Song: Fully Alive - Flyleaf

I rub my forehead roughly to make my head stop spinning. Donatello stole a ton of blood from me so he can run multiple tests at once. It has taken its toll on me, and I feel close to passing out.

   "All your vital signs are correct, as well as your blood work," Donatello announces, pacing over to me. He looks me over for the tenth time. "Nothing is wrong with you. It must be a mental illness. You just need to forget about it, and eventually you won't faint anymore."

   I look up at him, biting my lip. "But Donnie, I never think about it. Too hard, at least. It happens when I least expect it."

   "It must be your subconscious," Donatello comments. "You've been overthinking it, so it gets stored in your hippocampus. It reacts whenever you're overworked or stressed out."

   I nod slowly. What he is saying makes sense, considering all I did was work whenever I left the turtles. It was a non-stop cycle of being a waitress, to practicing ballet and Ninjutsu. Though the latter were both enjoyable, they became more forced than usual, just so I wouldn't forget what I had learned. Overall, I never actually had fun. I just did what I had to.

   "I guess," I murmur, fiddling with my fingers. My head was slowly clearing up from the blood loss. "Thanks, Donnie," I say gratefully with a small smile.

   Donatello returns the smile. "I'm here to help. Let me know if any new symptoms-" he is cut off by the sound of Leonardo's yelling.

   "Donnie! We need your help! Now!"

   Raphael bursts into the room with Leonardo running after him. The red-clad turtle gently places a figure onto Donatello's metal table. To my horror, I recognize Michelangelo.

   "Mikey!" I gasp. I am at his side in an instant, my gaze locked on his bleeding arm. I tap it lightly and see blood stain my finger. The wound hasn't even clotted yet.

   I have to stop my throat from closing up with emotion. "What happened?" I ask the two breathless turtles as Donatello sets to work.

"Bebop and Rocksteady weren't playing games this time," Leonardo answers, talking more to Donatello since I have no idea who he is referring to. "They're guarding something. We tried to get passed them, but Rocksteady injured Mikey, and we had to retreat."

"What did he do to him?" Donatello inquires as he cleans the bleeding wound. It doesn't do much good, because it continues to leak red liquid.

"He threw him into a cement wall!" Raphael blurts out. His eyes are drowning in so much sorrow that it's a shock to me. I have never seen him care about Michelangelo so much.

"And Rocksteady got his horn caught in Mikey's arm," Leonardo adds, less sharp about it. He shudders. "He didn't stand a chance, but he still tried. He fought well."

My heart begins racing. Leonardo makes it sound like Michelangelo is dying. "B-but he's gonna be ok, right?" I stammer, tears flooding my eyes.

Donatello hesitates.

"Right?!" Raphael demands more aggressively, watching Donatello's fingers.

"Of course he will." Donatello doesn't look at either of us. But if it's because he is focused or just flat out avoiding our eyes, I'm not sure.

We sit in silence as the techy-turtle works his magic. He stitches and bandages the wound to protect it from Michelangelo's rough-housing. He places an ice-pack on the turtle's head and backs away.

"I've done all I can," he announces in a slightly anxious voice.

"Then why isn't he awake?!" Raphael snaps. He hasn't left his little brother's side for a second, so Donatello was forced to work around him. As he leans closer to Michelangelo's face, I hear him whisper, "I can't lose you, too."

What is he talking about? Who else has he lost?

   "He's sleeping," Donatello explains. "That fight took more than energy from him. Just let him be for a few hours. I'll stay with him."

   "I want to stay," I speak up immediately. I subtly brush my tears away before meeting Donatello's gaze.

   But he shakes his head. "You lost blood too, remember? You need rest. And so do you," he adds, flashing a firm glance at Raphael.

   The red-clad turtle crosses his arms. He gives Michelangelo one last look and walks out of the laboratory.

   "Come on, Lizzy," Leonardo murmurs softly. He places a hand on my back and leads me out the door as well.

   He takes me to the spare room. "Will you be alright in here?" he asks.  He looks concerned; he must be thinking about my apparent illness.

   "Yeah," I sniffle. I hate crying in front of them. Especially Leonardo. It's embarrassing.

   I pull away from his touch and roll a mat out. I situate it the same way I did the last time I was here. The only thing different is-

   "You need a pillow," Leonardo comments, pointing out my exact thoughts.

   I shake my head modestly. I don't want him going to a bunch of trouble for me. "No, it's alright. Really," I reply, rubbing the rest of the tears from my cheeks.

   Leonardo smiles faintly. "Hold on." He disappears and comes back with a few seconds later with a pillow. He bends down beside the mat and places it at the head.

   "You didn't have to do that," I murmur. "But thank you."

   I expect him to go, but he sits down beside the mat. He pats the pillow. "Lay your head down here."

   I give him a weird look, but do as he orders. "Are you going to tell me a bedtime story?" I tease.

   "Trust me, you don't want me to do that," he chuckles.  He pulls my hair out of the bun it's in and starts gently combing his fingers through it.

   I close my eyes at the satisfaction it brings me. I feel my sadness ebb away even more each time his fingers start a new trail.

   "Mikey will be alright," Leonardo reassures me softly. "He may be an idiot sometimes, but he's strong. Stronger than all the rest of us put together."

   I simply let out a small sound in reply. His hypnotizing motions are pulling me under. I no longer have control of myself.

   Something about Leonardo's touch makes all of my problems go away. I no longer fearful, nor anxious of what tomorrow might bring. I'm just calm. Absolutely, completely calm.

   I hear Leonardo chuckle again, before I finally doze off.

   Darkness surrounds me. It does not, however, totally hide the structures around me. I am sitting in an alley. Pain shoots up one of my legs, so I can't stand even if I try. I feel like death, or at least close to it.

   My mind flashes with haunting memories of pink, brain-like aliens. I recall a woman screaming and an eruption of evil laughter. A set of sharp, glistening blades sends a chill up my spine.

   My head is pounding so much that I have to stop thinking. I glance around nervously. An alley is the most dangerous place I can be, but I'm in too much agony to move.

   I happen to glance down at my hand. No, it isn't my hand... It's my brother's!

   I wake up with a jolt. The dream. It was so real.

   Only one thought dictates my mind, once again: my brother is alive! I just know he is. He has to be. Why else would I keep dreaming such strange things about him? And why else would it feel so life-like?

   Even if he isn't alive, I know the general area of where that alley is located. It won't hurt to check.

   I have to go find him.

   "Leo!" I gasp, but when I look around, I realize he isn't here. He must have gone to bed.

   I pull my hair back up into a bun and scramble to my feet. Making sure I have my weapons in my belt, I step out of the room.

   I can hear soft snoring drifting throughout the lair. I think about getting Leonardo to go with me, but decide against it when I realize he will just stop me.

   I don't bother considering what could happen if I'm wrong. There's a voice inside my head telling me to follow the dream, no matter what.

   I start to creep through the main room. I keep glancing over my shoulder nervously to make sure no one is there. I am only a meter away from the exit when I hear Raphael's voice.

   "Where do you think you're going?"

   I spin around to see the red-clad turtle standing at the kitchen entrance. He looks exhausted, but he attempts to disguise it with an annoyed expression.

   "What are you still doing up?" I veer away from his question.

   He seems to get a bit awkward. "I was worrying about Mikey," he admits. Then his moment of weakness slips away, replaced with his usual toughness. "Don't change the subject! Why are you sneaking out?"

   "I'm not sneaking out," I defend myself. "I'm don't live here, and you're not my dad. I can leave whenever I want."

   "Then why are you acting like you're not supposed to leave?" Raphael asks, his bandana raising like an eyebrow.  He crosses his arms.

   I bite my lip. "Because I know Leo will try and stop me," I confess.

   "That must mean it's a really stupid mission," he points out harshly.

   "It's not stupid," I retort, though I'm not completely sure about that. "I just... I had a dream, and I-"

   "This is because of a dream?" Raphael shakes his head. "I swear, Liz, it's like you've lost your mind. You sound even crazier than Mikey right now."

   At the mention of his name, we both fall into an uncomfortable, remorseful silence. Then I speak up again.

   "Well, I'm going. I have to. There's something huge happening, and I feel like this is just the beginning of it."

   My words seem to chill Raphael. He looks straight into my eyes, his tone suddenly very serious. "Master Splinter would say that exact same thing," he mumbles.

   Master Splinter. I haven't seen him at all since I arrived. I feel a pang of worry. Is he alright?

   "Where is Master Splinter anyway?" I ask as I glance around the lair.

   The tough turtle's eyes immediately flood with pain. "He's grieving over Karai," he explains slowly. "He can't accept the fact that she's a mindless mutant now, that the Shredder would do something so cruel to her.  Now he just hides in his room and meditates the days away.  I don't think anything will ever get him out of it."

   I frown sympathetically. I don't know Master Splinter much at all. A while back he told me I didn't deserve to know Ninjutsu, and he always exercised mistrust towards me. But I have grown to respect him, and it bothers me to hear that he is hurting.

   I bow my head in a short vigil for him. "I'm sorry," I mutter, feeling like it's my fault somehow.  If I had still been around, maybe I would have been able to help Karai, even if I'm not too fond of her.

  "So am I." Raphael is overly guarded once again, like he was before Michelangelo got hurt. Typical hothead.

   The red-clad turtle unsheathes his sais. "Now, if you're leaving, then I'm going with you. Not for your sake, but because Leo might kill me if I let you go by yourself."

   "Gee, Raph, how thoughtful," I sigh sarcastically, but I'm not about to tell him no. He frightens me a bit, to say the least.

   Raphael and I, our weapons at the ready, head to the surface.