Cold Fire Rising

Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

----

"Anything that's human is mentionable, and anything that is mentionable can be more manageable. When we can talk about our feelings, they become less overwhelming, less upsetting, and less scary. The people we trust with that important talk can help us know that we are not alone." ― Fred Rogers

"The trauma said, 'Don't write these poems. Nobody wants to hear you cry about the grief inside your bones." ― Andrea Gibson

"The conflict between the will to deny horrible events and the will to proclaim them aloud is the central dialectic of psychological trauma." ― Judith Lewis Herman

"Sometimes loneliness makes the loudest noise." ― Aaron Ben-Ze'ev

----

One month after their epic return home, everyone had settled, and routine had sunk back in. Leatherhead visited more frequently, surprising everyone else and absolutely delighting Michelangelo, who climbed all over his huge friend as they watched old B movies together. Leatherhead was intrigued by the Cadranian medical equipment in Donatello's lab and brought over some things of his own. Hearing of his best friend's crisis seemed to worry him desperately, and over the turtles' objections, he was determined to make sure that the lair was not only equipped with long-term care faculties, but that all the turtles were brought up to speed on basic emergency and intensive care. The entire time, a teddy bear was clutched in one paw while Mikey sat comfortably in the other paw, nearly blissfully naïve of the lectures and discussions between Donatello and Leatherhead.

After Master Splinter had cleared them for patrol, Michelangelo was the first to dash out of the lair yelling in pure excitement and tossing poor jokes back at his brothers. Leonardo, deliberately slow, glanced at Donatello with intense worry, their usual signal for We need to talk about our family member – but was quickly shoved aside by Raphael, growling and determined to tag their youngest brother by the heel.

Along rooftops and fire escapes, they were giddy, the wind whispering over their thick skin and happily ruffling their mask tails as if just as thrilled to welcome them back. Leonardo paused first, crouched at an edge, hand held up in that universal signal. On the roof just one jump away, Foot-Bot soldiers swarmed, around two dozen, maybe more.

"Plan?" Don asked.

"Smash!" Raph grinned.

"Booyakasha!" Mike breathed.

Silent, Leo gestured, steady, steady... GO.

The four leaped directly into the mass of black and began their no-holds barred, all-out brawl. Their whoops and cries of delight were soft, low, adjusting to the low howl of the wind and the total silence around the surrounding buildings. Ten bots were quickly down.

"This is too easy!" Raphael yelled out, the first raised voice.

"Don't say thaaat," Michelangelo teased. "It always gets harder when someone says that!"

Half a dozen more poured in through a rooftop door.

Raph just spun his sai and said firmly, "YAY."

Mikey backflipped, vaulted off a soldier's back, kicked out, spun, sent three of them flying. Oh, this was so much easier than fighting—

He landed in a crouch near the roof's edge. He paused. His head suddenly hurt. The world quickly grew fuzzy and distant; he felt almost underwater; he felt suddenly, frighteningly separated from everything. He squinted, all his senses throbbing in confusion. Wait, what? No. But...no! The black-clad soldiers shimmered, they became scaly with a translucent sheen. They had claws. But...no. But...