A/n: Sorry for any confusion guys, but I accidentally uploaded chapter 17 thinking that my two amazing Betas, Amonrapheonix and DarkUnderworld had beted for me. So sorry guys! And sorry it's taken me so long to replace this chapter with the edited one; I've been so busy and so sick! Apologies again.
~Normal POV~
Donatello didn't even feel the paper flutter to the floor. His legs shook and they nearly collapsed underneath him. His horrified mind vaguely acknowledged that he had -by some small miracle- given his brother the correct antibiotics, but that seemed to be an extremely small almost insignificant victory, because his brother had begun to bleed.
Blood began to slowly run down Raphael's face, from his nostrils his ears and even his eyes. "No," Donatello said shaking his head in denial. "No!" he shouted as he rushed over to Raphael's side, pushing his frightened, horrified and confused family members aside.
"April!" Donatello shouted trying to reign in his panic as Raphael began to convulse. "He's seizing." He shouted feeling the blood drain from his face as he looked at his older brother in terror. "Leo, lay him flat and hold him down lightly, just enough to stop him from hurting himself." He looked desperately at April. Donatello blinked back the tears that threatened to fall.
"Donny?" April asked gently, her voice quavering with emotion.
"I gave him the correct antibiotics," he told his family quickly. "But he's having a seizure and where he's bleeding, he could be suffering from an aneurysm. A blood vessel in his brain was probably damaged during the accident, and it is only presenting itself now. It...it must of burst and the only way to treat it, is to open his skull and operate."
Absolute silence greeted his pronouncement, but Donatello didn't have time to try to reassure his family that he would be able to save Raphael's life, because if he didn't move as quickly as he could, his brother was going to die.
Everyone stated talking at once; panic filling the room with sobs and cries of denial.
"Please!" Donatello could only manage to get this one word out, a few stray tears running down his cheeks as he motioned for everyone to get moving.
Donatello choked back a sob as Leo continued to hold Raphael's thrashing body as still as he could. April had begun scrubbing herself down, while Master Splinter ushered everyone else from the room.
Casey looked utterly shocked; Michelangelo looked like a kicked puppy; and Master Splinter looked grim, but resigned. Donatello knew that their father would hang onto hope that his son would survive, but it was as if even he was stretched too thin, too tired of trying to hold onto hope to even grasp at the last thread that had been offered.
Donatello took a deep steadying breath as Leonardo pulled himself away from Raphael, whose body had stopped thrashing.
"Leo, I need your help." Donatello's voice came out shaky and raspy.
"Donny?" Leonardo asked, his voice filled with fear and worry.
"He'll die if I don't operate, Leo, but even then his chances aren't very good. He may recover, I might damage his brain further, or he may just die on my operating table, or a few hours later. I just don't know, Leo. All I know is that if I don't perform this surgery, he'll die right now."
Leonardo nodded, stepping back. "What do you want me to do?" He asked softly.
"Blood." Donatello stated firmly. "He's going to need lots of blood. I also need someone other than me and April to keep an eye on Raphael's vitals, make sure he keeps breathing, and his heart is still beating. I know I have the monitors, but I need to focus and April needs to help me, so I may not be able to hear them and I can't constantly look at them, so I need you to do that for me."
Leonardo nodded slowly as Donatello rushed around the room gathering up all of the medical supplies he would need as he shouted at April the correct dosage of anesthetic to give Raphael.
Donatello scrubbed up with his antimicrobial soap and slipped on a pair of operating gloves. His hands shook as he walked quickly back to Raphael's side. Raphael's mask had been removed. "His vitals look good, if anything starts dropping, yell."
Donatello knew he had to perform a cerebral angiogram to locate the aneurysm before he would be able to operate on Raphael's brain.
"Leo, wheel that machine over to me." Donatello said motioning with his beak at an imaging machine that would allow Donatello to see the small flexible catheter he was going to thread through Raphael's femoral artery, past his heart and into his brain, where he would inject a dye which would show him exactly where the aneurysm was located.
Donatello made a small incision in Raphael's leg and into the artery. Inserting the tubing he plugged slowly began threading in through his brother's body, finally injecting the dye into his brother's brain. He removed the catheter and stitched up the artery and his brother's leg as he slowly watched the dye work its way through the blood spider web network of cranial blood vessels.
One blood vessel bloomed and Donatello realized he had found the location of the aneurism, nestled in his left parietal lobe, very close to the temporal lobe.
Donatello got Leonardo to move the imaging machine out of the way as he picked up a scalpel. He carefully sliced into the flesh and skin covering his brother's skull over the place where the aneurism was and peeled back the epidermis, exposing glistering white bone underneath. Next he picked up the small electric bone cutter with a spinning blade.
He turned on the switch the blade starting to whir, making a high pitch whine. Leonardo went three shades paler, his skin turning a ghastly grey-green colour, but Donatello had no time to make sure his oldest brother could hold it together. Each and every second he wasted only increased the chances of Raphael having brain damage, or just simply dying.
Donatello slowly edged the blade closer to his brother's scalp. The blade bit easily cut through the tough bone. He had to be ever so careful that he didn't go too far and cut into Raphael's brain. Donatello cut a sizeable hole in Raphael's head, removing the chunk of his skull and taking up a scalpel, carefully cutting through the membrane that surrounded the tissue of the brain.
Blood bubbled up and out releasing the blood and lessening the pressure that was being exacted upon Raphael's brain. Donatello cleared away some of the blood and was able to identify the aneurysm.
"Donny!" Leonardo's panicked voice managed to pierce through his intense concentration.
Donatello quickly glanced up at Raphael's vitals, which were dipping slightly but still stable. Donatello nodded letting Leonardo know that Raphael was okay and to keep monitoring him.
"April, clip," he said as he held out his hand pointing to a small titanium clip that looked much like a piece of coiled wire. He would use to cut off the blood supply to the aneurism. He then planned on harvesting a bypass graft -a small thoracic blood vessel- to repair damage to the blood vessel that had the aneurysm.
Donatello worked steadily each minute that passed felt another nail in Raphael's coffin. He was moving as quickly as he could, but acknowledging that if he moved too quickly, he could slip and damage Raphael's brain. Donatello would never be able to forgive himself if he managed to save Raphael's life, but gave him brain damage in return.
Donatello wiped a shaky hand across his forehead as he placed the final stitch in Raphael's scalp. He had managed to repair the damage and place the piece of skull cut from Raphael's head back in place using screws and small metal plates to hold it in position.
Donatello pulled the gloves from his hands and watched the slow steady beat of Raphael's heart on the heart monitor. There had been a few dips in blood pressure and his heart rate, but overall Raphael had managed to make it through the surgery without too much trouble.
Of course, he knew that Raphael wasn't out of the woods yet, not by a long shot; in fact Raphael's chances of recovery were so low at the moment that he hadn't even been brave enough to tell his family the news.
Donatello walked over to the sink to wash up, letting April begin the arduous task of cleaning and sterilizing all of his medical equipment. Donatello wanted to fall into bed and preferably sleep for a week, but he knew he would be lucky to snatch a few hours of sleep within the next twenty-four hours.
He managed to gather his family and their friends together in the living room. This was of course an easy task since everyone who was waiting for the surgery to be finished, had spent the past four hours sitting in the living room. No one wanted to move in case something happened.
Donatello looked into the worried faces of his friends and family. He had already performed this action more over the past two weeks than he would have ever thought he would do in his entire life-time. Constantly giving his family horrible, grim, depressing news was beginning to weigh heavily upon him.
Donatello cleared his throat slightly, not to silence anyone for the room was painfully quiet, all of the occupants waiting with fearful patience for Donatello to deliver his news.
Donatello swallowed and then began to speak. "I was able to isolate the aneurysm and repair the blood vessel, but..." Donatello took a deep breath. "All we can do is wait. This type of surgery has risks of causing permanent brain damage and even death. I want all of you to be prepared. It is possible that when Raph wakes up, he might not know who we are, or where his is. He may not be able to speak or even walk..." Donatello's voice trailed off into the worried, grim silence that filled the room. The hushed, bleak quiet was suffocating.
April pulled herself away from where she had been encircled in Casey's arms. She walked over to Donatello and pulled him into a tight embrace. "Raph will be okay, Donny," she whispered to him comfortingly. "You did everything you could, now it's all up to him," she finished softly in a soothing voice.
Donatello nodded glumly, knowing that April's words were painfully accurate.
It had been a little over a month and Casey felt as if he was giving up on his friend. The problem was that he couldn't help it. They had been waiting patiently, knowing that Donatello had tried to wake Raphael up from his induced coma a week ago, but he hadn't woken. Donatello did not seem overly surprised by this turn of events. Donatello had informed them that Raphael had probably slipped into an actual coma, and that he would be unable to wake him up and that they would just have to wait. Unfortunately Casey was tired of waiting. He had been practically living at the lair since Raphael's accident and although he had no complaints, he just wanted to see his friend open his eyes, grin, and tell him he was going to be fine.
Instead, each and every day when Casey visited, he saw his friend getting thinner and thinner. Donatello had placed a feeding tube through Raphael's nostril and down his throat.
"Come on, Raph," Casey whispered softly. "Open your eyes damn it! I'm tired of looking at your sickly mug," Casey told him fiercely. Casey reached out and took Raphael's bony hand in his own. The hand that was now clutched in his own felt so frail and thin, not at all like the strong, firm hand he was used to seeing.
"Com'on, Bro, please. Hell, I'll take you just openin' your eyes, or twitching at this point. Anything!" Casey watched his friend who didn't respond to his desperate pleas.
Casey sighed, shoulders slumping and stood. He let go of Raphael's hand laying it back carefully on the cot.
Casey walked to the door. He stopped and looked over his shoulder one last time before leaving. He needed to get out of the lair, maybe out of the city for a bit. He couldn't take it anymore. He was going stir crazy and he felt so useless and powerless to help Raphael in any way.
Casey looked into Raphael's slightly parted amber eyes. Casey blinked in surprise. "Raph?" He questioned as his friends eyes slid closed again.
Casey turned and walked back to Raphael sitting down on the chair that had been pulled up next to Raphael's bedside. "Did you just open your eyes, Bro?" Casey asked him softly. Raphael made no movement and didn't acknowledge him again.
Casey sighed tiredly. He knew he should feel disappointed, but instead he felt hope soar within him. Raphael had opened his eyes.
"Come on Raph," Casey pleaded. "I miss going out and bustin' heads, watchin' baseball and hockey. Hell, I even miss fightin' with ya, you bonehead." Casey said gently.
Casey waited a few moments and hung his head in dejection.
"Don't be going all soft on me now, Case," a weak, raspy voice whispered wearily.
Casey's eyes snapped open as he stared in shocked disbelief as Raphael's eyes cracked open slightly, a sliver of burning amber as his mouth quipped up into a weak smile.
"Raph...you're awake," Casey whispered in disbelief, not entirely sure if he was merely dreaming this, and afraid that if this truly was a dream, it would end all too soon.
"Yeah," Raph replied weakly, his voice raw, hoarse and barely above a whisper.
Casey moved so quickly that Raphael hadn't even seen him move. One minute his friend was staring in shock above him, the next he had his strong arms wrapped around him, hugging him tightly.
"Case...ribs," Raph choked out, becoming increasingly annoyed at something that felt as if it was shoved up through his nose and down his throat.
"Oh, right, sorry," Casey said, letting go of Raphael hastily. A big grin slowly spread over his features and he felt more awake than he had in days. Raphael was finally awake, and though Casey knew he still had a long way to go, a feeling of relief so momentous crashed over him, leaving his tired and exhausted body buzzing with energy.
"Guys, come quick! Raph's finally awake!" Casey shouted loudly, not daring to take his eyes off of Raph for a second. Casey knew that Raph wasn't out of the woods yet, but he was damn near close.
~Normal POV~
A few weeks had gone by and ever so slowly, Raphael was starting to recover. The IVs, feeding tube and heart monitor had been taken off him a few days ago, and he was now able to eat small portions of food by himself and keep it down. The bruises that marred his skin had long since faded, and his broken bones were almost healed; that is, apart from his leg, which was still wrapped heavily in bandages and splintered.
The overwhelming relief that had hit everyone after hearing that Raphael was awake was starting to dim. After their initial shock and delight, Don had run a full set of medical tests and told them that Raph was doing very well, but still had a long way to go.
Don kept him heavily medicated with pain relievers, even though it didn't take his pain away completely, as was evident by his sweaty skin, clenched teeth and strained grimace. At night Don liked to sedate him, so that he would actually sleep. Raphael didn't like needles, sedatives or any kind of drugs, but after being in overwhelming pain for twenty minutes, he had reluctantly agreed to the drugs Donatello offered. But as the weeks went by, Don found he was able to slowly start to lower the amount of pain relievers he was administering to his brother.
It had been just over two weeks now since Raphael had woken from his coma, and Raphael was becoming increasingly agitated. If there was one thing the red-banded turtle hated more than drugs while being injured, was the fact that he couldn't do anything but lie in bed and stare at the same things day in and day out.
"Don, I've been in this bed fer' almost two months now, can't ya' just let me get up already?"
Don looked up from where he was carefully re-wrapping the bandages around Raph's bad leg, his chocolate brown eyes narrowing at his older brother.
"Raph, of those two months most of that time you spent in a coma," Donatello pointed out in exasperation. "And believe it or not, you aren't well enough to be up and walking around yet."
Raphael's right arm was still bandaged and supported in a tight sling. The bandages around his shoulder and collar bone had been removed, as well as the bandages from his face. His jaw was still a little sore and stiff, but it was, for the most part, better. The sever road rash that covered most of Raph's body was gone, and his ribs were still bandaged as was his broken hand and wrist. And of course, his bad leg was still heavily wrapped, pinned and splintered.
"I feel fine, Donnie," Raph grumbled, rolling his eyes at his brother. "I just want to stretch. My butt's so numb I can't even feel it anymore."
Don sighed and fixed his brother with a heated glare. "Raph, I don't think you know how hard these past two months have been on us. Do you know what it felt like for us after hearing the news report about the crash, and then hearing from a distraught April and Casey that the Night Watcher was you? They said the Night Watcher was dead, but that they couldn't find the body, and eventually gave up the search. The only reason they didn't find you was because we managed to find you first. You can't even begin to imagine the worry we felt when we saw what was left of your bike, and you were still missing somewhere in the woods, dying.
"Can you even understand the fear and terror we felt when April called us saying that she found you? Do you know how it felt when I had to listen through the phone as you screamed in agony as April tried to reset your leg? And you died, Raphael! Do you understand? YOU DIED! You're just lucky Casey and April knew how to administer CPR and were lucky enough to get you breathing again!" Donatello snarled angrily, his eyes narrowing dangerously.
Raphael flinched at the look and hung his head in shame."I'm sorry Donnie-"
"And that's not all!" Don snapped, eyes blazing with barely concealed emotions. Emotions he had hidden away from his family and kept to himself; emotions he hadn't wanted any of them to see. "Do you have any idea what it felt like, having to re-set and operate on your own brother's leg? To hook him up to a heart monitor and tell the rest of his brothers that you were probably going to die? You got an infection and nearly died. You suffered a seizure and a brain aneurysm. I had to open your head up and operate on your brain, Raphael. I was so scared that you were going to die on the table, and that when, hell, if you woke up, you were going to have brain damage. So let me tell you something, Raph, that was most horrific experience of my life! So when I say you're not well enough to be moving around, you had better just take my word for it and not argue!"
"I'm sorry, Donnie," Raph responded quietly, his head bowed as he stared down at his hands. "I...I never meant to cause so much trouble...to put you guys through this," He mumbled miserably.
Don's eyes softened as he rested a comforting hand on Raph's good knee. "It's not your fault, Raph. Donatello said gently as he took a deep breath. "I shouldn't have snapped at you. I'm just...tired, that's all."
"Thank you though, fer' you know...fixing me," Raphael mumbled again.
"Raph," Don said gently, tilting Raph's chin up so he was forced to meet his soft gaze.
"You're my brother; I wasn't just going to let you die." Donnie said gently.
"Maybe you should of," Raph whispered so quietly Don almost didn't hear him. "It would have saved yer' all a lot of trouble."
Don opened his mouth in shock and swallowed the lump that had risen up in his throat. Choosing to ignore the comment, he turned his attention back to wrapping Raph's leg. "You know you're going to have to tell us sometime, right? About what happened that night?"
Don watched as Raph gritted in his teeth and turned his heated gaze away, glaring at the opposite wall.
Don sighed quietly and finished wrapping the bandage around Raphael's leg. He had created a serum to inject into Raphael's leg to keep most of the limb completely numb after discovering that normal pain killers didn't do anything to dispel the agonizing pain of the shattered limb. Besides, it allowed him to frequently clean and wrap the wound without Raphael howling in anguish.
"How about this," Don said, making Raphael turn his head to look at his brother again.
"As long as you don't move your arm and keep your leg completely still, I'll help you out to the living room, but you will only be lying on the couch, that's it."
"Okay, Donnie," Raph agreed readily, please to be out of the stifling and confining bed.
Don nodded and walked over to the wall where a wheelchair had been placed. Raphael grimaced wanting to argue about being stuffed into a wheelchair, but he decided not to press his luck and kept his beak shut. Donatello wheeled the wheelchair to his side. Raphael wrapped his good arm around his shoulders, Don helped him ever so slowly into the wheelchair, supporting most of Raph's weight.
Raph hissed and scrunched his face up in pain as he settled into the seat. His still healing ribs aching in protest as his arms and legs began to throb.
"Are you okay?" Don asked in concern, prepared to lift him back into the bed.
"I'm fine," Raph growled out from behind clenched teeth. "Let's go."
Don silently cursed his stubborn brother, and slowly began to wheel his brother into the living room.
"Raph? What on earth are you doing?!" Leo exclaimed as he saw Don helping maneuver Raphael into the living room. Leaping to his feet he ran over to his brother's side, sending a questioning glare to Don.
"Relax, Fearless, m' just going ta' tha' couch," Raphael grumbled, teeth still clenched tightly in pain.
"Don, what-" Leo started to lecture.
"I said he could come rest on the couch for a bit, Leo," Don said, meeting his eldest brother's glare with his own.
Leo gritted his teeth but said nothing as Don wheeled Raph over to the couch. With the help of Donatello and Leonardo, Rapahel was moved from the wheelchair to the couch. Raphael sank gratefully onto the couch cushions, small droplets of sweat coating his brow. Don moved quickly and gently put a large pillow under Raph's bad leg and behind his head as he lay down.
"Thanks, Donnie," Raph mumbled, squeezing his brother's arm quickly before letting his hand flop onto his plastron.
"No problem, Raph," Donnie whispered, giving his brother's hand a quick squeeze before going to clean up in his lab.
Raphael sighed and leaned back against the sofa, his chest heaving with the effort to breathe. He had only moved from the bed to the couch and he was exhausted. But at least, he thought with grim satisfaction to himself, a sly smirk pulling the edges of his mouth up; it's a start.