Cold Fire Rising

Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

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April hadn't stopped crying, her body draped over him, head under his chin. It had taken most of his energy talking to his brothers, so he just kept his bandaged arms around her small form and held her, wanting to speak but managing only sighs. That was tiring, too. Everything made him so tired. Keeping his eyes open was a struggle. But he did it because he needed to see them all.

Honeycutt had adjusted the bed so he was in a upward reclining position, which made it much easier for all the hugging. All the hugging. He hadn't had that much touch since he was a kid. He soaked it up like a balm, he held it like a gem, the corners of his mouth quirking up all on their own. It didn't matter that the fatigue was so fierce that he was battling it like an enemy. Their faces mattered. Their smiles. Their chattering and laughing, and yes, crying.

It was hard to talk. He felt so, so heavy. He wanted to sleep. His body wanted to get away from the world. He ignored it.

April hiccuped, mumbled something, before sobbing freshly. He felt her lips move against his neck and the vibration seemed to say that she missed him and she was so sorry and she tried to reach his mind and it was so scary.

Desperate, he lifted his very heavy right hand to drop against her head, feeling her hair slide over his fingers. He drew in a breath, let out a huff. Damn it. Stay awake! Talk to her! Answer her! It's okay, April!

April, stop. It's okay. It's okay, sis. You're awesome.

He felt her entire body stiffen, felt shock roll off her and tickle against him.

A heartbeat. Then. M-Mike? Was...was that you?

Wait. Was it? How was... how did... was that... did he...?

April? Can you hear me?

...yes. Oh my god, Mikey?

A-April?

Mike? What's happening?

Michelangelo blinked, heavily, and felt, deep down, a vibrating rippling feeling. The exact same ripple over the koi pond, over the changing neural network. His head was buzzing. His head was burning. His breathing quickened a little too much.

Immediately, there was a sharp, irritating beeping sound.

April pulled back her eyes wide, afraid and worried and confused.

Donatello's voice floated from somewhere. "Shit... shit, what happened? What – Mikey, can you hear me? Relax! Slow your breathing! Slow breaths!" Hands gripping his shoulders. What happened? What about his breathing? Oh. Ohhh. He sucked in air, realized it wasn't working right. He felt his body start to shake. Craaap. He gulped in more air, and it was like something was blocking it from inside his chest. He could feel his lungs spasm. He felt his eyes widen. Why couldn't he breathe? What the hell?

His eyes were blurring. No. Wait. Everything around him was blurry. He stretched his neck, tried to sit up more. He couldn't move.

Something was pressed over his face, covering his mouth. Suddenly, air. Air! Air filled his mouth and nose and he sucked it down greedily. "Easy, Mikey, easy." That was Donnie again. "Slow, okay? You're displaying signs of an anxiety attack, so you need to go slow. You're shaking. Slow breaths will help. I'm right here. I'm holding on to you."

Anxiety attack? What? No, no, it... wait...

Was it? Was he freaking out because he got telepathic at April? Was what Neural Mike said true? The M'Kari, the psionic web. Was he... did he have alien organic tech in his brain? Because of that funny green rock? Was he...was he psionic? Psychic? Holy shit. Holy shit! He was a superhero! He had superpowers! Gods and Buddha, he – okay, calm down, Mikey. They don't know anything. Go easy, right? He kept gulping in wonderful oxygen. He felt his body stop shaking. Someone was talking to him. He blinked. He followed the sound. He was looking straight into Donnie's eyes, which had gone huge and glimmery. Something told him that it would help, so he kept looking at Donnie, looking at Donnie, who was now smiling. "That's it, Mikey, keep looking at me. Okay, okay, we're good. I'm going to take away the oxygen now. Okay? Keep taking slow breaths."