Death

Pouring himself yet another cup of coffee, Lazarus sighed tiredly as some of the warm liquid splashed outside of the cup.  He didn’t bother grabbing anything to clean up the small mess, instead picking up his now full mug as he walked back to his bedroom to sit in the same seat he’d been staying in for nearly two days.  Another sigh slipped past the blond’s lips before he took the first sip of his freshly poured coffee, setting the cup down on a nearby end table as he looked over towards a deathly still figure lying in his bed.

Donatello’s injuries had, in fact, been fatal, and by the time Timothy had arrived to help, his condition had worsened.  Just breathing had become a struggle, and each time Donny coughed, more blood spilled out of his mouth.  Staying conscious was growing harder to do with each passing moment, and the moment Timothy laid eyes on his patient, it was clear what he had to do.

Biting into and getting Donny’s blood was certainly easy enough, but getting the dying man to swallow the blood Timothy was trying to offer to him took a bit more patience with all the coughing he was doing. Still, after a solid puncture on the vampire’s wrist was made, their blood mixed in Donatello’s mouth before he finally choked down a few successful gulps.  It wasn’t long after that…

Lazarus firmly tapped his fist at the side of his head several times, deliberately pulling his mind from the memory.  The noticeable lack of sleep made it harder to keep his thoughts from slipping back to that awful moment, and the coffee didn’t seem to be helping much anymore.  Gritting his teeth as he got back up, he decided to walk over to physically check in on Donny.  It had been a few hours since the last checkup, after all.

Leaning by the side of the bed, Lazarus hesitated momentarily before reaching out a hand to touch Donny’s. When their hands connected, a disappointed groan rumbled in Laz’s throat. It was still just as cold as yesterday.

But before he was to follow through with his usual routine, two knocks were heard, followed by–

DING DONG!!

Lazarus didn’t even bother getting up from the bedside when he heard his front door open and close.  He knew it was Timothy who was stopping by to see how the process was going.  He’d instructed the hospital worker to use the knock and doorbell combination so he’d know who was entering to avoid allowing someone dangerous in instead.

As Timothy’s footsteps entered the room, Lazarus stood up, running an uneasy hand through his hair, fluffing it into an even messier style.  Sure, Timothy had warned him it might take up to three days for Donatello to show signs of the curse working, but with each hour that passed, Lazarus had to wonder if Timothy had gotten Donny to drink enough.  It wasn’t easy just waiting to see if the whole process had failed.

“A..A-Are you..” Lazarus started with a heavy stammer, losing his confidence for a moment before continuing.  “Are you sure you gave him e-enough?”

“Ah, yes, I’m quite sure,” Timothy answered, taking his place and kneeling on the other side of the bed to get a good look at Donatello.  “I know it’s hard waiting, but it shouldn’t be much longer until he wakes up.”

“How?  How are you so sure??”  Lazarus’s voice started to get louder the more he asked.  Maybe the amount of coffee he’d consumed in the last forty-eight hours, mixed with the severe lack of sleep, was beginning to affect him, but being kind and courteous wasn’t possible anymore–not with the thought of visiting Donny’s grave weighing on him.  “What if you didn’t?  W-What if he couldn’t even swallow what you were trying to give him??”

The scientist’s body started to shake as all the haunting thoughts and memories he’d been avoiding began to seep in.  Donatello died in his arms two days ago, and he was just supposed to be okay with waiting for another day to see if Timothy was right or wrong.  A frustrated growl was heard from Lazarus as he gripped his hands in his hair and started pacing in small circles, unable to keep himself still any longer.  A small trickle of blood dripped past his chin as he bit his lips in his best effort to keep from shouting out anything unnecessary past what he’d asked.

Timothy rubbed nervously at the back of his neck, keeping his eye on Lazarus as he paced.  His behavior was becoming more erratic, and it was clear that Lazarus desperately needed rest before he snapped.

“Lazarus, I think you need some sleep.  If you want, I can watch him while–” but Timothy was harshly cut off when he earned a furious stare as his answer.  “Ah, okay, no sleep then, but at the very least, you should take a moment to sit down.”

“I’ve been sitting for two days!!  I’m d-done with sitting down!!” Lazarus snapped back.  “And why won’t you answer me?!  How do you–”

It was faint, but a rustling sound came from the bed, immediately pulling Lazarus’s attention away from the sweaty man he was shouting at.  Timothy wiped his forehead, a wave of relief washing over him as his attention too was drawn towards the bed.  It seemed that what they had been waiting for had finally happened.

“D-Don?” Lazarus’s voice was shaky as he latched his hand onto Donatello’s.  The once unmoving body had subtly turned, facing more towards the blond now.  “Are you there?  Dondon??”

A few confused, scratchy groans came from the newly turned vampire before his eyes finally opened for the first time since his death.  The moment they landed on Lazarus, Donatello couldn’t help but try and reach out for him.  Of course, when he realized the other was already holding his hand, he settled for weakly squeezing the tan hand back.

“I was sleeping, you know.”  Donatello’s voice was raspy, probably still recovering, but it was still him.  “Did you really have to be so loud, Laz?”

Unable to respond with his own witty response, Lazarus was overcome with intense emotions, his eyes filled to the brim with tears. He let out a loud sob and lurched forward to hug Donatello tightly.  The redhead hugged Lazarus back, allowing him to cry and wail as he needed to.

With that, Timothy stood up, making Donny jump slightly in surprise at his presence.  He thought he’d heard another voice that Lazarus was yelling at, but Donatello had entirely forgotten about it in his delirious state of regaining consciousness. Timothy waved awkwardly at Donatello as he relaxed, realizing he and Lazarus were safe with the extra person in the room.

“I know you’ve just woken up, but I’ve got an important request for you before I forget,” Timothy said with a smile.  “I’ll go and  inform Lady Calla you’re awake now, but once you’re stronger, I’m afraid you’ll have to come with me alone.”  Donatello’s eyebrows pinned together suspiciously, uncertain of what awaited him when he recovered.  “Don’t worry!  It won’t be for too terribly long.  But please let me know once you’re feeling better so I can come get you.”

“...All right,” Donatello replied, giving Timothy a curt nod.

Sensing that neither man wanted him there for the moment, Timothy quickly nodded back before hurrying over to the bedroom door to leave.  This moment was for Donatello and Lazarus after what they’d both been through in the past few days.  He’d already informed Lazarus how to take care of Donatello when he woke up in case Timothy wasn’t there, so there was little he could do for them.

Timothy didn’t get too far when he heard a shaky ‘thank you’ that came from Lazarus.  He couldn’t help but smile as he returned the gratitude with a gentle ‘you’re welcome’ before he left the house to let the two have some time alone.