TMNT: Ricochet ▶ON HOLD (till gets more reads, votes and comments)◀

Chapter 3

They were halfway through setting Mikey's leg when Glurin made his return appearance to Med Bay Three. Don hadn't noticed him at first, considering they'd given him enough muscle relaxers to knock out a horse when they set and casted his arm. It was almost impossible to fight off the death grip of exhaustion making his eyes close on their own accord.

Despite the sedatives, Mikey still had enough presence of mind to hold his hand and moan while the utrom medics stretched his leg to align the bones with a nauseating crack. Still, Don found his head bobbing forward, the rest of him feeling like a big bowl of pudding that made it way too easy to lose track of everything.

"Donatello?"

Don startles awake with snort, still holding Mikey's hand. He doesn't remember falling asleep, but his eyes don't seem to want to open again, squinting hazily at the utrom leaning over his shoulder. "Hmm... wuah?"

"Sorry to disturb you," he says quietly. "But Leonardo is out of surgery. They just finished his procedure a moment ago."

A new bolt of worry gives him a much-needed shot of adrenaline that slaps him awake and drags him stumbling back to his senses. Don scrambles upright in his chair, ignoring the way the jostling makes his arm throb. "How is he?"

"From what I'm told, he's doing well. He's still anemic, but they were able to stop the bleeding quickly. He's receiving a second transfusion of synthetic blood product now, and should be waking up from the anesthesia at any moment."

"That reminds me," Don sighs with the new flood of relief, rubbing Mike's arm in a way he hopes is encouraging. They were just placing the cast now, and it feels like they'd been doing this for ages. "I wanted to ask you about the nerve damage."

As he sat there waiting for Mike's leg to be fixed, he'd been thinking about how Leo would react to only having full use of one arm. It would drive him crazy at first, and there's no doubting the effect on his ninjitsu would be a huge emotional blow along with a physical one. But he would cope. Don had faith. This was Leo,after all, the guy who could do anything he set his mind to.

More than anything, Don was just glad to have his brother alive and doing well after everything they've been through, even with the potential of lasting damage. He just needs to be prepared for the long road ahead.

"Unfortunately I don't know many details," Glurin says. "But his surgeon will want to speak with you whenever you're ready."

As glad as he was for the opportunity to have his questions answered, for a moment Don wonders why the surgeon was waiting to talk to him specifically. It only takes a second to realize that he doesn't have anyone else to talk to. It's just him. In charge of everyone's well-being.

He's exhausted, drugged, and still in pain, but he can't give in to it now. Not yet. He can't let himself rest until he has more solid answers. And even then, if there's bad news, he's not sure if he'll be able to rest at all.

Don sighs again, wearily rubbing his forehead. "I can talk to him in a few minutes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he answers tiredly, gesturing at the two medics still busy wrapping Mikey's leg. "I'll be there as soon as we're done with this."

"All right," Glurin assents. "I'll let him know and I'll be back to escort you shortly."

Then he's gone, leaving Don alone to grapple with his own thoughts, reaching again for Mikey's slackening hand. He can tell Mikey's just as exhausted as he is. Maybe more so, after literally crying himself sick. Even as they're placing his bandage he's completely drifted off with a little help from the sedatives, still wincing in his sleep.

Though he's mostly comfortable and dozing by the end, Don still hates the idea of leaving him. He waits until the two medics are gone, switching off the lights and sitting in silence in the company of his own racing mind. Without distraction, all his worries grow from an iron pain in the bottom of his stomach to a howling storm of fear and doubt. A whirling cyclone of unanswered questions and unending variables that pummels him from the inside-out. His heart is thundering in his chest.

The last thing he wants right now is to be alone. But he can't wait to talk to that surgeon, and he can't rest until he sees Leo's face again. He can't just sit there in the dark, having a silent panic attack while Mikey sleeps. There has to be something he can do. Even if there's nothing, he still has to try. There's no other choice. It's time to go.

"Hey," he half-whispers, giving his brother's hand a squeeze. Mikey groans quietly, rocking his head a little until he manages to open his eyes a crack.

"Are they done?" He croaks sleepily, lifting his head as if it weighs a hundred pounds to get a good look at his new cast.

"They're done."

"It itches already," he groans, thumping his head back down on the pillow and draping an arm over his eyes for dramatic effect.

"Mikey, listen," Don starts again. "I have to go for a little while. Leo just got out of surgery. But I'll be back soon, I promise."

"Nooo...," he whines, throwing his arm away from his face for a more effective pout. It only makes leaving that much harder. "I want to go, too."

"Mikey. You can barely keep your eyes open. I'll be back soon. Just stay here and try to rest. We can visit him again later."

Mike manages to open his eyes wider, blinking owlishly as he reads the lines of worry on his brother's tired face.

"Glurin said he's okay, right?"

Don nods once, his mouth pressed in a hard, stubborn line. "He'll be fine. He just lost a lot of blood, but they're fixing that now."

Mikey doesn't answer right away, staring at him thoughtfully and considering Don's promise as if his brother might walk out that door and never be seen again. But eventually he nods, reaches for Donny's hand and gives it a final squeeze before letting go. "Just tell him I love him, okay?"

Don's smile is tight around the growing ache in his chest.

"Okay," he says, rubbing his brother's head affectionately before he helps him settle in, fussing over the pillows propping up his leg. Then Glurin's in the doorway again, waiting for him with some kind of hovering wheelchair. Waiting to take him to Leo. Anxiety prickles like ice in his gut. "Try to get some sleep."

When Mikey doesn't respond, Don almost thinks he's drifted off again, trying to convince himself he'll be fine when he's gone. It'll only be for a little while. But as Glurin helps him sit, Don knows the muscle relaxers aren't the only thing weighing him down.

"Donny?" Mikey says muzzily. It sounds like he's talking in his sleep. Glurin stops him in the doorway.

"Hm?"

"Love you too."

"I know." It feels cheap even while he's saying it, but he can't afford anything else. He has to stay focused, try to keep his head clear for what lies ahead. He knows Mikey will forgive him. "I'll be back."

And then they're gone, traveling the same winding hallways he remembers from before. It isn't any easier the second time.