-Redemption-
Summary: Takes place during the 2007 CGI movie. Leo finds out who the Night Watcher is in a completely different way...
Disclaimer: I do not own the turtles. *Imagines what it would be like if I did and grins evilly*
A/n: A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Amonrapheonix for helping me out with this. Thank you for letting me pick your brains for ideas and for the great medical knowledge and input, and the time you have taken from your daily life to read over my work. Also a shout out to DarkUnderworld for helping.
Hope you guys like this long chapter and the story generally so far :)
~Normal POV~
It wasn't until the sun was going down in the sky the next day that April and Don finally emerged from the lab; ragged and drooping with exhaustion. April's hair was sticking out at odd angles, and falling messily onto her face, not even having enough energy to wipe the stray strands away. Her clothes were rumpled, her face drawn, pale, and dark circles rimmed her tired eyes. Donnie didn't look much better either. He looked as if he were dead on his feet, his bandana creased and hanging around his neck instead of over his tired, heavy eyes.
As soon as the others saw them, they all immediately leapt to their feet, despite their own exhaustion. None of them had been able to sleep either; not while their brother was screaming in pain in the next room.
"How is he?" Leo demanded anxiously, torn between brushing past Donnie and racing to Raphael's side, or staying behind to listen to his brother's prognoses.
Don sighed and rubbed his aching temples. He had a cramp in his hands, and he felt the sharp pull of the muscles in his neck and shoulders protesting with each movement. He tried to roll them to relieve some of the tension, but stopped after that failed to help.
"He's stable." Don answered softly to Leo's hanging question. "I've hooked him up to an IV, blood transfusion, and a ventilator plus a heart monitor, just to be on the safe side. He has a bad case of road-rash from where he skidded across the asphalt, as well as a nasty gash and concussion to his head. Thankfully, April was able to clean the wounds and disinfect them. There didn't appear to be any signs of infection and hopefully there won't be."
"That's good, right?' Mikey whispered hope beginning to show on his fearful face. "That there's no infection?"
"Yeah, Mikey, it's a good sign," Don attempted a smile that didn't quite reach his tired eyes.
"But?" Leo prodded, seeing the light fade from Don's eye, the small amount of hope wavering on Mikey's face at Leo's probing question.
Don sighed and rubbed his exhausted eyes, his head pounding. "For now he's in stable condition, which is good. If things go our way, he should be off the IV and blood drip within two weeks. But… his other injuries are more concerning.
"As well as receiving a bad bump to the head and a nasty case of road burn, Raph also broke a fair number of bones in the crash. His right arm is badly broken, and has sustained nerve, tissue and muscular damage. I've splintered it and he'll have to go through some physiotherapy to get it working properly again, but his arm should make a full recovery in time. He also has a broken left collar bone and a dislocated shoulder, which I was able to pop back into place. Five of his ribs are broken; three on the right side and two on the left side. His right orbital socket was cracked, both wrist and ankles were broken and he has a hairline fractured jaw. He also sustained a large crack through his carapace, dangerously close to the spinal column. I managed to repair it with epoxy and fibreglass until the shell can heal itself in time. But…his most concerning injury...is his right leg."
Leo swallowed, remembering the horrific image of Raphael's mangled right leg on the ride home. It had been bent at an unnatural angle, and so swollen and discoloured, that he couldn't tell where his thigh started and his calf ended.
"What about it?" Casey asked, breaking the tense silence that had momentarily fallen over them. Casey knew how bad Raph's leg was. After all, he had been there, holding him down while April had tried to set it. He had heard Raphael's agonizing screams first hand, and knew that it was bad, but he wasn't expecting Don's grim answer.
"Well…" Don said slowly, closing his eyes for a moment to collect himself before continuing. "His leg has sustained a great deal of damage, to his muscles and nerves, as well as tendons and ligaments. These injuries are bad enough on their own, but...his leg is broken in several places. My guess is he must have landed with all his weight on it at an incredible rate of speed. He has several fractures to his patella- his knee- and numerous fractures to his femur-his thigh. But…his tibia, the main bone in the calf… is completely shattered. We… April and I had to perform an extensive operation to pin his leg back together with steel-enforced metal pins, wire and plates, I luckily salvaged from an old medical supply run a few years back. We basically had to rebuild his tibia."
The others were deathly silent after Don had finished explaining Raphael's condition. Any and all hope that had previously been on Michelangelo's face, had vanished. His eyes were now hollow and bright with liquid horror, fear for his older brother burning hotly through him.
Casey sucked in a sharp breath, knowing that Raph's leg was bad, but not knowing it was that bad.
Leo's face had turned deathly pale green, and he swore his heart had stopped beating half way through Don's meticulous and grisly report. Swallowing down the lump of fear that had risen in his throat, he forced himself to ask the next dreaded question; the question that was on every one's mind. "Will he… will he be able to walk on it again?" He whispered roughly.
The others all looked at Don for an answer, their eyes pleading with the genius turtle, that there was some good news would come out of this horrifying mess.
Don tried to get some moisture back in his dry throat, swallowing painfully as all their pleading eyes fell on him, urging him, waiting for him to tell them that 'Yes, Raphael would be fine and would be running, jumping, and kicking before they knew it'. But he couldn't say that because he knew it was far more complicated than that, and he knew he couldn't lie to his brothers. He owed them the stark truth; especially after everything they'd been through last night.
"Honestly? I don't know," Don murmured sadly, unable to meet their hopeful gazes, so he turned his eyes to the floor instead. "The pins are going to have to stay in his leg for at least two months, and he'll be in a cast for even longer. He will have to go through some pretty intensive physiotherapy before he can even attempt to walk on it again."
"So at this stage you're saying, only time will tell?" Leo asked, fighting to keep his voice perfectly natural and calm.
"At this stage...yes," Don agreed slowly. "But for now, only Raphael will be able to decide if he will ever walk on it again."
Leo nodded and blinked back the hot tears that were threatening to escape. "Can I go and see him now?" He asked softly.
Don nodded an affirmative. "But if there's any change what-so-ever, call me in immediately."
Leo nodded in agreement and slowly made his way into Don's lab, where his brother was currently fighting to stay alive.
~Leonardo's POV~
I entered the dark room and quietly closed the door behind me. The room was silent except for the automatic beeping of the heart monitor and hiss of the ventilator Don had hooked up to Raphael. The air was thick with the coppery smell of stale blood, and the pungent, biting stench of disinfectant, and bleach. Which had been used to sterilize and disinfect the equipment both Donny and April had used during the operation.
Raphael was lying on the reclined chair/bed, a soft pillow tucked under his head, and a warm blanket draped over his limp body. Obviously Don had tried to make him as comfortable as possible; despite his current condition.
I slowly made my way over to the makeshift hospital bed, being careful not to trip on any of the wires and cords that haphazardly covered the ground, hooked up to the various machines, keeping my brother alive. April and Don must have lit a few candles after the operation to keep some soft light on in the room. Several tall candles burned on a small table next to Raph's bedside, hot wax running down the sides of the candles and hardening on the table's wooden surface.
It was then that I finally got a really good look at my brother, but secretly wished I hadn't.
Under the soft flickering glow of the candlelight Raph's skin looked waxy and pale, not at all its usual deep, rich emerald green hue. A large bandage was wrapped around his head, and the left side of his face was covered in gauze. His jaw was swollen and his one visible right eye was puffy and black. A thick bandage was wrapped around his chest, covering his collar bone and shoulder. Donnie had also wrapped his arm in a thick swath of bandages.
Sitting heavily on the seat, which was pulled up beside his bed, I slowly and carefully slid the blanket down, revealing more of my brother's bruised and broken body. Clean white bandages were wrapped around his ribs, and an IV was hooked up into the inside of his arm. Small plug-like things were placed on Raphael's chest, which were then hooked up to the heart monitor. The pulsing green line that travelled slowly across the screen reassured me that Raphael was still fighting to stay with us.
A ventilator tube had been shoved down his throat before being strapped into place over his mouth to help push oxygen into his bruised lungs. The sight of my brother, of my dear, strong, stubborn warrior of a brother, hooked up to so many machines, and covered in white bandages, made my breath hitch, and my heart sink heavily into my gut. Bracing myself for what was to come, I slowly pulled the blanket the rest of the way off, revealing Raphael's legs; and wished I hadn't.
His injured right leg was something that looked like it belonged in a medical soap opera, not in real life, and not on my younger brother. His leg was tightly bandaged with layers upon layers of gauze, tape and stretchy bandages wrapped securely around it. But even under all the layers, I could still make out the lumpy, misshapen leg. I felt bile rise into my mouth at the sight; because as bad as the sight of the misshapen leg was, the sight of the bumps which could only be the pins pushing up from under my brother's skin, and through the bandages; was worse, because I knew they were the only thing now holding Raph's leg together.
My eyes drifted and focused on the makeshift metal splint that April and Donnie had managed to construct, that wrapped all the way around his lower leg, holding it perfectly still and straight.
I couldn't look at it any more, not without getting light headed and queasy. I gently pulled the blanket back up and around my brother's neck, tucking it around him and stroking the right side of his face gently; He didn't even stir once.
It was at this moment when the guilt and the horror of everything that had happened finally sank in; and I couldn't take it anymore. My already broken heart shattered, I held my head in my hands, and sobbed; I sobbed out awful gut-wrenching sobs that hurt my chest and stole my breath away, because I knew that it should have been me lying there like that; not my younger brother.
~Mikey's POV~
Leo didn't say anything when he reappeared an hour later from Don's lab. Instead, he brushed straight past everyone and disappeared into his room, closing the door firmly behind him.
"Should... should someone go talk to him?" Casey ventured tentatively from where he was sitting anxiously on the couch.
"I don't think he wants company," Don replied softly, stifling a yawn and taking another sip of his strong, black coffee.
"Can...Can I go see Raphie now?" I asked softly, my voice shaking slightly. I slowly got to my feet and implored Donnie with my eyes, begging him to let me see my older brother.
"Sure, Mikey." Don replied softly, motioning with his coffee cup towards the lab door. "Just..." he hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. "Never mind. Just come and get me if his vitals change in any way or something starts beeping."
Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded and walked into Don's lab, closing the door gently behind me. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the weak light of the shadowy room.
I swallowed down the lump that had formed in my throat, and with cautious steps, I slowly advanced towards the middle of the room where Raphael lay, sickly pale and motionless, save for the miniscule movement of his chest rising and falling with each laboured, and forced breath of the ventilator. I carefully picked my way over the various cords that trailed along the floor and connected my brother to the machines that were keeping him alive.
Slowly I lowered myself into the chair that had been left at Raph's bedside; I finally exhaled the pent up breath I had stuck in my chest. Raphael looked far worse than I could ever have imagined. Bandages and gauze covered at least 80% of his body, if not more; and the 20% that was left uncovered, was dotted with mottled black and dark green bruises. A tube was shoved down his throat, was taped across his mouth, holding it in place as desperately needed oxygen was pushed into Raph's bruised and injured lungs. Some black cords were attached to Raph's chest, which were connected to a crudely constructed heart monitor. I stared at the thin, moving green line, shocked at how slow each rising movement was; that something so frail and weak looking could represent Raph's fiery life force. What would happen if it stopped moving? I wondered grimly.
No, don't think that! I snapped at myself horrified that the thought had even popped into my head. I dragged my eyes away from the IVs, the heart monitor, and the cords, not wanting to think that they were the only things standing between my brother and death.
Raph will make it. He's strong and stubborn; he's not going to die. I said to myself firmly, wanting to believe each and every word.
But looking at Raphie now, my strong, hot-headed brother, it didn't look like he would even make it through the rest of the night.
Seeing Raph this way made my heart twist painfully in my chest, and my stomach churn sickeningly in my gut. This wasn't how Raph should look. Raph was one of my big brothers. He was determined, headstrong and too damn obstinate to know when to quit or give up. He could take any hit that came his way, and walk away without a scratch. And even if he did manage to get hurt, he would barely flinch, even if he was in serious pain.
My older brother is the one who protected us from harm, who kept us safe and watched our backs. Raph was the one who could be backed up against the wall, with two dozen attackers trying to take him out, and still manage to take them all down instead. And I knew Raph wasn't perfect. He got angry sometimes, and yelled and pretended not to care about anything or anyone, but he always made room for me in his hammock when I had a nightmare. He would wrap his arms around me whenever I got scared, and would whisper that everything was going to be alright. And I would believe him, because I knew he would protect me and keep me safe, no matter what.
Sure he would growl at me when I pulled pranks on him, and would pin me down on the ground until I said 'uncle.' Or slap the back of my head if I said or did something foolish. But I always knew that no matter what, he would be there for me.
That was who Raph was, not this frail broken creature that looked like he would shatter like delicate glass at the slightest, most gentle of touches. This pale, sweaty, ghost was not my brother. It couldn't be.
I carefully grabbed his bandaged hand in my own and held it gently. It was warm, clammy and frail feeling. I wanted to squeeze his hand, to reassure him-even if he couldn't feel my hand in his- and that everything was going to be alright; no matter which path he chose to follow. But I couldn't, not without hurting him.
What I could see of his face, was moulted with bruises, his expression blank and oddly peaceful. His body was stiff, like his bones had been turned into steel rods.
I glanced down at the soft blanket that was covering my brother's leg and paled. The blanket was so carefully placed, laid out and put down with so much care that I instantly knew Leo had done it. Which meant he had seen Raph's leg.
The thought of Raph's leg made bile rise up in my throat and my stomach to clench painfully. I quickly turned around so that I had my shell to the shattered limb. I couldn't look at it. I... I couldn't, not without being violently sick.
My tongue felt like a piece of lead in my suddenly to dry mouth. I tried to swallow down the lump that seemed to be permanently lodged in my throat, and failed. Gripping Raph's hand a little tighter, I tried to force away the tears that stung my eyes.
"I've never told anyone this," I whispered, a tear managing to slide free and roll down my cheek and falling onto Raph's pillow. "But... I've always admired the Night Watcher. Seeing him... seeing you on the TV like that, saving the city every night... It's like you're a superhero. No, scratch that, you are a superhero. You save people and don't expect any praise or gratitude in return. You have an awesome bike, a really cool name and even a costume!" I gushed.
"And... Raph, the Night Watcher was my idol, was, and still is, my hero. I mean, you did something you didn't have to do; something the rest of us stopped doing, not because you wanted to, but because it's in your blood. You may not believe it, Raph, but even as just plain, old regular Raph, you've always been my hero. You protect me, us, and nothing ever seems to scare you. So you have to promise me...promise me, Raph, that you're going to hold on and fight. Because I need my hero again," I said in a broken whisper, tears blurring my vision and rolling freely down my cheeks.
I forced myself to take a deep, slow breath. I was not going to break down, not here, not like this, and not in front of Raph.
"Hold on, bro...Just keep holding on, Night Watcher." I murmured quietly, a small ghost of a smile crossed my lips.
I don't know if it was the dim lighting, my imagination, or if I just conjured it up out of the need to believe that Raph could hear me, but I swore I saw Raph's mouth twitch into a smile.
~April's POV~
The lair was unusually quiet and eerily still whenever I came down here. I could always hear the boys moving about. I could always hear Mikey laughing at something he'd be watching on TV; which is more often than not, was turned up as high as it would go; without blowing the speakers or attracting the Foot somehow. I could always hear Donnie fidgeting in his lab, clanging bits of metal together, dropping heavy things on the floor, and occasionally, a small explosion from his lab could also be heard. I could always hear Raphael and Leo sparring in the dojo, the sounds of their barely reigned in punches echoing throughout the lair.
But I can't hear any of that tonight. It's just past six in the evening and I haven't slept for over twenty four hours. I only just helped Don finish Raphael's operation two hours ago, and all I want to do is have a hot shower and sleep for a week. But I know I can't sleep, not yet. Everyone is too stressed, too worried and anxious for me to just take a cat-nap on them. Leo was still sitting with Raphael, even though Donnie said that he probably wouldn't wake up for a few days and that was if we were lucky; once Donnie stopped giving Raph the medicine that was keeping him in his coma, that is.
Mikey's been helping Don in the garage. They just got back in a few minutes ago, having gone back out to the highway where Raphael had been involved in his horrifying, and brutal accident. They had tried to clean up all of the evidence of the crash that had been left behind. Don said something about cleaning the strip of road where there had been a line of Raphael's dried blood smeared across the asphalt, along with bits of scraped flesh. He had said they had found his bike and brought it back to the garage. But from the sound of Don's voice, I didn't want to see what was left of it.
Casey has been spending most of his time with Master Splinter, which was strange, but I think Master Splinter is teaching him how to meditate. He's been so full of rage, worry and anguish since he saw the news bulletin report. He had, after all, known that the Night Watcher had been Raphael all along.
And even though I was almost dead on my feet, and fighting to keep my eyes open, in spite of the large amount of coffee I had consumed; I knew I probably wouldn't be able to sleep. Not with the nightmares that were bound to haunt me. So, I set myself up with the simple task of making dinner for the night.
I stared absently at the stew boiling in the pot over the stove, my mind not set upon the task. No matter how hard I tried to forget, or push it away, thoughts of last night kept re-playing themselves in my head; distracting me from the present and throwing me unwillingly back into the past.
I remembered the way my heart was beating wildly against my ribcage, as Casey and I frantically searched throughout the cold night for any signs of Raphael. I remembered the way my heart lurched in my chest when I found him leaning against the rough bark of a tree; his body battered, broken and lifeless. It hadn't been until I had crouched down by his side, and felt the faint pulse beating beneath my shaking fingertips that I was able to breathe again.
I remembered the long hike back to where we had parked the car; the cold fear racing through my body, and the shock that had numbed my mind. The scramble in placing Raphael in the back seat, and realizing that the car was out of fuel. I could feel my blood freeze with horror when we cut Raph out of his suit and saw his bloodied and broken body, truly for the first time. I could hear Donnie's firm voice, telling me that I had to set his broken leg.
Even now I can still hear Raphael's anguished screams of pain, echoing around in my head, so loud, so clear, so blood curdling that I swear I am standing right next to him performing my gruesome task all over again.
The smell of something burning snapped me out of my troubled thoughts. A copious amount of thick, coiling, grey smoke was wafting up from the stew, which was now thick, black and burnt to the bottom of the pot. The smoke curled into my lungs, making me cough harshly as I tried to bat the smoke away. The smoke must have triggered the smoke alarm because suddenly the room was suddenly filled with a high pitched wail.
A sudden gentle hand on my shoulder makes me jump, wooden spoon clutched in my hand like a bat; not a very impressive weapon, but a weapon nonetheless.
"Oh, Master Splinter," I gasp in embarrassment, lowering the spoon quickly. "You scared me."
"I apologize, Miss O'Neil," Master Splinter rasped, the sound of the smoke alarm growing fainter before stopping completely.
I looked back over my shoulder at charred mess that had been our intended dinner. "I... I'm sorry," I stammered, dropping the spoon and rubbing my aching temples. "I got distracted. I didn't realize it was burning." I apologized softly.
"It is not your fault, Miss O'Neil," Master Splinter said kindly. "It has been a long day, and an even longer evening."
"I... I was thinking about Raph." I admitted, my voice suddenly shaking so much that I was stammering. I tried to fight back the familiar lump that had risen up into my throat. "About what happened and..."
"Come, sit," Master Splinter spoke up interrupting my hastily mumbled words. He gestured to the kitchen table.
I nodded and walked over to the table, slumping down into the seat. It felt so good to sit down, even on the hard wooden chair. I realized how little energy I had, and realized that I hadn't eaten anything in at least twelve hours, though it could have been more, I wasn't sure anymore. Time has ceased to have any meaning only that it had passed.
Master Splinter rested a furry paw gently over my pale hand, giving me a soft encouraging smile. "I know you are worried, Miss O'Neil, and I thank you and Casey both for doing what you did in bringing my son home to me. I know that it must have been very hard for the both of you."
I nodded, not trusting my voice at that moment.
"I believe that Raphael will be fine," Master Splinter went on. "He is strong and stubborn; he will not give in that easily, Miss O'Neil. Besides, he has you and Donatello around if things get worse."
"I'm not a doctor, Master Splinter," I said blushing slightly at the implication that I had been more than just another set of hands for Donnie.
"Perhaps not, but you have helped my son in more ways than one over the past twenty four hours," Master Splinter murmured quietly before straightening up and looking at me with his wise, old eyes. "Raphael's body is not the only thing that needs healing. His mind and spirit need time to heal as well, Miss O'Neil, but he will heal, in his own time."
"Thank you, Master Splinter," I whispered, even though I couldn't help thinking that Raphael, as strong and stubborn as he was, even he might be unable to pull through; not this time.
Looking deeply into Master Splinter's dark, weary eyes, I could see that even he did not quite believe his own words; but more hoped that they were true.
A/n: More to come soon folks, it ain't over yet, not by a long shot ;)
Feel free to leave a review; I'd love to know what you thought!
The sky's the limit,
~Cat