Lost in the Fight

Chapter 22 - Losing Hope

The oldest turtle was currently sitting on Donnie's cot with his unconscious little brother ever-so carefully propped up against his chest. Leo had one arm securely hooked around Donnie's waist and his other arm was wrapped across his injured brother's battered plastron, holding him up in a sitting position.

Donnie's fever had broken several days ago, but Leo still felt a great sense of relief now that he no longer felt the heat that had radiated from his brother's skin for far too long. It was one of the few things that had brought the leader solace these past few days.

While Leonardo used his body to support his most intelligent brother, his eyes remained sealed shut, just as they had been for the last twenty minutes or so. Not because Leo was asleep, but because he had been trying to meditate, hoping that he might be able to reach out to Donnie on the astral plane. Unfortunately, Leonardo's troubled thoughts continued to prevent him from quieting his mind enough to achieve the inner calmness necessary for successful meditation. His profound sadness was making it nearly impossible to relax or focus.

All he could think about anymore was Donnie. That's all any of them could think about . . .

Donatello had had another rough night. In fact, his lungs had gotten so clogged at one point, a very panicked Raphael had called them all into the infirmary at three o'clock in the morning because he had feared that Donnie was choking. Master Splinter had yet again administered the Healing Hands technique to Donatello, which had slightly helped to ease his irregular breathing. At least it had helped enough that the rest of them were able to go back to bed and try to get some sleep while Raph had attempted to get his own breathing back under control.

Several hours later, Leo had returned to the laboratory to relieve his hotheaded brother of his shift and the oldest turtle had immediately noticed that Donnie was still having a rather tough time inhaling and exhaling. Always the stubborn one, Raph had initially refused to leave Donnie's side until his breathing had improved, but Leo had somehow managed to convince his red-banded brother to join Mikey and Master Splinter in the Dojo for morning practice. The leader had seen that his immediate younger sibling was clearly shaken and had been in desperate need of a break from the dreariness billowing over the infirmary.

After Raph had begrudgingly left the lab, Leo had opted climb up on the cot with Donnie, thinking that maybe if he shifted his ailing brother into a more upright position, it might help to clear up his obstructed lungs.

Up until last night, the nasty case of pneumonia that Donatello had been fighting so hard to overcome seemed to have been improving. So much so that they had opted to remove his oxygen mask, but now, the illness had reared its ugly head once again, taking full advantage of Donnie's already compromised immune system.

Leonardo stared down at his smartest brother with the same concerned expression that had been painted on his face for days. The oldest turtle's sapphire gaze studied his brother's quiet form limply pinned against him. Though Leo was still burdened with worry, it pleased him to hear that Donatello's chest was rising and falling steadily with much less hindrance than when the blue-masked turtle's shift had started. Leonardo was suddenly reminded of the words that his father had spoken to him just yesterday while they had been removing some of Donnie's stitches . . .

"Small victories lead to larger ones, my son."

After another fifteen minutes had crawled by, Leo's back and legs started to cramp up on him, informing him that he needed to move around a bit. He carefully slid out from behind Donnie and gently lowered him back down onto the cot, being mindful of his brother's many injuries. Leo then grabbed a few of the extra pillows that April had brought for Donnie and cautiously tucked them underneath his genius brother's head and back to help elevate him a little more. Once Leo felt confident that Donnie was reasonably comfortable, he trudged over to the task chair next to his injured brother's cot and plopped down into it like he weighed a ton. He then straightened up his posture and stretched out his sore muscles, wincing as several joints popped and clicked back into their natural alignment. The extreme stiffness in his neck and lower back were telling him that he had been spending entirely too much time sitting around doing nothing. His body screamed out for more physical activity, but he didn't possess the time nor the energy to heed the call.