i_speak_softly | Twenty-second Theory [Voice/Action]

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Twenty-second Theory [Voice/Action]

((Forward-dated to tomorrow morning. Or whenever the draftees get sent back from the battle. Follows from this.))

[Donatello opens his eyes, and there's color. He's in his apartment again.

Raph is beside him, still in the deathlike sleep of torpor. The bandages on his wing are a little reddened with blood.

And Don feels cold. He no longer has a button for requesting medical supplies; he hasn't yet learned to use healing magic.

But he knows someone who can use it, and while his shell-cells may not have followed him back from the battlefield, his journal is lying within reach.

He can't be bothered to filter.]

Isamu... I need your help.

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[Isamu gets the feeling that he isn't needed all that badly now that they've found out Raph can't be magically healed. He gets out of Donatello's way but stays close to the bedside just in case he needs to, well, hold anything.

He glances down at the still motionless turtle.] Sorry about this, Sensei.

[Yes, Isamu, he does need you to hold something. He stretches out Raph's wing as carefully as possible, pinching the upper edge lightly between his fingers.] Isamu, hold this. Just like this. Naoki, hold the pan underneath.

[As they move into position, Don reaches to plunge his instruments into the steaming water. The dagger he leaves there, to heat. The scalpel he withdraws after a moment, and poises it above the last shreds of tissue connecting Raph's wing to his body. A bone saw, it turns out, would have been superfluous.]

[Deep breath.]

[And cut.]

[Naoki moves the pan as instructed, his mouth flinching preemptively when Don moves the instruments into the hot water. His eyes dart to the side, unable to watch the process.]

[Something pulls at his subconscious from the silent depths of dark oceans, tugging him into something solid, growing sharper, hotter and colder at the same time. Breathless. A distant part of him recognizes it as pain, and he grapples for the darkness, blissful unfeeling abyss. Hold on. Don't let go.

He doesn't know how long he's been holding his breath, fighting with every inch of his being to hold onto the torpor. His lungs ache, his bones ache, his head aches from concentration.

Then the tug wrenches him away, tears him in half, his nerves on fire. Agony.

His eyelids fly open, unseeing, and he gasps for air with a scream, trying to pull into himself, only to be pulled from another direction. He balks against the ropes with another painful gasp of air, his suddenly racing pulse making the blood flow freely from the incision.]

[Isamu does as he's asked, holding the wing in place. He winces as Don prepares to do the cutting but is unable to get himself to look away.

It had to have been damn painful, given Raph's reaction. As the injured turtle struggles, he glances up at Don.] It's okay, dude. We gotcha. It's done now.

[The wing comes away in Isamu's hands, and Raph screams, arching against his bonds.

In one swift move, Don leans forward, spreading his hand on Raph's shell above his wingjoints, and resting all his weight on it. With his other hand, he reverses the scalpel and pushes it handle-first at Naoki.]

Naoki, the knife. Quickly.

[Naoki takes the scalpel from him and picks up the knife from the hot water all in one immediate movement, placing the handle of it into Don's hand immediately.]

[Don's fingers close on the knife. Another steadying breath, and he presses the flat of the red-hot blade to the bleeding wound.]

Three seconds, Raph. One - two - there.

[He pulls the knife from the seared flesh, and holds it out to Naoki. As soon as it's out of his hand, he'll sink to his knees, shaking and pressing his forehead to the blankets.]

[There's really nothing he can say, so Isamu just rubs the top of Raph's shell while keeping his eyes on the other two. Comforting words were never his forte.]

[When it's over, Raph lays there, listless and panting, the world nothing but white. Cold, even though he's soaked in sweat, shivering, jaw set like a wire trap until he tastes blood in his mouth.

He presses his eyes closed again, choking out a groan.]

[Naoki goes about dropping the knife into the pan before carrying it out to the kitchen quietly. In which he stares down at it hard for a moment before he returns. He brushes past Isamu, pausing to rest a hand on the rope, voice low.]

Is it fine to get rid of these now?

[It's barely a whisper.] Please.

[Isamu just holds the detached wing awkwardly. Should he toss it out? Would Raph want to maybe... keep it or something?

Not sure what to do next, he settles for setting it down on a nearby rag before helping Naoki with the ropes.]

[Naoki glances over at him briefly with a tiny nod as he goes about removing the ropes, setting them aside after he does.]

[Without looking up, Don reaches out to grab Isamu's arm.] Wrap the end. Put it in the icebox.

Right. [He knew that. Quickly locating some bandages, Isamu wraps the bloodied end carefully and looks for the aforementioned icebox.

Once that's taken care of, he returns to the bedside to see if Naoki still needs any help.]

[Naoki's finished putting all the rope aside for now, is now studying where Raph was restrained to assure there aren't any marks left. He blinks as Isamu comes over, nods down at the places where the ropes were.] Have a look, too?

[Have a look at what? Isamu is blanking out a little, but he does as asked. Thankfully, the blankets had done their job of keeping much chafing from occurring with the ropes.]

Think he's okay. As far as his limbs go, anyway.

[Raph blinks the water from his eyes, still not quite clearing his vision. When Isamu's shadow comes across his field of view, he recognizes that voice. His smile quickly turns into a wince, voice thin and shaking from the tremors taking over his body.]

W're you doin'...m-mama's boy?

[...Even now, Raph? ;;

Isamu moves immediately to lay a hand on the turtle's shell again, expression surprisingly stern.] Nothing, man. Now keep still. Take some slow, deep breaths.

[Of course!

Raph closes his eyes again, curling into himself a little. He knows the meditation techniques. Back at home they never had the luxury of painkillers stronger than tylenol donated by generous friends, and all four of them have suffered through broken bones this way.

But this isn't just a broken bone, it's a broken part of his entire being, like your soul's been ripped in two. It makes every inch of him throb with agony, tearing his mind from any form of concentration.

Shell, he wishes Splinter was here to help him. The thought brings on the threat of tears, but he won't open his eyes again.]

[Don reaches forward, his fingers searching across the blankets. When he finds Raph's elbow, he pulls it back, so he can hold his brother's hand. Steady pressure.]

[Focus, Raph. Everything will be okay.]

[Naoki stands quietly, unsure what he can offer or do besides rest a hand on Raph's shell wordlessly.]

You're a piece of work. Both of you.

[Not the time, Isamu. Meditating through pain is hard, and your snide remarks aren't helping. He'll raise his head just long enough to give you a glare that clearly says shut up.]

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Twenty-second Theory [Voice/Action]

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