"DONNIE!"
Hm?
Donatello shifted in his sleep, mumbling his Nobel Science Prize acceptance speech that had been recited at least 1,000,000 times.
"AH!!"
The purple masked turtle shot up, his eyes wide as Striker frantically shook him.
"I-it's (y/n), she tried to remove a tracking beacon and-"
Before Striker could even finish his sentence, Donnie had scrambled to his feet and snatched his bag.
"WHERE IS SHE??" He cried, desperation smothering his voice.
"I-in the lab."
In a flash, Donnie had ran out of his room and down the hall, his thoughts racing. He knew exactly what had happened. You had tried to remove the tracker, and more than likely it released a toxin of some sort in order to prevent its removal. He couldn't lose you. Not now. Not when you were so close to finally ridding the earth of the horrible mutagens and giving people their lives back. Not when he could almost taste some form of normalcy with you.
Down the hall. Through the living room.
My God why did they live in such a big house! It's underground for shell's sake!
(Y/N)!!
(Y/N)!!
His voice was hoarse as he cried out, bursting into the lab. For a split second, he froze at the sight he saw.
There you were, skin pale and lips blue, lying lifeless on the floor. A small pool of blood surrounded your arm that rested on the steel table.
"No. No no no no no no (Y/N)!!" He screamed out again, an uncontrollable sob escaping his mouth as he ran over to your side. He couldn't lose you, not now! But what could he do?! What was the toxin used?? Cyanide? No, that would be too lethal to the patient. The point was to keep the tracker inside the body, not kill you. Radon? Not likely, not potent or fast acting.
"COME ON DONNIE THINK!"
Arsenic.
That's it.
It's just like Shredder.
"A-arsenic!" Donatello quickly ripped open his bag and begin pulling out a syringe, his hands slightly shaking and vision blurry. He couldn't think straight.
"STRIKER!"
Striker ran up to the Donnie, out of breath. "I—I'm here!"
"Go to the cabinet and get a bottle that says EDTA and give me your belt."
He nodded and quickly undid his belt, throwing it onto the table before running back to the wall. Striker then flung open the cabinet and began rummaging through the several glass bottles.
Donnie turned back to you, working through salty tears that threatened to spill as he quickly wrapped the belt around your damaged arm.
"I'm sorry if this hurts," he mumbled as he tightened the belt and began preparing an needle.
A soft moan escaped your lips.
Despite his frantic state, hearing even just a sound from your mouth gave Donatello enough hope to keep going.
"STRIKER! I need that EDTA now!"
"I-I'm coming!"
He ran over, the bottle clutched in his rough hand.
Donatello quickly took the EDTA and pulled some into the prepared syringe. He then took your unharmed arm and slid the cold needle through your skin and into a vein.
"Please don't leave me, not yet."
Striker stood over the two, his worried face frozen.
Donatello worked quickly, stitching, sterilizing, and wrapping your wound. The EDTA would need a minute to work. He just hoped he wasn't too late. The others had been woken up for the commotion, panicking as they found out what happened. Each said a silent prayer as they watched Donnie quickly labor over you. Eventually, there was nothing more that could be done than to wait.
Leonardo quietly walked over to Donatello. "She'd be more comfortable in her bed. Do you want me to-"
"No, I'll take her."
Picking you up, Donnie carried you backed to your room and laid you down. His red, puffy eyes looked you over as he brushed a few locks from your face.
"Please come back to me," his hoarse voice whispered. His face hovered over yours for a few seconds before he placed his lips gently on your cheek. "I... need you."
Leonardo walked in, standing behind his brother. "We're taking turns staying up with her, try to go and get some rest."
Donnie swallowed as he slowly stood up. "Just...come get me for my shift."
Leo bit his lip; he wasn't sure if Donnie was in a stable place mentally to be able to watch.
"...Of course."
With that, Donnie slowly walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. As he turned, Striker was there waiting for him.
"How is she??"
Donatello ignored the question, a more pressing matter on his mind. He raised his swollen eyes to meet Striker's.
"How much arsenic was released before she stopped?" Donatello asked.
"I-I don't know, it all happened so fast! S-she said she wanted to do it herself and-"
SLAM
Donatello's fist made contact with Striker's face.
Striker went flying back.
"YOU IDIOT! What did you think was going to happen?? That the tracker would just magically disappear?"
Striker looked up at Donatello, his eyes wide and in shock.
"I-m sorry! I didn't know!"
"She might die because of you!"
"I-I didn't-"
"She might die!" Donatello cried out again, sobbing as he fell to his knees. "I can't lose this woman, Striker. I can't. I love her."
Striker raised an eyebrow as he slowly rose back to his feet. The turtle let out another heart-wrenching sob, unable to contain the overwhelming emotions that had been held back the past few minutes.
"I can't! I-I can't lose her. I don't know what I'm going to do if I do."
Kneeling down beside him, Striker placed a calloused hand on Donatello's shoulder. "I know...I know you can't...and I'm sorry."
----- *Transition that I am way too tired to think of*-----
"Mama mia pizzeria peperroni and a cheese," Mikey hummed to himself as he worked a pizza dough ball between his hands. In times of desperation and stress, the perfect solution was homemade pizza. Granted, the orange-masked turtle was greatly lacking in his pizza-creating skills, but he had been improving. With Donatello a mess, Leonardo dead-set, and Ralph emotionally constipated, Michaelangelo figured that everyone could use a pick me up.
"What are ya making?"
"AH!"
Mikey jumped back, his dough ball went flying up and hit the ceiling.
Small Emile stood besides him and giggled lightly, "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."
Mikey grinned and quickly pulled the doughball down, "No worries, just be sure not to sneak up on me like that!"
She nodded and shifted uneasily, "I-is (y/n) gonna be alright?"
The turtle paused his dough kneading for a moment, "...I don't know, but I certainly hope so. And hey, Donnie's the best doc around, he's putting up quite a fight for her."
Another smile crept up on Emile's face, "Heh...good." She peered over the counter at the doughball, "Do you mind if I help?"
Mikey nodded, "Sure you can! But I'm warning you, pizza is a delicate art that requires 100% focus. You can NOT slack off during it. Luckily for you, I am a pizza MASTER."
Hello lovelies!
Been a hot minute, hasn't it? I hope everyone is doing well and staying safe during all this craziness! I know how hectic it can get. Be sure to take care of yourself, because you deserve it!
Be sure to vote and comment what you thought about this chapter! We only have a few left until this book is finished!
Also, listen to the song attached. I quite like it >-> It's got all the angsty feels.
Thank you,
OnlyFoolsLove