Chapter 41:

Activate

Oswald's central research lab was generic in Donatello's eyes. Large enough where Leatherhead had no need to mind his tail, but still generic. Its monochromatic palette spanned from the swindle stools and connecting desks to the shelves lining every wall, save one that the genius assumed provided the bathroom entrances.

His cold feet shifted across the linoleum floor and his eyes darted to his tablet again. The app on it was still running, ensuring the group inside remained hidden. That did little to ease his muscles.

'Time's running out. Whatever hit the building a while ago caused a lot of commotion. We can barricade the lab if necessary, but…we'd never get out undetected.'

"Nia, stop flinching." Melody's sharp tone lured her husband's attention beyond the lab's desks, where the cyborg stood beside a blood donor chair.

Nia reclined against its leather and held her bare arm with a sigh. "I—I know," she said, glancing towards the second chair cradling Splinter. "Donny-niichan scolds me too."

On any other day, Donatello would've seized the opportunity for teasing. Right now, though, he felt too heavy. Splinter's wheezing served as a constant reminder of what was at stake, and no matter how many times the Chūnin saw his sister in a cami, he couldn't get over the plasma burn across her collar bone or the scars littering the inside of her forearms.

"It's just a prick, Nia," April added. The redhead rounded Splinter, having already hooked up his intravenous line to an empty blood bag on a saline stand between the chairs.

"It's not the pain," the artist muttered. "It's the needle. All I want to do is toss it."

"For Splinter's sake, I hope you do not."

April sent Melody a pointed stare as Nia sighed again. "Jabs like that are never helpful."

"I know a few who would disagree," the cyborg countered with a subtle glare.

"Like who?"

"Doesn't matter. She needs to give me her arm, and she needs to do it while Splinter's still breathing."

"Gray—"

"Friends." Leatherhead's tail cut through the women's stand off like a guillotine. Attention now on him, the crocodile mutant flashed an uneasy smile. "How do we expect to heal one of our own when we waste time squabbling with each other?"

"He has a point," Donatello added. "Please, just for tonight."

"Melody-chan means well, April-chan," Nia told the redhead. She smiled as well, although her arm trembled when Melody extended it, needle at the ready. "Sh—she's just scared, like everyone else."

"I can't afford to be scared."

"Doesn't mean you aren't…"

Melody snorted as the needle broke Nia's skin. After taping the IV in place and double-checking its integrity, she stepped back then frowned at the nauseous look that overcame the artist.

"Nia, you alright?" April questioned, placing a palm against her friend's forehead.

"Wait." Melody swatted away the redhead's hand. She earned a snarl, but remained focused on Nia's rigid body. "She's having a flashback."

April straightened. "A flashback? To what?"

Donny knew the answer, and once the questioned settled in April's brain, so did she. 'Is it right to let her live it?' The genius grimaced at Nia's wide eyes. 'She might remember something helpful or just…'

"Do—does so much blood come from one person?" the pale human whispered. Slowly, her grip on the flat chair arms tightened, until the leather squeaked from the pressure of her fingernails. "Is that all…mine? Why are there so many people? Who…would want to see…so much blood? So much…red?"

"That's enough." Voice steely, April pushed Melody aside to grip both of Nia's shoulders and shake her. "Nia, honey, you aren't with Bishop anymore. October's over. You're here, with your family, who needs you. So please snap out of it."

Donatello frowned while watching Nia's fingers release the chair arms with a gasp. She blinked then cringed, a soft curse at her parted lips.

"I—I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't be," April countered. She ran a hand along the younger woman's face, but Melody stopped it, leading the redhead away. "What's wrong with you, Gray?" April snapped. She planted her sneakers on the sleek floor then reclaimed the hand Don was sure she wanted to swipe across the cyborg's face.

"Keeping her calm is pushing us further away from our goal," Melody noted in a dead tone.

"How so?"

"Name the times Nia's IgRs were activated."

"Uh…" April met the young woman's downcast face, jaw slack, so Mel continued,

"The phenomena is characterized not just by healing, but by a push in the energy surrounding Nia. The night she first met Michelangelo, the time she hurt Splinter during meditation, Halloween, her experience when retrieving that power cell for the Damn Mechanic—all of these have a single common factor. Fear."

"You want to scare her?" April asked through gritted teeth.

"It is the closest to a guarantee we have. When Nia is frightened, she reverts to her basic instincts—such is any creature's nature."

"But to scare her?" The redhead's short hair swayed with her head. "That's cruel."

"Even so, she has never met a Languu before and thus has no means for an alternative."

"I—it's fine, April-chan," whispered Nia.

"No, it's not."

"Then it's bearable, for Splinter's sake." Eyes set on the unconscious rat opposite of the saline stand, Nia hardened her expression. "He's not ready. He can't die like this, not before…"

"Before what?"

Nia sent LH a quick smile then faced Melody. "Do whatever it takes."

"Ni—"

"My strength is in my spirit, April-chan. Splinter-san helped me see that."

Nia had made up her mind and there was no changing it. Her knit brows forced April to back down as she inhaled deeply, turning to Melody. The cyborg responded with a blank look then glanced down at her hands.

"Leatherhead got you a present," she said dryly. Don couldn't recall when LH had handed over the power cell to his wife, but he vaguely remembered the request.

Thankfully, the joke wasn't lost on Nia like it was on April. "Thanks, LH-kun," the artist noted. She sent the large mutant a nod then situated the cylindrical device between her legs, its blue glow tainting her comic-print tights.

"Feel the warmth," Melody noted as Nia placed her hands over the cell's top. "It influenced you before; let it do so aga—"

"Something wrong?" Donny asked, struck by Mel's confused look.

The half-blonde shook her head. "A weird feeling just hit me."

"What kind?"

"Tabitha cut herself off. Last I heard, she was on her way to help bus two-ninety."

"She must've gotten distracted by all the worry in your head," Don jested. The action was void, though, so he neared his wife to take her hand. "Sven had to block you too, right?"

"Yes. But if the channel is open, Tabitha never…she tends to cling."

Don flashed a smile, despite how Melody paled. "What are little siblings for? She may've even done it because she knows we need you here. The others have their mission, this is ours. So…work your magic."

Melody sent her husband a sidelong glance. "Magic?"

"You're the one who seems to know how to activate the IgRs."

"That is a simple matter of recreating her past experiences."

"Nothing about this is simple." April was right, although no one wanted to reiterate her point.

Melody disregarded her (which was probably for the best), pushing Donatello to the foot of Nia's chair. "Leatherhead, you are prepared to monitor Splinter's vitals should the machine malfunction?"

"Yes," LH answered.

"April, you have the defibrillator?"

"I do. But if the batteries—"

"They should be fine. Nia's concentration will be set on the power cell. And in case it expands, you also have the Diazepam."

"You know we hate having to treat you like this, don't you?" April asked Nia with glossy eyes.

The dark-haired human didn't reply, but she lifted her gentle gaze from the power cell.

"What about Don's tablet?" April added. "If that conks out, won't the app stop running?"

"If it does, I have a contingency plan," Donatello answered. "The app will reroute to a secondary system. While I won't have control anymore, it'll still function on the same settings. Unless someone resets the power here."

"So this is it." Nia chuckled awkwardly as Melody bent over. "We're gunna do this on purpose?"

"Yes, now"—the cyborg's hands drew up the artist's teal eyes by squeezing her shoulders—"return to the memory you were just lost in."

"Wh—what?"

"Bishop is your trigger, right? A place like this must bring back terrible memories."

"I—I thought I was supposed to be thinking about healing, not—" Nia swallowed—a loud, evident action that looked agonizing.

"Partly. However, if you remain balanced, your IgRs will never activate."

"I've gotten better at control, though. I—I don't think I even remember how—"

Mel tightened her grip on Nia, causing her to flinch. "You do. Your PTSD will not let you forget."

"PT—?" Nia shook her head and waved an arm. "I—I—I don't have PTSD. I mean, yeah, thinking about him is nauseating. And I have night terrors about, uh, October almost every week. Needles make me wanna cry, and sometimes, I jump at, um, the color red. Or my blood. But that doesn't mean—Leo was much, much worse, so—wh…why is everyone staring?"

"It's not textbook, but—" April sent Donatello a pained look.

"Those are symptoms of PTSD," the genius finished, solemn. He admired Nia for the way she smiled, although he knew it was a mask, a pitiful mask.

"You were taken against your will," Melody added.

Nia's mask fell as she faced the cyborg again. "Actually, I gave myself up…for Raph."

"Did you want to go with the EPF?"

"N—no."

"Then it was against your will. A madman took you to his lab. Experimented on you, used you. What makes you believe I would not know the stress that puts on a person?"

"I…" Nia sighed then glanced away. "I'm sorry. I know you had it worse than me."

"Stop."

"Stop what?"

Melody's metal body shook. The way she shifted across the floor left dents in her wake and spoke volumes of her frustration, which had likely been bottled up since before she entered Oswald Cybernetics. "Don't focus on pity," she hissed. "Splinter is decaying as we speak, and if you can't activate those antibodies he'll be dead in days!"

Donny understood why April stepped forward when Nia gasped, but he gripped her arm anyway, bringing her back with a frown on his face. The redhead obviously found no pleasure in complying, yet she settled for strangling the defibrillator in her grip.

"Think about Bishop," Melody continued, just as tart. "About the plans he had for you."

"But I—"

With a growl, the cyborg cut off Nia. The pale human jumped in her leather seat then whimpered as Melody's metal fist met her diaphragm in a swift motion. Coughs instantly followed, the kind that almost earned a defibrillator chucked at Mel's head, before Don pinned April's arms at her sides.

"He made you feel weak, right?" asked Melody over Nia's labored breaths. "Like you'd be stuck on a table forever? Cold. Useless. Alone. Focus on the pain it haunts you with. Give into the memories about scalpels and spinning rooms and pretend they're in that broken rib. Then, will the pain to end."

"End?"

The lab's lights flickered with the artist's croak. It should've been a good sign, except it knotted Donatello's stomach tighter each time the room fell dark. He tore his gaze from April to Melody, who panted, her hands curled. Was it because her stress over Splinter had finally overflowed? Or was Nia's Chi drawing energy from the cyborg instead of the power cell?

"Melody," Donny called.

The half-blonde stood tall. "Will the rib to heal, Nia. Think of the relief it would give if it no longer hurt."

"But I—it does hurt," Nia muttered back. Her arms were wrapped around her torso and she hunched over the power cell, trembling with her words. "It hurts. The samples, the blood, the screams, the fire—it all hurts. He smiles. Why does he smile?"

"Nia?"

Donatello shook his head at April, eyes burning as Nia went on,

"Disgusting thing. Why do you exist? Why would a human bear…you? Guess in a twisted way, I'm thankful. You aren't like the other one. I can use you."

"Other one?" Don echoed. "Does Bishop have another hybrid?"

Whatever suggestion April may've had, it was lost under the sudden pops emanating from the lab's ceiling lights. They overloaded one by one, starting from Nia outwards in a ripple marked by bright lights and sparks. Tension through the air grew thick the moment the last light burned out by the main entrance, and when Donatello moved his head, it felt as if he were twisting it underwater.

Despite the hindrance, the Bō master reached for his wife. His three fingers captured her wrist, tugging her away from a faint glow that started flickering in Nia's chair. She complied without complaint—possibly due to the foreboding pins and needles sensation that stiffened even Don's joints.

"N—Nia?" April's question carried through the darkness in a frightened whisper.

It ended in a pulse of Paresthesia, pushing Donny back with an invisible hand. The light from before then ignited in a burst of spider-web designs. They glowed in a faint blue that worked their way around slender forms. Don could tell with each new line what they were: surface veins. Nia's surface veins to be exact.

She was muttering, her head limp. But the mutant could distinguish her arms and neck and assumed her tights kept her legs from glowing as well. He'd never seen such a thing before, and while it was an interesting sight, instincts warned him against remaining close.

Once the glow expanded passed Nia's veins to her hair, lightening it with beads of white, the room grew hot. It winded Donatello in seconds, prompting him to drag Melody further away.

"Y—you can't stay," he said while eyeing Nia.

"The IgRs are activating," Melody countered, heaving. "Now's the time."

"Mel, you can feel it. Her body's winding up for something big, and you can't be here when it discharges!"

The cyborg was already at the saline stand by the time Don realized she had left, and her metal glistened with a blue hue as she began the transfusion. "Before that moment is the exact time Splinter needs her blood. Look."

Don grimaced as blood rose through the intravenous line from Nia's arm. Light specs dotted the red stream like little gems inside the plastic tube, but the IgRs were a bitter sight. He didn't trust them, and the increasing heat and pulsating pushes of pure Chi were a good reason not to.

"Mel," he started.

The cyborg ignored him while the IgRs grew more numerous in the thin tubes. With trembling lips, Don watched them flow from the blood bag down the line that led into Splinter's arm. They entered his veins with the same glow they held inside Nia and so lit his dark body in a similar matter.

But something was wrong. The rat writhed with discomfort against his chair. Subtle at first; then his breathing grew labored. The IgRs brightened with every gasp he made, and his blood pressure spiked in a series of horrible sounds that left Don nauseous from realization and dread.

"April, ready the Diazepam—now!"

The warning came too late; a Chi wave unlike any before erupted. Donatello felt it inside his bones like a fever, and he was tossed backwards into a desk when Nia and Melody screamed.