Non-Mutation (Book Four)

Chapter 22: Dragon's Blood

A bright red resin obtained from a certain plant family. In folk medicine, it is thought to promote healing of wounds and to stop bleeding.

🐉

Raphael gets back later than he planned, although he could have been home sooner if he hadn't purposely dawdled on the way back. Leonardo sleeps on the couch, one arm hanging off the edge while the other holds onto Destiny's hand. She caresses his head, humming a soft, shaky tune under her breath.

Raphael exhales and wanders over to her, his steps hesitant. "How'd you get him to rest?" he asks.

She looks up, a slight smirk on her tired face. "Splinter gave me tea that helps him sleep. I gave it to Leo. Knocked him out in a few minutes."

Raphael smiles a little as he glances down at Leonardo. The blue-masked turtle shifts and mutters something as he rubs his cheek against her leg before going still again. Raphael looks back up at Destiny and takes a deep breath, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Destiny, uh..." He swallows hard and her ears perk towards him even if her face doesn't. "Look, I'm sorry about what I said during that fight. I was harsh and I made you out to be the—" He stops and drags his hand over his face. "I didn't mean any of it. I was just—"

"Thanks, Raph," she interrupts, giving him one of the saddest smiles that he has ever seen. "I just want to move past it, okay?"

"Forgive me?"

She nods. "Yeah."

Her expression is still pained and he wishes that bandages for a wounded soul existed. Either that or something to stop him from running his stupid mouth. She watches him for a few seconds and her eyes are wrought with knowing. He feels his stomach twist and he averts his eyes as Leonardo lets out another groan in his sleep.

"I'm gonna check on the others," Raphael says, jerking his thumb over to the bedrooms. He kneels down and cups the back of Destiny's head, bringing her close enough to press a kiss to her forehead. "Love you, little sister."

Her tail wags and her scarred features soften. "Love you too, big brother." He turns and heads towards the laboratory, but she speaks again. "Hey, Raph?"

"Yeah?" he asks, glancing over his shoulder.

Her ears flatten a little. "Whatever you're doing...please, be careful."

He can't get himself to reply even as his skin prickles. He nods and takes off towards the lab again. The doors have been left ajar and when he peeks inside, he finds Donatello and Sarina slumped against their lab table. Donatello's arm is wrapped around his girlfriend's body, her head tucked near his chin. He whistles through the gap in his teeth and Sarina lets out tiny, hiccuping snores.

Raphael slips inside, steps soft. He grabs a blanket off one of the cabinets and drapes it over his siblings as gently as he can. They stir, but only to move closer to each other. Raphael hurries out and shuts the door behind him, en route to find Michelangelo.

His littlest brother's door is closed tightly, but he can hear a feminine voice talking behind it.

"Harry Potter or the Hunger Games? They're both so good, ugh...but...if I had to choose..." There's dramatic music behind her words, chanting and growing until there's a huge breath. "Harry Potter!" A fanfare blasts and Michelangelo giggles. "I had to choose it! Gryffinpuff for life, dudes."

"Mikey?" Raphael asks.

The voice cuts off and there's shuffling for a moment before the door opens. Michelangelo peeks out at his brother, his mask absent and a blanket draped over his head like a cloak. He flashes a weak smile.

"Hey Raph," he greets. "Waddup?"

Raphael shrugs. "I thought I'd check on you." He frowns. "Why aren't you asleep?"

"Well, I had this nightmare and I tried to ignore it, but I couldn't. So I decided to watch my Lisey's videos to make me feel better," he says with a sheepish grin.

Any other day, Raphael would roll his eyes and remind his brother that that YouTube girl isn't his, that she doesn't know he exists, all that, but he knows better than to do that right now.

"Right...well, I'm glad she makes you happy, or...something." He glances at Michelangelo's t-phone, the bright-eyed blonde on the screen flashing a peace sign up at him.

Michelangelo puckers his lips and tilts his head. Raphael fidgets a little and looks at his feet.

"Does Taylor make you happy, Raph?" he asks.

Raphael shrugs. "Yeah...she does."

"And you really think you love her?"

He stays quiet, wrestling with whether or not he's ready to admit it. He's tired of denying it, but he's unsure of what the other option means for him. She's still with the enemy, but he's gotten to know the girl that she is when she isn't with the gang. She's got good in her, deep inside, even if she doesn't believe it yet.

Raphael nods, his cheeks getting hot.

Michelangelo smiles. "It's good to have someone like that. I'm happy for you."

"Really?"

He nods and his smile gets brighter, erasing the exhaustion from his features. "Yeah, totally. I could tell how much you care for her when we ran into her on that roof." His grin falters. "But...I'm scared about the Purple Dragons. What if Taylor gets into more trouble with Hun?"

"There's nothing to be scared of. She's tough. She'll be fine," Raphael insists.

"Yeah...I guess." He shrugs his shoulders. "I just don't want Taylor to be afraid anymore."

Michelangelo's face flickers with concern and Raphael can't hide his confused frown. "Taylor? Afraid? I mean, sort of, but she's a tough chick. She's gotta be to be in that life."

Michelangelo purses his lips. "I don't know, dude. Gang life is a life of fear, right? There's a lot of bad stuff that can happen if you don't listen to the boss and I bet she's been forced to do terrible things because of it." He shakes his head and leans against his doorframe.

Raphael can't say that he ever thought of it in that way. "Huh..." he mumbles. He tries to look a little more positive than normal. "But, it's gonna be okay, little brother."

His lips twitch a little. "Thanks, Raph."

"You should get some sleep."

"You too. You've been working hard."

Raphael nods, starting to walk away when he stops and turns back around. Michelangelo's sly smirk is making him nervous, like there's a tripwire waiting in Raphael's bedroom or some other prank is on the way.

"What?"

Michelangelo motions to his neck. "Busy, busy, Raph." He snickers. "Goodnight!"

He shuts the door before Raphael can say anything else. The turtle makes a beeline for the bathroom and switches on the light, bringing his reflection in the mirror into view. His eyes widen and he mouths a silent curse at the sight of his neck, hands prodding at the slightly sore spots. 

He rests his head on the edge of the sink and mutters another curse. "Way to go, Raphael. Way to go." He manages a glance at himself again. At least they aren't that big, he thinks.