Author's Note: Wow so… quite a sabbatical, huh? Bet you thought I was gone! Life was crazy, but things are slowing down a bit, and will get quieter in the fall. This is a longer chapter, and another is in the works. Thanks so much for your patience! I promise I will try to write more frequently, but I've said that before ;)
Also, thanks for commenting! I didn't realize until it popped up in my email that I had so many people read my story, and actually enjoy it enough to follow! THANK YOU THANK YOU!
Lastly! I am just putting my inspiration music at the top of the chapters, and will no longer include lyrics (I don't think I'm supposed to). I encourage you to check out the songs/artists!
Ch. 6 Cocoa Hooves (Glass animals)
June rushed into the ICU, brushing past nurses who tried to stop her. Wild brown hair topped her head, looking more like a bird's nest than a bun now. She paused in the door, looking at Johanna's small frame attached to six or more machines and felt her heart sink.
"Jo," she breathed, and rushed in, ignoring the pretty red-head sitting by her bed.
June felt the knot in her throat growing, but refused to sob when there was still hope. There had to be something—anything they could do.
"June," April said, standing up. "She's stable."
"Is she going to be okay?" June whispered, taking the little hand in hers.
April was quiet for a minute.
"What is it?" June said, turning to April.
"The doctor couldn't tell me much," she said. "Even though I'm approved I'm not family. She… it's—"
April wiped the tears away. She was dreading the conversation with Donatello, but this was much worse.
"She has all the symptoms of stage four lung cancer," she said finally, and June sat abruptly in the chair behind her.
April looked at the young, rounded face and her heart broke. June suddenly looked a million years old, her mascara smeared slightly under her eyes. She'd come straight from work—hadn't bothered to remove her apron or wash the flour from her arms. Blueberries stained the white shirt, which was now covered with sweat and tears from her jog.
"But they don't know for sure," June said slowly, a light of hope smoldering in her eyes.
April gave her a sympathetic look, and June leaned forward, holding her head in her hands. Tears splashed on the floor, making tiny drip noises among the beeping machines.
"She's all I have left," she said, and April couldn't stop the wave of sympathetic tears that flowed down her cheeks."I've lost everyone else."
June looked at the frail woman in the bed, hardly recognizing her. There were so many tubes, so many monitors and a breathing apparatus. It reminded her of the last time they saw their father, when the warmth left his fingers. She thought of their parents' funeral, the strength of her sister when she had none of her own.
'June bug don't worry… I'll always be here… I'll take care of you.' Johanna said.
Now that chunk was bigger, leaving an empty void that made her heart stammer.
"Was she alone?" June asked, picturing the bloody, awful agony that must have unfolded.
"No," April said, touching Johanna's hand. "She was with Don."
"Her boyfriend?" June said, not bothering to wipe the tears away.
"Yeah, he—they were together at your parent's house. It was supposed to be a sort of weekend getaway."
"Where is he now?" she asked, looking toward the hall.
"He had to go home and get cleaned up," April lied, thinking about the turtle waiting in the van. "He was able to call 911 and keep her stable until they arrived. He saved her life."
June nodded, her gray irises glowing inside the red rimmed eyes.
"I don't know what to do," June said. "I was never good with these things—Jo was the smart one, you know? I…"
June swallowed hard. "I'll just—I'll stay here until they kick me out."
"It won't be much longer," April said. "It took a lot for me to convince them to let you in after hours."
"I don't want to leave her."
"It's the ICU," April said. "They're much stricter about visitors. It's for Johanna's health—the nurses are very good here."
June nodded as a nurse came to the door, giving her a sympathetic look but pointing at the clock.
"We have to go," April said, and wrapped an arm around June's shoulders.
June gave Johanna a careful hug.
"You made a promise, Jo," she whispered. "Come back… please."
April looked away. It was too damn sad to see the raw emotion on June's face.
"Let me give you a ride home," April said, steering June to the door.
June nodded numbly, feeling as if her whole body was made of pudding. She climbed into the front of the van, noting the closed off back but thinking little of it. She probably hauled antiques in it now, rather than news equipment.
"Do you need me to call anyone for your business, or…?"
"No… I was just closing up when I got the call. I'll close the shop tomorrow but I still have a bread order for a wedding in the afternoon."
June's voice was hollow, and it worried April immensely.
"Jo said she was working with Don on something," June said, biting her nail.
"I suppose," April said cautiously. She wasn't sure how much June knew, but it was already more than April originally thought. "Tell him I need to see him right away."
"I don't know if that's possible," April said.
"It needs to be," June said, setting her jaw in a stubborn line. "I think someone's going to hurt Jo—if they haven't already."
"June, this was a fluke—"
"No," June said, sitting up in her seat. "I love my sister, but she doesn't know when to quit. If past judgments are any indication, she's done it again. I have to talk to Don."
Don listened in the back of the van, nodding in agreement. It was odd, wasn't it? Strange that someone who was so healthy suddenly had stage four cancer? It wasn't unheard of—sometimes there were no symptoms until suddenly it was too late. Still… What else did June know?
"I'll ask him," April said.
"You can give him my number," she said, adjusting her bun in the mirror.
"June, I think you need to take a step back and think."
June eyed April for a minute with piercing eyes, taking in every bit of her demeanor. She was stalling or hiding something, June decided, maybe both.
I know what they were working on… I know what they are… If I'm right, we can fix this…
'Trust Don,' Jo said, sharing a piece of pie with June one morning. 'If all else fails, trust Don.'
Johanna had seemed so preoccupied that day, almost afraid. June shook away the memory, desperately trying to focus on the present. Everything is failing, Jo… the world is collapsing around me; I can't lose you too…
"Don't do anything—rash," April said. "Do you want to stay with me?"
"No," June said, her voice thin and flat. "Just tell him to call me."
April nodded, turning the corner to the bakery. The ancient brick building towered among the trendy offices. She looked at the beautiful flowers hanging from her fire escapes and the fresh awning and clean lines of the building's façade. She still couldn't believe it was all her own.
June paused with her hand on the door handle. She studied the exhausted face of the kind hearted woman and gave a brave smile.
"Thank you, April," she said, and dashed to her door.
April watched her go in the building and wave from the window, then drove toward the turtles' garage. June sighed and took off her apron, then sat on the floor and let Beau lick her all over. He sat in front of her, looking deep into her eyes for a moment before whining. A giant paw rested on her shoulder as she pulled him in for a hug. She didn't care that his slobber was getting in her hair; what mattered was that he knew something was wrong and he cared—he was there for her. His furry warm head rested on her shoulder as she sobbed into the fat on his neck.
The giant hound licked her face when she pulled away, then watched her carefully as she walked to the bathroom. The hot water steamed up the bathroom quickly as she stripped down. As she tossed her clothes in the hamper her fingers tested the temperature. She pulled her hair loose from the bun and stepped in, washing every part thoroughly before resting her head on the cool tile.
She knew what she had to do… she just didn't like it.
The blood work from the lab wasn't right. Really, the only thing to indicate cancer was the elevated white blood cell count and the awful looking chest x-ray. The doctor considered exploratory surgery, but decided she may not survive it. He could only assume the masses in her lungs were cancer. Still, the doctor's notes questioned why it was only within the blood vessels, and not within the tissues. They were giving her antibiotics, which hadn't improved her conditions. In fact, she was getting worse. Another week on a ventilator and her chances of ever getting off of it dropped dramatically.
Don frowned at the screen, reading over the notes for the hundredth time. He was missing something, but he was too tired to think it through. 'Just use that big beautiful brain, Don,' Johanna's voice teased in his head.
"What is it then? Infection? Was she exposed to something in her lab?" he groaned aloud. "The bloodclot, the x-ray, the… spiderbite?"
He spent the next hour looking over different types of spider venom, but none worked like this. Finally Don sighed, staring at June's phone number. It had been two days and Johanna hadn't improved. He needed to call her, at least, to give her peace of mind. His mind swam with tragic possibilities, and he wished he could just forget about them all and crawl into bed with Johanna. The warmth of her skin and the smell of her hair haunted the lab, making it impossible to push her from his thoughts.
He set the phone down as Mike looked at his brother with sad blue eyes. Don couldn't bring himself to call June, he thought, because that would mean he'd have to accept that something was wrong—that JoJo might not make it. His heart ached for Don, but life and death were a part of their daily life, especially the latter. Mike glanced at the screen before the number disappeared.
"I can't do it," Don said finally, holding his head in his hands. "I can't just sit here—I can't train, I can't act like everything's okay."
Mike watched his brother's head lay on the desk in his folded hands, and Mike lay his head on the opposite side. He looked up with worry. He opened his mouth to say something, but for once he was speechless. What could he tell him? That she was going to be okay? She wasn't. That they'd find a cure? There was no cure for cancer. That there was more fish in the sea? Too harsh, too soon, and so not true. The brothers didn't have a lot of options. When they found one, they tended to hold onto her, treasuring the time before she got bored or realized she couldn't have a normal life with them. It wasn't always a deep connection, but anything to keep them grounded, to feel normal for a while was what kept them fighting. Something like this—this heartbreak could very well be the end of him.
"Thanks Mike," Don said suddenly, and locked eyes with his little brother.
"For what? I can't do anything and I feel shitty about it," Mike replied miserably.
"You're not telling me what you think I want to hear," Don said with a teary smile. "But you're here."
Mike returned the sad smile and patted Don's arm. Big Bro is devastated…
"What's this?" Mike said desperate to break the sad silence.
He picked up a little metal bead, no larger than a BB.
"That's a prototype from Johanna's work but—," Don said, and froze.
"Uh oh," Mike said, daring a small smile. "You have an idea."
"It's terrible and reckless," Don said, shaking his head.
Mike handed him the bead and grinned. "We could-"
"No we shouldn't—"
"I mean—"
"She'd want us to—" Don started.
"For science, right?" Mike said at the same time, and they stopped.
"We'd have to find out where the finished bots are, calibrate them, and get them there."
"Sure sure," Mike said. "I don't understand any of that but I'm so in. What can I do?"
"First," Don said, picking up his phone. "I have to talk to June."