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

Chapter 5

Mikey sleeps like the dead until the thin mattress dips and panicked dreams of falling jostle him into semi-consciousness. It takes him a while to realize why, his heart still racing as he slowly blinks the sleep out of his eyes. In the dim golden light, he can barely make out Don's shadow hunched at the edge of his bed, holding his head with his one good hand.

"Mmm." He stretches, wincing at the pull of sore muscles. His brain still feels like it's full of oatmeal from the lingering effects of the sedatives, and stringing two thoughts together is like slogging through muddy water. His tongue feels too big for his mouth, making his words slurred and thick. "How's Leo?"

Don startles a little, glancing up from staring vacantly at a spot on the floor. There's a new tension in his voice that Mike can't quite place.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," he apologizes quietly, rubbing at his forehead. "He's a little weak, but he'll be fine. He's already beating himself up for what happened. But I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

Mike doesn't say anything, just frowns. Of course Leo would beat himself up. Leo always feels like he's personally responsible for everything that happens to them. But this... this is huge. They almost committedsuicide, for cripe's sake! Did commit suicide, if it wasn't for the utroms. But it was a decision they all made together, and it was more than worth it considering what was at stake. But Leo wouldn't consider that. Not rationally, anway. He'd be sure there was something he missed that could've prevented them from going all kamikaze on the Shredder's metal butt. Though beyond that, Mike can't even begin to imagine what was going through his brother's head. Now he can only think of Leo all alone in his hospital room, lying there hating himself.

The new worry makes his stomach grow sour, but at least he feels like he's past the point of getting sick again. Now he's just stuck with a killer case of acid reflux.

Don's answer isn't the one he wanted. He never likes when his brothers talked about each other behind their backs. Not about stuff like this, anyway. Sure, Raph unloaded on him about Don or Leo all the time, but that doesn't mean he likes it. He just grins and bears it because Raph unloading on him means he's not exploding at someone else. And it was always so hard getting him to talk in the first place.

But Don knows better, mostly because Don is hissounding board whenever he's upset. He knows how he feels about that stuff.

After a long moment of uneasy quiet, Don runs a tired hand over his face. "Sorry."

"It's okay."

And it really is. Even if it makes his stomachache worse, he knows that Don's tired and stressed out. The poor guy's at his wit's end.

"They're just keeping him overnight. He's getting one more transfusion, then they said he should be up and around again by morning. We should be on the Homeworld by then."

"Well that's good," Mike says lamely, sparing a tight smile. In the dark Donny can't see it, but he knows he can hear it in his voice.

As bad as he feels, Mike has to stay focused on the positive side of things. There's so much awful stuff going on right now, it's easy to forget exactly how lucky they are to be alive. So he keeps swallowing down all those bad feelings into that oily churning in his gut, staying optimistic even if it means making himself sick in the process. But it's worth it. Don's wearing himself out keeping everything in, and Mike's already had his little freakout for the day. Now it's his job to pull it together.

Slowly, he sits himself up, talking quietly over Don's shoulder.

"You okay?"

Don sighs again, heavier this time. "I'm okay," he says reluctantly, awkwardly reaching back to try to massage the tension out of his neck. "I just ache all over."