnesses. Children can get cancer, are born with heart conditions, and even mental handicaps. Does that mean there's no purpose in their lives, Donny?"
"No, Jen, that's not what I meant."
"I know what you meant, Donatello. Your line of thinking has been that some mysterious force has been watching over you for your entire lives. Now that this is happening, you're questioning whether you've been fooling yourself."
"Well..."
"I know that's what it is, Donny, and you're looking at this the wrong way. I understand why you're so discouraged, but consider where we are right now. We're 600 miles away from the city, in the secluded hills of North Carolina...and we just so happen to have ended up in the same neighborhood of a Genetic Institute, that could hold the key to rescuing all of you. I'm sorry, but that doesn't sound like some off 'chance' to me. It seems like your 'turtle luck' is alive and well."