Don hugged the bag to his side as he and Leo slipped out into the hall, checking both ends for any more nurses or doctors. Their green bodies stood out starkly against the gleaming white floors and walls, and many halls didn't even have a potted plant for them to hide behind.
They had to dive behind a janitor's cart when a mumbling, seemingly sleep-deprived resident wandered past them, and into one of the side-rooms when a formidable, goblin-like nurse came storming through the halls. At any moment, they expected to hear someone scream or shout for help at the sight of a man-sized turtle. But nothing came.
"Should I call their Shell Cells?" Don whispered.
"If we don't find them soon," Leo whispered back, poking a door open and peering inside. "The longer we're here, the more likely that someone will find us. We can't—"
A soft footfall — barely heard at all — behind them made them stiffen.
Leo's arm clamped on Don's arm, and they leaped into the empty office without hesitation. Don flattened himself against the wall as best he could, in the shadow cast by the half-open door, but the curved shells on their backs made it difficult. Leo was pressed between the door and the wall, and if someone opened it any wider, they'd notice that someone was behind it.
A dark shape appeared in the doorway, surrounded by ambient light. Don stiffened and inched deeper into the shadows, pressing his bag against the wall. If necessary, he and Leo would simply run, and then —
"Donnie?" a rough voice said.
Don sagged with relief, a smile crossing his face. He darted out of the shadows, and seized Raph's arm. "Raph! It's about time you showed up," he said, only half-meaning it.
"Have you seen Mikey?" Leo said, moving out into the light.
"Not since we got here. The little sneak went off on his own, and I been tryin' to find him," Raph said, scowling and crossing his arms. "I must've checked every room in this whole place."
"He couldn't have just wandered off," Leo said, stroking his chin. "I mean, it's a hospital — it's not like they have anything that would interest him here. No video games, no comic books, no junk food, just a lot of sickness — and patients—"
His voice trailed off into an uncertain silence. An idea was forming in Don's head as he thought back on what Michelangelo had said before they came into the hospital — and judging by the expressions on Leo and Raph's faces the same thought was occurring to them. It was true that most of Michelangelo's usual interests weren't anywhere to be found in a hospital… but it wasn't true that there was nothing that would interest him.
"It can't be," Leo said.
"He wouldn't," Don replied, gripping his bag.
"Oh yes, he would," Raph said grimly. "And I'm gonna kick his tail if that's why he sneaked off."
"We'll just have to check," Leo said, pulling out the floor plans and examining them. "We're just a few turns away from it. If Mikey's in there, we drag him out."
They moved in silence through the halls, their feet moving swiftly on the cold floors. Don found himself glancing over his shoulder frequently, half-expecting to see scrubs-clad figures appearing behind them. The hospital made him nervous, and not just because of the possibility of being seen. The idea of being caught and dissected was one that all four of the Turtles were haunted by. A hospital — with surgical tools, doctors and labs — was more than enough to make them uneasy.
He found himself relieved that he had convinced April not to come on this mission. She had suggested that she could distract nurses and doctors by pretending to be a patient. "I could pretend to faint if you guys needed the distraction," she had suggested. "And Casey could claim he was having stomach pains or something." Don had convinced her that ninja stealth would be more than enough, and he was glad he had — he didn't want anyone in this hospital to discover she was pregnant, and get a look at the fetus.
Facing their destination was a wide, high-fronted desk that curved around the corner of the hall. Two receptionists were stationed there — one had dozed off in her chair, and the other one was deep in a pile of paperwork.
Leo turned and beckoned his brothers closer, the gesture one Don knew meant "follow my lead." Then the leader ducked down into a walking crouch, and darted past the desk to the wide glass doors embedded in the wall, allowing a slightly distorted view of what lay behind them. Don crouched down and moved behind Leo, his legs bumping into his chest, and his eyes rising to look through the glass doors.
Mikey was in there. He could see a green figure with a splash of orange standing in the midst of the incubators — and if someone walked in, they would see him.
Leo opened the door carefully, making sure that no noise was heard, and Don and Raph slunk in after him. Raph managed to wait until the door closed once again before he erupted. "Are you outta your mind, comin' in here? Doctors 'n' nurses are gonna be here any second, and they're gonna see a five-foot turtle creepin' around the babies!"
Mikey didn't seem to react at first. Then slowly he turned to face them, and Don was shocked to see that there wasn't a trace of a smile or a joke on his face. Mikey only rarely looked like that, and only in dire circumstances.
"They're so little," he said in a low voice. "Why are they so… tiny?"
Don came closer, and looked at the incubator that Mikey had been gazing into, already with an idea of what was in it. Inside was an infant small enough that he might have been able to hold it in one large hand, with spindly reddened limbs tangled in tubes and patches of gauze. It looked almost painfully delicate, as if a stray breeze might hurt it, but Don was suddenly seized by a desire to hold it, comfort it. He watched as the tiny ribcage expanded and contracted with every breath, and one tiny hand fluttered as the baby dreamed.
Leo came closer to Mikey, and looked down somberly into the incubator. "The babies in this area are ones that were born prematurely, or who had something wrong with them when they were born," he said quietly, resting a hand on Mikey's shoulder. "That one needed a month or two more, I guess."
Mikey put a hand on the transparent plastic. "Is he… or she… gonna be okay?" he asked.
"I'm sure the baby will be fine, Mikey," Leo said soothingly. "They're giving him or her the best of care. But right now, we have a baby to take care of at home—"
"And for once it ain't you," Raph said.
"—and we need to get out of here before someone catches us in the NICU," Leo finished. "Nothing would get everyone on high alert faster than what appear to be little green men around the premature babies."
"I guess you're right," Mikey said reluctantly. He peered down into the incubator. "Stay strong, little baby," he said quietly.
They moved out quietly, the receptionists never noticing the four silent shapes exiting the NICU, and made their way to an office with a large enough window to slip out of. Don waited until Leo was securely stationed outside to hand him the bag, unwilling to risk its precious contents by crawling out with it on his body.
"We'd better get back quick," Leo said as he took the bag carefully. "I hear sirens coming."
As Don stuck his head out into the cold night air, he heard them as well — and it was several sirens, screaming out of sync with each other. He jumped down lightly onto the overhang and crouched down beside Leo, his heart racing as the sirens came ever closer. Surely nobody had seen them in the NICU — they had been so careful to be silent and unseen there. Yet he felt apprehension flutter inside him as Mikey and Raph landed beside him, crouching down in the shadows.
The ambulances came veering up the road and under the overhang, in a line of whirling red-and-blue lights. EMTs moved out of them and began opening doors, and Don could see bodies on stretchers being pulled from the backs of the vehicles. Blood-spattered bodies were lying on them, groaning and twitching feebly.
"There must have been some kind of major accident," Leo said grimlu.
The EMTs brought one of the stretchers closer to the overhang, and something about the person lying on the stretcher inspired Don to creep closer. A feeling of cold dread began to spread from deep inside him, as if he had swallowed an enormous chunk of ice. It was a man with a shaved head, his bloodstained denim vest embroidered with a large purple dragon. His face was so bruised and bloodied that it couldn't be seen clearly, but Don knew it. He would never forget it.
Suddenly all he could think of was that man, holding April tightly as Racer hurt him — thrust into him, over and over — whispered poisonous words in his ear — and then another memory, of April screaming and thrashing as Darts pried her legs apart —
"Darts," he whispered.
"What, Donnie?" Raph asked.
"Darts. That was — he was with Racer, in the cell," Don said, his voice wavering.
Raph's voice lowered into a growl, and Don heard the whisper of his sai being pulled from his belt. "He was, was he? Well, he's—"
"Stand down, Raph," Leo said sternly.
"No way. After what he did to Donnie, I'm gonna poke him fulla holes—" Raph snarled.
"I said stand down," Leo said, his eyes growing cold and hard as steel.
"You can take what you said and shove it up your—"
"Raph," Don said quietly. "Leo's right. We can't take the risk of anyone seeing us." He turned towards his red-masked brother, seeing that Raph was almost shaking with fury, his face locked in a snarl, his sai still clutched in his hands as if he didn't know what to do with them now. He had worked himself into a rage, Don knew, and it would be hard to get him out of it.
Quickly, Don placed his hands on his brother's shoulders, and gripped him tightly. "Thank you, Raph," he said quietly. "I really appreciate this, but we can't — not right now. We have to focus on getting these parts back to my lab."
The shaking began to subside, but the rage flickering in Raph's eyes didn't. He growled down at Darts as the Purple Dragon was wheeled into the hospital, as if he couldn't bear to let him get away.
"Are you guys noticing somethin' weird about these patients?" Mikey said, hanging his head over the side of the overhang.
"No, what?" Raph snapped.
"They're all Purple Dragons," Mikey said, crouching on the edge. "All of them. Look, that guy has a tattoo — that guy has it on his jacket — that guy there was one of the cage fighters when we rescued Casey —"
Don's eyes flickered down to the patients being wheeled in, and saw with growing discomfort that Mikey was right. Each one was a face he recognized from many run-ins with the Purple Dragons — just ordinary street thugs, with little to set them apart from each other. But they were all battered and bloodied, as if Hun had been casually knocking them around.
That raised some sobering questions, Don reflected. The Purple Dragons weren't the most powerful force in New York, but they weren't to be trifled with either. If some other gang was attacking them hard enough for several of them to be hospitalized, then a new player might be taking part in the city's underground power struggles. Or perhaps… perhaps since Darts was one of the victims, someone was cleaning house of the disloyal Dragons who had dared to act behind the back of their cruel leader.
Leo must have been thinking something similar, because he said, "We can't worry about that right now. We'll head home and consider our options there, while Don works on the ultrasound. Maybe something about the Dragons will be on the news."
Four shadows leaped down into the shrubbery that surrounded the hospital, darting away into the night. As Don ran, he glanced back up at the darkened windows above him, and thought of tiny, fragile lives sleeping in plastic boxes up in the hospital.
Maybe he would build an incubator. Just to be safe.