The title of this chapter is ridiculous relevant to this fanfic as a whole and I'm not sure who to blame that irony on haha. Me, of course. Definitely me.
Special thanks to Ikara and Rhodesincolombus for the feedback and support on AO3 and tumblr!
TMNT, Leonardo, Raphael, Michelangelo, Donatello, Splinter, and LeatherHead © Mirage Studios
story © Turtlefreak121
Flicker
Chapter Fifteen: Waiting
Leonardo knew that there was not much to do at that point.
There was still the thought of turning back, of doing anything he could to prevent what was about to take place from going forward, but he knew that was only postponing the inevitable.
Things were moving so fast in their lives only to get ready for the longest stop imaginable.
After their night out on the town with Don, they returned to spend more time sitting around the lair. With the hours counting down until the operation, only Don – who seemed perpetually exhausted compared to the rest of them – was able to sleep.
The rest of them sat around him in the living room, molding into the couches and chairs and barely moving, even when their brother woke and stretched and played a game of twenty questions with them to check the validity of his sticky note taking.
At some point when Leo was still firmly inside of his own head, Casey had joined the waiting game.
He sat next to Raphael, hushed tones and the occasional joke between them to keep things lighter than usual. It was perhaps the calmest that Leonardo had seen his hot headed brother since the start of the turmoil.
Leo would have concentrated on the sincere moment longer if Master Splinter hadn't visibly stiffened beside him, leading Leo to look as well as April entered the area and cleared her throat.
She was wearing a disposable paper surgery gown, a face mask drawn close across her mouth, and her hair kept tightly back and under a cap. It was an alarming sight really, enough to make Leo feel chilled to his carapace.
"Don, are you ready?" she asked gently.
Quietly, Don got to his feet and looked to his family, holding the sort of brittle confidence in his smile that Leo wished he still had the strength to portray.
Before Don could take the first step, Mikey dove forward and hugged his brother's waist. And, in an uncharacteristic display, he didn't say anything to add to it.
Taking the cue, Leo stood beside his brothers and hugged Don's shoulders leading to a cascade of their father then Raphael then Casey himself joining in the embrace.
They held the silent moment as long as they could, clinging to it, before Leo exhaled strongly through his nostrils and pulled them apart. "Come on, Don," he said lowly. "Let's get this done with."
Casey and Raph broke the hug a little readily, though Raph's hand lingered over Don's shoulder for a last squeeze. Michelangelo tightened his embrace almost petulantly at first but slowly released Don, though it was more to wipe his wet eyes than anything else. Master Splinter as already ahead, looking back for Don and Leo to follow.
Don's bravado only grew more solid on his face as he stepped forward. Determination hardened whatever brittleness had existed previously and soon even Leo felt dwarfed in the face of his brother's obvious courage.
They didn't move to the newly built operation theater first, but rather stopped just outside at the small station Master Splinter had worked tirelessly on the day before.
Slowly, almost reluctantly, Don reached up for the mask on his face. His pads and belt had been taken off the night before and never returned to their proper places, but his mask stayed securely at his face.
The moment his fingers reached the fabric, however, Don's determined stare grew again and he wasted little time taking off the mask and then taking his seat at the station.
April hurried into the operation room in silence.
Leo and Splinter came to Don's sides and began methodically washing him down, especially his head and neck, his face.
"Hey, Leo," Don said lowly as they washed him.
"Yeah, Don?" Leo asked gently.
"Was it really a TV the whole time? Did I not dream that?" Don asked.
Master Splinter grew a curious look aimed toward Leonardo, but he continued the task at hand rather than giving the curiosity voice. He was almost more determined than Don himself.
"Yeah, that's what you told us," Leo answered.
"When was that? Last night?" Don continued.
"It was last night," Leo replied gently. "You're doing a good job remembering."
"It was on one of the sticky notes," Don answered with a sigh. There was almost a humor to his tone, though it was seeped in quiet annoyance. "But I already forgot what we did before that. It was on another note I read earlier."
"Pizza," Leo informed him. "We ate pizza."
"That sounds awesome," Don laughed as they sat him back up. "We'll have to do it again. After all this."
For the first time in hours, maybe days, Leo looked at his brother with a genuine smile. "Yeah, Don. Definitely."
As Don got up to his feet and readied to walk into the operation room, he grabbed on tightly to Leo's wrist.
Looking at him questioningly, Leo tilted his head.
"I know I can't promise this, Leo, but I want to promise you that I'll never forget all you guys have been doing for me," Don said seriously. "I know how crazy all this is, I know it's so much and I know I probably don't know the half of what you guys had to put up with from me but–"
"But nothing," Leo said, guiding Don forward. "We're family. We'd do anything."
Don nodded gently, his fierce determination restored.
"And, besides," Leo could't help but joke, "you really think Mike and Raph will pass up on the chance to rub this in your face later?"
"Ha, you're right," Don snorted. "What was I thinking?"
They had practiced what felt like a hundred times. And while the pressure and the aggravation of it all had gotten to them more than once, even LeatherHead had to admit that he and April moved like a synchronized machine by the time they readied the operation table one last time.
They washed up for the procedure, shoulder and shoulder, uncertain if the various equipment they had created and siphoned off friends over the past few days would be remotely enough.
All that was left for them was to hope.
To hope and to do everything precisely as practiced – better than practiced.
The plastic sheets at the door of the operation room opened and Leonardo led Donatello in. Splinter, at their sides, stopped short of the door – not daring to risk misplacing a single hair in the sterilized environment.
"We just need you to lay back on this, Don," April said calmly, waving to the table.
Another expression passed between the brothers before Donatello followed instructions.
LeatherHead had never seen his friend so determined, but his instincts as a crocodile made him privy to the subtle layers of fear hidden just beneath Donatello's facade. And it was more than understandable.
Once Don had settled, LeatherHead made a point of coming to his old friend's side and offering a small smile. "We will do everything we can," LeatherHead promised. "And then we will go above and beyond even that."
Don smiled tiredly. "I know," he replied. "There's no two people I trust more in the world." He paused then glanced to his brother. "Leo, are…"
"I'm here, Don," Leo promised. "I'll be here when you go to sleep, and I'll be here when you wake up. How's that sound?"
"Sounds needy," Don sighed, laying back on the table. "Thanks. And… could you write down to tell you thanks later? I don't want to forget it."
"We'll remind you," Leo said readily and without thinking – LeatherHead wondered if they had had the conversation before.
That thought alone saddened him.
Once Don was ready, April and LeatherHead both stepped up to gently secure him in place for the operation, they attached equipment in practiced order, then April administered the anesthesia.
Donatello's once observant and ever calculating eyes were fixated in the direction of his brother only, not appreciating the fine machinery around them. And as the anesthesia quickly did its work, those soft brown eyes grew lax, and slowly rolled back as his lids fluttered shut.
At the same time, April and LeatherHead looked to the machines and checked on all of their precious friend's vitals.
When everything checked out, they moved to the next step.
LeatherHead noticed how Leonardo lingered. "We are ready to begin, Leonardo," he warned. "Are you certain you wish to see this–"
"Absolutely," Leo said, nearing the table, though no too close as to contaminate. "Absolutely," he repeated quietly.
After Master Splinter had joined them, the waiting began.
For weeks their lives had been nonstop motion – years, if they weren't trying to be generous – of one thing after another. One concern after another.
Then Don left, Master Splinter returned, and their lives came to a grinding, irrefutable stopping point.
Raphael hated it. He hated it so much that he couldn't stand it.
Every fiber of his being wanted to pick up his things and leave. Return later, doanything but sit around and feel useless. Weak. Incapable. Guilty–
Beneath his surface, Raphael was running the collective gambit on emotions. Emotions he didn't have any right to at that point so far as he was concerned. Not when it wasn't him in the other room, when it wasn't him doing everything he could have to be there for his brother even before they knew what was wrong.
As always, he felt too much and couldn't do anything with the feelings.
If he didn't have Casey by his side, occasionally bumping elbows with him and giving him a knowing look, Raph would have left in the first ten minutes of waiting.
He would've missed Master Splinter making the first of many teas.
Then he would have left after the second hour. He would've missed the first failed attempt at a movie Mikey proposed watching that they all quickly lost interest in.
After that he might've left during the fifth hour, when his pacing began and Casey began to nod off, no amount of tea or coffee or pizza able to undo the past eighteen hours of staying up with April and LeatherHead, constructing whatever was needed.
But Raphael stayed – stopped. Stuck. Just there.
And he wasn't so sure there was anything else he could've done.
And waiting, as it turned out, was maddening even then. Even after having practiced it for endless hours. Even after Mikey had given up on trying to find a decent flick for watching.
Master Splinter hadn't even bothered asking Raphael if he wanted the next cup of tea when a sound disrupted each and every one of them.
The sound of plastic against plastic had never been more pristine, more breathtaking.
They all looked at once and watched with wide eyes as not only April but LeatherHead as well stepped out.
They were not wearing the same gowns that April had had on when she came to get Don, nor were they wearing gloves anymore, their face masks hanging around their necks, April's hair sticking out of her sweat wet cap.
They looked exhausted to the point of miserableness, but the weariness did not meet their eyes.
"We're done with this leg of it," April announced.
Everyone rose to their feet at once, a tempered silence still waiting on baited breath.
"The procedure for now seems successful," LeatherHead answered the unasked. "We removed all that we had detected previously of the mass."
That broke the ice and relief rushed over all of them.
Raphael, unable to help himself, dropped back onto the couch he had shared with Casey. He let out a shaky breath and cupped his hands around his eyes. There were tears there against his command and he hoped that even if Casey was patting his shoulders, it didn't mean his closest friend could see the true depths of how shaken he was.
"You can go sit with him now if you wash up," April continued. "Give Leo some company. He refuses to leave."
Raph, Mike, and Splinter didn't ask for clarification beyond that.
Rather, they harmoniously moved forward and wrapped their arms around their friends however momentarily, then broke away to do just that.
The waiting continued, but Raphael at least no longer felt like his life had completely stopped to a standstill.