At the sound, Leo utters a quiet groan and tilts his head, struggling for consciousness. His head throbs and there's a horrible dry nasty taste in his mouth, but he's not recovering from a concussion. No, those people - whoever they were, he didn't recognize the uniform - plugged him with a tranq as he scrambled to free his brother from debris.
Leonardo's brain comes online before his body, and he remembers; calling Raphael's name through choking dust, getting no answer; shafts of sunlight illuminating the tunnel remains, now mostly rubble; pulling free of the landslide, leg twisted under a heavy slab but still functional, he limps around the pain as he searches; finally locating his brother, unconscious and trapped; struggling to free Raph, hearing movement behind him and then -
Not even given a chance to fight. Taken down by a sedative, like an animal, by some sort of elite animal control from the looks of them (since when did New York deploy city workers with tranq guns? Maybe they were a private company of some sort? And if so, where are they headed?), all because he was too focused on the search to keep a proper situational awareness. He'd just been so worried about (and angry at)...
"Raph?" he mutters, struggling to muster the strength to raise his hand to his eyes. It's a work in progress. The pain in his leg is really distracting, but it is helping him wake up. Shame he can't quite figure out how to shift his muscles yet.
o hi raph would u like some guilt let me arrange some
Leonardo's brain comes online before his body, and he remembers; calling Raphael's name through choking dust, getting no answer; shafts of sunlight illuminating the tunnel remains, now mostly rubble; pulling free of the landslide, leg twisted under a heavy slab but still functional, he limps around the pain as he searches; finally locating his brother, unconscious and trapped; struggling to free Raph, hearing movement behind him and then -
Not even given a chance to fight. Taken down by a sedative, like an animal, by some sort of elite animal control from the looks of them (since when did New York deploy city workers with tranq guns? Maybe they were a private company of some sort? And if so, where are they headed?), all because he was too focused on the search to keep a proper situational awareness. He'd just been so worried about (and angry at)...
"Raph?" he mutters, struggling to muster the strength to raise his hand to his eyes. It's a work in progress. The pain in his leg is really distracting, but it is helping him wake up. Shame he can't quite figure out how to shift his muscles yet.