For a third time, she forced her eye lids apart. A dazzling light beamed constantly into her pupils as her brain slowly turned back on. On the rim of her vision, the room turned clockwise while the middle spun in the opposite direction. She rolled her foggy head to rest on an ear as she attempted to focus her sight and comprehend her setting. As she continued to force her eyes to cooperate, she felt lightheaded. Around her, the room was darkened and damp; there was a repetitive drip that rang throughout the chamber. Ryan brought a hand close to her face for no particular reason. Her palm was blurry and her fingers seemed to move incredibly fast but left traces behind as if there were being dragged down. She opened her mouth to question this anomaly, but she didn't say anything.

Dropping her hand, the injured girl tried to focus on the last thing she could remember. She was walking home from the train station, nothing strange or new. But, then there was a scream. A horrible, terrifying scream that brought chills to her pale skin. The face of that man; it was so ghastly and horrid, who was he? Wait, he fell from the building. No. He was pushed off. There was a gang of people on the roof. They saw her and she ran behind a dumpster. Then, she was cornered and shot. When she got to the part with the bullets, Ryan expected her body to cry out in agony in remembrance to the arduous encounter. She waited for the searing pain and pulsating to begin; but it never came.

Now, that's weird. Shouldn't she still be in agonizing torment?

Running her frail hands all over her body from her shoulders to hips, she could hardly feel anything registering from her fingertips; were they numb too? What was happening?

Ryan, although her vision refuses to become definite and she couldn't understand what her hands were touching, rolled onto her side. After a few attempts to push herself upright, she succeeded. Her head was spinning with a sudden head rush and irregular blood flow. Cupping her hands over her dazed face, her mind seemed to lose all control of her motor functions. It was an unusual experience; she could move her arms and legs, but it felt as though someone else was moving them for her. It didn't feel as though she stood up, but she did. It didn't click in her head that she was staggering around the room, but she was. When she reached the far wall, she couldn't even feel that she stumbled and kicked an old lamp over in order to catch herself on the corner. Leaning on the edge, she peered her groggy head out and stared into nothingness.

By this point, her normal analytical and critical mind was lost to the overpowering effects of morphine. Ryan was able to hear the small thud of the lamp hitting the hard surface. There was a short hesitation before the lamp rolled too far and dropped off. The shatter of glass and the lamp shade cracking from years of abuse made Ryan smile such a goofy grin.

"What was that?" a voice asked.

She couldn't understand that the source was referring to her, so the girl simply glanced behind her at the broken lamp. The way the glass shards were spread out and the deep crack in the shade caused her to chuckle. "Oops," she whispered as she used the wall to slide down.

"I don't know," a second voice replied. "One of us should check it out."

"Rock, paper, scissors for it?"

"Sounds fair."

Ryan's eyes were still indubitably hazy and seemed to swim around, but she had a strong desire to pick up the glass; someone could step on it and hurt themselves. Her reasoning was good, however, when her hand lifted a chunk, it immediately cut her skin. Her grip around the fragment caused her fingers to be sliced as well. Still high on the morphine, she couldn't feel the pain. A thin layer of blood coated the edge of the chunk but even then she didn't let go.

"Damn," one of the voiced seemed to pout.

"Dude, you always choose rock!"

"Shut up Mikey," the voice was irritated.

There were heavy steps approaching her, but Ryan's only thought was to clean up the glass so the owner of the feet didn't step on it. She broke it, the cracked glass was her responsibility. In reality, she was moving a lot more slow than her mind was leading her to believe. Attempting to kick the shards away from the door, Ryan gently slid her leg across the ground, but still holding on to the huge fragment in her hand; she had already forgot it was in there.

"Oh crap," the voice gasped once the owner reached Ryan and the shattered lamp.

Turning her head to face the man, her eyes were that of a child; scared, alone, and awaiting the inevitable punishment. "I'm sorry," she answered with complete sincerity.

"Mikey, Mikey!" The muscular man knelt next to Ryan and quickly grabbed her wrist, "Get Donnie!"

"What, why?"

"Just do it!" he shouted to the second. "Hey, hey, gimme that," Ryan followed his hands around as he held her wrist tight and he tried to take the shard. Deep down, she knew to lessen her grip, but her hand didn't follow instructions. "What are you doing? Let go," he demanded more forcefully. The man pressed a huge thumb in her wrist to force her to let the glass piece fall.

"Hey," her fuzzy vision was dancing as she kept her gaze at the blood stained fragment. "Someone could get hurt from that," she answered weakly and very quietly.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked while maneuvering around her limp legs to enter the room. With her tiny wrist still in his hand, the man extended to the counter and grabbed a piece of cloth. Ryan wasn't sure if she imagined his growling in annoyance or if he actually did. "Hey, you awake?" After he changed position of his hand from holding her wrist to pressing down in her bleeding palm, he used his open hand to snap at her face.

Her eyes still weren't working correctly, but she picked up her head to the large man in front of her. "Am I dead?" was the first question that came to mind, so she initially wanted to know the answer.

"You will be if you keep playing with glass!" he responded with a sigh. "Where the hell is Donnie?" his question was directed outward of the room.

"Who the hell is Donnie?" Ryan's mind began to shoot out multiple questions; she spoke quickly and even morphed a few together, "Who the hell are you? Where the hell am I? Am I in heaven? Why is there glass on the floor?"

"Donnie!" he shouted out of the makeshift door frame.

"Donnie!" Ryan's confused mind mimicked.

"Stop that!" he ordered her.

"No!" She sounded like a kid, "Donnie!" she tilted her head so her voice could carry outward.

"I said to knock it off!" he threatened.

Rolling her head back to him, she narrowed her useless eyes at him and guessed where his were in order to whisper, "Make me." There was a small moment of hesitation between the two. Ryan's brain switched emotions again and her fierce blue eyes instantly became those of pure sadness and despair. "I'm sorry," she muttered as she broke the staring contest with him. "Can I see her?" she asked as tears added to her already cloudy vision.

"See who?" he asked in utter confusion.

"Raph! What did you do?" a new voice entered the conversation.

"Woah! She's bleeding again!"

"Yeah, thanks for that insight Mikey. And I didn't do anything! She cut herself with the glass!"

"Oh God," the owner of the new voice knelt next to Ryan and the larger man. "Miss, can you hear me?"

"Are you Donnie?" she asked in a cynical tone. "Because someone's been screaming for you," she indicted to the man holding her hand.

"That was you!" he defended.

"Raph, please," the man Ryan was able to determine was Donnie coxed the first man down, "Let me talk to her. Keep pressure on her hand."

"This is so crazy," the third voice commented.

"Miss, are you okay? How do you feel?"

As the time went on, her vision was partially resorted. Colors and vague figures were beginning to click inside her foggy mind. The color green was present in both the large man holding her hand and Donnie. The dripping from earlier echoed for a moment before her mouth vocalized the first thing that she thought of.

"Light," she answered.

"What? She feels light?" the third man hovering behind Donnie asked for clarification. "Does that even make sense?"

"Has she said anything else?" Donnie's blob in her vision turned slightly to the larger blob.

"Uh," he thought a moment before recalling their short conversation. "Nothing important," he concluded.

"Are you sure, Raph? I need to know everything."

"Raph," Ryan repeated the name out loud, which seemed to draw all three of their attention to her, "Like, Raphael?" Her head slightly rolled as she tried to focus on any of the three blobs in her sight. "Which one is Raphael?" she strained to eyes at a feeble attempt to concentrate on the men.

"That would be me," the one holding her hand answered matter-of-factly.

Another glare from the dazed girl while she processed his name to the shape of his blob. "You lied," she said with a cheeky grin.

"About what?" he demanded defensively.

She scoffed at him, but was more than willing to provide insight, "You're the Archangel Raphael."

"What?!" the third blob burst out with laughter behind Donnie, "Raph, an angel?! You've got to be kidding me!"

"Mikey, I swear to God, if one more stupid word comes out of your mouth-" he began his threat, but Donnie quickly hushed them both.

"Miss, you've been shot. We need to put you back on the table, otherwise you'll bleed out."

Ryan rolled her eyes and scoffed again, "No one can die in heaven," she sounded so sure of herself.

"This isn't heaven!" Raph stated bluntly.

"Well, we're not in hell, because an Archangel would never go there," she shrugged her shoulders in her apparent victory. Her logic seemed so accurate at the time, she could say anything and make it sound correct. Her brain seemed to fire off connections like crazy; and it was a nanosecond before another brilliant idea was muttered from her. "I want to fly."

Just as the men realized what she said, Ryan found untold strength and jumped up. The guys gasped as she sprang up suddenly. They all flinched and shouted at her negatively. Ryan ignored them, absolutely determined to fly; and, to her, it definitely felt as though she did. However, to the three blobs, she simply jumped up, got a huge head rush, and began to crumble under her own weight. Since Raph was applying constant pressure to her sliced hand, he was able to catch her much easier than Mikey and Donnie. Her dizzy head was pressed into his rough chest and then her body became weightless as he quickly positioned her to be effortlessly carried. Ryan opened her fuzzy eyes and smiled with satisfaction; she had flown.

"Put her on the table," Donnie requested.

Raph grumbled under Donnie's order. "This girl has lost her flippin' mind!"

"I don't think that is what happened," he shifted his focus to the last one, "How much morphine did you give her?"

"Two milligrams, just like you said," the shrug was evident in his tone.

Carefully, Raph placed the slightly shivering girl back on the cold table and under the beaming light. He repositioned himself to keep pressure on her bleeding palm and be able to look at the others. "I think she just has a death wish."

"Show me how much two milligrams is," Donnie instructed Mikey.

Ryan's body continued to feel weightless as she laid on her back and stare absentmindedly into the bright light. In her doped out mind, she was positive that she had died in that dark alleyway and went to heaven. She had just flown and the Archangel Raphael was there; what more proof did she need? Although, she did have one last request.

"Can I see her?" she whispered very quietly that no one heard her.

"Mikey! That's ten milligrams!"

"It totally is not!"

"Please," she whispered again.

"What?" Raph asked her.

"I explicitly told you not to do that!"

"That is so two milli-"

"She could have died, Mikey! This is a serious problem!"

"Let me see her," Ryan glanced to Raph, hoping to plea to the Archangel.

"See who?" he leaned closer out of curiosity.

"My mom. You have her. I want to see her," Ryan's voice was growing softer and more distant with each passing word. A stern blink and there was another rush of regained vision. This time, she was able to see more of Raph's characteristics. A red bandana was tied around his tough eyes and a few small scars littered his face. His skin was green and, for what she could see, his muscles were impressively large. However, just because she could see more clearly, didn't mean her brain was comprehending her sights. She was not scared; her childlike heart glanced up at Raph through her crystal blue eyes and begged him without speaking another word.

The sudden focus and pupil dilation from the girl caused him to flinch before he realized that she could see him. He leaned away quickly and looked to Donnie and Mikey, who were still arguing about the syringe markings. "Hey," he said more quietly than he thought, "Hey!" he grabbed their attention this time.

"Right, right!" Donnie's voice hurried over and entered Ryan's field of vision. He looked a lot like Raph, only with a purple bandana and was slightly shorter.

"I think she can see us," Raph informed him.

"Her vision is resorted?" he asked Raph rather than Ryan. Donnie pulled a mini flashlight out and shined it in her eyes. Ryan winced and turned her head away.

"No," she muttered in slight annoyance, "I want to see her. Please, Raphael." Her voice was tired and full of desperation when she used her blue eyes to glance at him. It was clear that he was uncomfortable; but that didn't register either. All she wanted was to see her mother.

"Can you fix her damn hand so I can go?" Raph asked harshly at Donnie.

"Yes, yes yes," Donnie rushed to the other side and relieved Raph who was all too happy to leave Ryan wondering where her mother was. The morphine had lasting effects, at least enough for Donnie to clean up her wound and stitch it up without the need to pump more into her. Ryan hardly noticed Donnie fixing her sliced palm; she turned her head and watched Raph storm out of the room. She prayed that he would return with her mother. But, as the medicine was wearing off, she seemed to become depressed at the nagging feeling that Raph wasn't going to bring her. She was pessimistic and hopeful at the same time. With the morphine slowly lessening their effects, Ryan felt herself become submerged in morose and fought back the urge to cry. "Mikey, make sure she stays awake now," Donnie instructed.

"You betcha," Mikey peered over her head and locked eyes with her. His bandana was orange. Ryan still couldn't process their appearance, so she simply stared back at him with watery eyes. "Wow, your eyes, are like, really blue," he complimented.

"What the hell happened?!" a new voice emerged from the hallway.

"Leo!" Mikey shouted with delight.

"It's a long story," Donnie vaguely explained as he quickly stitched her hand back together. "Did you get her blood type?"

"It was rough, but yeah. Now, are you ready to get it out?" Leo stepped on the opposite side of Donnie and just in Ryan's vision. A blue bandana wrapped his eyes. "How much time do we have before sun up?"

"Three hours; however, I've calculated that the operation for the second bullet will take at least four, just to be sure I don't mess anything up," Donnie's voice was quick and steady as he informed Leo of his mathematical conclusions.

"Are you sure we can't just take her to a hospital? She seems stable," Leo glanced at Ryan's pounding head.

"Absolutely not. While I was studying for the operation, she managed to cut up her hand pretty badly, consequently losing more blood. Plus, Mikey gave her five times more painkillers than I said," Donnie glared at the orange bandana leaning over Ryan's swimming head.

"It was an accident!" he defended.

"Yeah, that almost killed her," he scowled as he finished the last stitch in her hand. "Okay, let me wrap this up, and then we have to operate immediately."

"So, do I keep her awake while you're getting the bullet out?" Mikey asked.

Between all three of the muscular, green men, there was a collective sense of unaware for correct answer. Ryan changed her focus of her sight one at a time; Mikey to Donnie, then to Leo, back to Donnie, and finally to Mikey again.

"Uh," the uncertainty in Donnie's voice was unparallelled.

All three shifted uneasily at the inquiry.

"You got more blood for me," the normal Ryan was beginning to resurface. Her brain was stinging with a harsh migraine, but she was able to correctly ponder Mikey's question. "Give me half, then put me under. Once you're done, give me the rest." She pinched her eyes closed as the pain in her head was causing her to become dizzy. The morphine from before was fleeting. It felt as though her brain was being squeezed by pliers. "Oh my God," she muttered while shielding her face from the light.

"That might work," Donnie uttered to himself.

"Are you really going to listen to her?" Raph's voice emerged from the hallway. "My God, she thought she could fly! Now you're going to take surgery tips from her?"

"Raph, you're not helping!" Leo turned and faced the fourth member. How many of these guys were there?

"I'm just saying that it's a bad idea!" Ryan didn't have to see the two to feel the tension between them.

The voices from Leo and Raph were causing her head to ache even more. Added to that, her pain receptors were switching back on and her hand was in immense agony. She winced more as her hand twitched with sudden motor functions again. There was more; her collarbone was burning as though a flesh eating virus was gnawing at her skin. Finally, the bullet still lodged in her stomach. Simply breathing was bringing her torture. Painful tears cloaked her eyes as Leo and Raph continued their squabble and worsening her migraine.

"Dudes!" Mikey shouted for the other three, "Can't you see she's in pain?"

There was a suspenseful silence, but Ryan appreciated it greatly.

"Get this fucking bullet out," she demanded to Donnie with tearfully angry eyes and grinned teeth. "Give me morphine or not; I don't care. Just get this damn thing out. Or, I'll do it."

All four of the large green men exchanged glances. Ryan's body was aching in various forms of pain; she was not willing to wait much longer. If they didn't want to help her, then she would do it herself.

"Donnie," Leo nodded affirmatively at the purple bandana one, "Do it."

"About damn time," Ryan rested her head and concentrated on her breathing to level out her surges of pain. As she shut her eyes and elapsed an unknown amount of time simply calming her breathing down, the next time she opened her eyes was with Donnie and Raph leaning over her. She saw their mouths move, but she didn't understand what they were saying. The incredible migraine that seized her brain was gone and her burning bullet wounds weren't responding to pain receptors. "Thank you," she expressed her gratitude before allowing these strange green men operate on her.