「ABSENCE」 TMNT 2012

35; Part One

Casey piped up just as April was about to suggest the last idea. "Let's just climb the building next to this one and hop to the other side," he said.

April looked to where he was pointing – their right – and face palmed. "Duh. That could've saved us a ton of time."

And she was right. As they walked down the sidewalk and began the climb up the emergency stairs on the next apartment building, they didn't realize how much time had been lost. By the time they would reach the top of the Park Avenue hotel, part one of the nightmare would set the stage for the rest of them.

Part One: Leo

    Elly hovered shakily over the sweating mutant, gently stroking his rough hand and whispering into his ear.

    "Shh . . ." she repeated as he panted. "It's okay. You're okay. It'll be okay." Over and over again she said these things. She believed them, for the most part. But at the same time, never had she seen someone in such pain before, and it was weighing on her already heavy heart.

    His voice was getting weaker the more he used it, as was the rest of him. Screams dropped to shouts, and shouts fizzled to loud groans. The groans became low moaning sounds, and then whimpering. Quiet whimpers. Desperate pleas.

"Please," he would whisper in a hoarse voice. "Please . . . make it . . . make it s-stop . . ."

He cried. Elly cried. She couldn't stand to watch him hurt, but she wouldn't turn away from him either. As the tears struggled down his cheeks, her own tears fell and landed with his to dance down his neck.

His neck. It shone with sweat and tears. His sharp collar bones reflected the city and heaved up and down with scratchy breaths. Elly wished she had a towel and a cold, wet rag to help ease his pain. But all she had was her dress. Her stupid ball gown that sat draped upon her shoulders, completely useless and absolutely pitiful.

    Leonardo's breaths were slowing, adding worry to her already panicked thoughts. After the struggling she'd just witnessed, he couldn't possibly be feeling better, could he? He was still mumbling incoherently. His chapped lips still moved, parting slightly as if he were trying to say something, but couldn't find his voice. She wished she could get into his mind, understand what exactly was wrong.

Then she heard it. The soft, deep whisper. He was saying something. Something she couldn't hear.

His head moved back and forth, like a sleeping child dreaming vividly. Or maybe having a nightmare. She would never know.

Beads of sweat continued to roll down his face. Reluctantly, she placed the back of her hand to his forehead, as her mother used to do when she got sick as a little girl. He was hot. Too hot. Alarmingly hot. Clutching her hand tightly, she watched him carefully, praying he wouldn't get any worse.

"Why didn't I go to medical school?" She questioned herself. Instead she wasn't even through her first year of law school, and she had no clue was different symptoms could mean for a suffering patient.

    She jumped as another whisper came out, prompting her to hesitantly lean forward. His lips still moved, and she became curious to know what he was saying.

    She glanced up at Jeff, who sat on the opposite side of the roof dangling his legs over the edge, almost like he was waiting for someone. Her eyes flicked back down to the mutant below her. She was close to him, but not close enough. She still couldn't hear him.

    "What is it, Leo?" She whispered, more to herself than to him. He had something to say. He just couldn't form it.

    His lips. Watch his lips, she told herself. Maybe she could determine his words by reading his mouth.

    But he seemed to be saying nothing. They opened and closed ever so slightly, leaving no room for reading. But another whisper came out, and this one was discernible.

    "Elly . . ."

    Her eyes widened. He'd said her name. It must be because she was beside him. Did he even realize she was there, right next to him? Did he know, in the midst of all his pain?

    "Leo," she called softly, "I'm here. Right here." She searched his face for signs of health. She was so close to him, trying desperately to hear whatever he was trying to say.

    His eyes crinkled and fluttered open suddenly, scaring her out of her wits when he gasped. She leaned back to get out of his face and give him some room, but his mouth started to move again and she returned, slowly, to her leaning position over him.

    "Elly, I . . ." That much she could understand. The rest was too quiet.

"What, Leo? I can't hear you." She choked when she noticed his face. His eyes pleaded with her. He was desperate to tell her something, but she couldn't understand at all. He cried hard, unable to make her hear. His wide eyes searched hers as the tears escaped.

She leaned so close her ear was almost touching his mouth. "Please . . ." she whispered. "Tell me."

There was a prolonged silence. One so terribly hopeless she was ready to sit back and let it go. But he somehow managed to whisper something that she could barely make out.

"It hurts," he croaked. He choked on his own words as they somehow poured out. "It hurts, Elly."

She scrunched her eyes shut, trying not to cry as the anguish in his voice hurt her soul.

He hissed sharply. "It's just . . . it's just a headache," he cried, as if he were trying to convince himself. "It's just a headache."

"Leo–"

"Elly. Please," he begged.

She bit her lip so hard she thought it would start bleeding. Why did her chest hurt so bad? Why was she crying? He was going to be okay. April was coming. Help was coming. But . . . why was she crying?

"Elly . . ."

There it was. Her name again.

"Elly . . ."

He drew in a shaky breath, one that felt like it was breaking every bone in his body. He stared at the light brown hairs on Elly's head, so close to him. He blinked the wetness from his eyes.

"Kiss me."

It was such a hoarse, desperate plea that he wasn't sure she'd heard him. And if she had, he was positive she would jump back and stare at him like he was a monster.

But she didn't. She turned right around, sniffling, and without hesitation, leaned down and pressed her lips to his.

Slowly, the tiniest of smiles ghosted across his lips, and he closed his eyes, missing her already. Darkness consumed him; all his senses. But there was still her soft lips against his.

It was the last thing he felt before he slept.