It's still steaming in a few places, where the nitrogen pooled and she found herself watching it curl like smoke up to the ceiling. The steps turn to a run and for all she tries to sink back in this little nook, the steps halt before her. Donatello, she remembers, from their mission.

As his hand reached for her, she jerked back, wincing as she did. It's just pain, she tells herself, just pain. It passes. If she remains perfectly still she'll be fine. The cold settles in her bones, in her body, and she shivers.

Her burned face tugs when she opens her lips to speak, "What are you doing?" Just kill me, she thinks, what on earth is that tape even for.