Does it almost feel like nothing changed at all?

by NinjaNekosLibrary

Summary:

And the walls kept tumbling down
In the city that we love

Grey clouds roll over the hills
Bringing darkness from above

But if you close your eyes
Does it almost feel like nothing changed at all?

And if you close your eyes
Does it almost feel like you've been here before?

Chapter 1: You’d Never Know

Notes:

Every chapter will begin with summarizing lyrics from a song. Anyone know what this one is?

I don't think I've ever been so lonely

Didn't know if I would make it out

The dead of the winter of my life

In the middle of the summertime

And it still haunts me now

But you'd never know

 

---

 

Sometimes Raph thinks his brothers are trying to test his limits to see how long it takes before he snaps.

Why else would Donnie blatantly refuse to tell him where he was hiding out after disappearing from the lair near daylight hours?

Okay, so maybe he could have left long before daylight hours, but that didn't change the fact that he refused to disclose his location after Raph had texted politely! Not a single insult or passive-aggressive comment!

Before Donnie decided not to tell him, obviously.

He knew that heading out into the city alone is a major no-no in Leo's book, and their worrywart sensei would probably have him grounded to the lair for weeks if he found out. Granted, that's probably why Donnie didn't tell anyone, instead pretending to be cooped up in his lab, his rock tracks playing to cover up the fact no one was home. 

He was trying to play nice by giving him the opportunity to tell him, but Donnie left him no choice. He was the one who taught them how to use the laptop to track the t-phones, and how to download directions onto the t-phones. He said to only use it in case of emergencies, but Raph was a master at rule breaking, so, really, Donnie was his own undoing. 

He squints at the map, wondering how close he is if he's right next to other dot that should be his younger brother, but his younger brother isn't there. He looks up to give his surroundings a frustrated scan, wondering if the stupid app is brok- oh, there he is. 

Then Raph realizes where they are. 

His blood freezes and he obeys the urge to dart to the side, using the water tower's railing to yank himself up before ducking behind the water tower itself. In the back of his mind, he knows that panic is pointless, but his mind enjoys irrationally torturing him. He feels like he can't breathe as he presses his carapace against the watertower, curling his hands into fists and trying to get his heart rate to settle.

Why here?

Of all the rooftops in the city, why this one?!

He forces himself to peek around the water tower, warily looking over the roof. He doesn't know what he expects to find, but there's nothing there. Nothing except a little brother who should be anywhere in the city except here.

Raph's gaze shies away from where his brother sits on the parapet, legs resting against the side of the building as he stares at the alleyway below. His gaze never strays from one spot, so he's not watching anything. He's simply sitting on the one rooftop in all of New York that none of them have dared ventured back to. Like it's cursed. 

Maybe it is.

They'd stumbled upon cursed blades before. Why not a cursed rooftop?

Wouldn't be the weirdest thing they'd ever dealt with.

He awkwardly steps out from behind the water tower, self-conscious over the fact that he hid behind it in the first place. His younger brother is still watching the ground, and there's no one else around, so no one witnessed his cowardice. 

Hiding from a rooftop. 

Him of all turtles.

If Mona could see him now...

He drops onto the roof, and then jogs to the end of the building. He has to will himself to make the jump, silently touching down without so much as a whoosh of air in his wake. He takes in the roof tainted by a memory, and sucks in a breath when it comes to life.

He can see the battle rising before his eyes, locating each spot where they all stood, his arm around April's shoulder as Splinter smiles at them. He can feel the shock of Shredder's reappearance, and the blow piercing his heart, as if Shredder had stabbed them both in one fatal stroke. He can see Splinter fall, hear his cry as he's flung, horrified to realize that he'd just stood there and done nothing-

He lets out the breath. The memory doesn't fade, but it's blocked from an instant replay as he drags his gaze away. His heart pounds as he walks towards his younger brother. He's never been more grateful that his brothers were somewhere else when a battle took place. He can barely carry the weight of remembrance, but he does so anyway, because he refuses to be caught unaware next time.

He refuses to let them lose anyone else.

There are goosebumps along his arms as he steps across the surface that haunts his nightmares, but he's never let fear beat him before, and he doesn't now.

He stops next to Donnie, a brush of wind knocking their mask tails to the side. The wind has nothing on the cold that works it's way down his body when he follows his little brother's gaze, half-expecting to see a body there. Or blood. Or... Anything that remained of that night. 

It's just an empty alley, so he doesn't know why a shudder crawls down his body. He crosses his arms, clinging onto the fact that it's cold and the discomfort can be excused as something other than weakness. The blame can be switched on Donnie if he cares enough to point it out.

He hasn't even bothered to look up, but his hands are in his lap now, giving Raph space to sit should he choose too. Raph raises his head, watching the clouds cross the sky in the distance, finding the peaceful horizon a safer place to turn his attention.

He decides to test the water before he risks getting pulled into an emotional talk. "What are you doing out here?"

"Thinking."

Curt and absent. Not helpful. "Here?"

"Considering the topic of thought? Seemed apropos."

He doesn't sound upset. Raph wants to come on strong, demand that he think somewhere else, anywhere else- but doing that without getting pulled into a discussion that he can't stomach is impossible. He can try insisting that it's cursed, but Mikey's probably only person who would take his word for it.

Good ol' delusional Mikey.

"You used the tracker."

It's not a question. He answers anyway. "Yep."

He doesn't want to, but he sits down. Donnie continues watching the alleyway floor, and despite his better judgement, Raph mutters, "What're you looking at?"

"The ground."

Raph's stare narrows and Donnie's eyes finally rises from that godforsaken ground to meet his as he quirks a small, knowing smile. "Would've figured that was obvious."

"Smart-alec."

Donnie nods solemnly, and then tilts his head. "What are you doing here?"

It's not accusing. It's curious, and a little sympathetic. Raph's hands tighten around his arms subconsciously before he forces them to relax. He looks back into the distance. "Looking for you. Regretting it."

"Sorry to be so much trouble." He states unapologetically. "Leo sent you?"

He could lie. Donnie will probably believe him if he does. "No."

"Ah." Donnie's eyeing him now, but Raph pretends not to notice. He knows that he wants to ask, but they both know he'll deny it without a second thought. Better to leave things implied or half-said, where the weakness isn't as obvious. 

Donnie looks back at the ground, seemingly chewing on his words as he mulls something over. "It's funny-"

"The ground?"

Donnie rolls his eyes. "I'm trying to be serious."

Raph smirks. "Good luck."

That earns him a head shake that hides a smile, and then Donnie restarts, "It's funny that there was a point of time where Leo would have had a panic attack if I left without telling him the when and where, or some mental break down if I forgot to check in every fifteen minutes."

Raph snickers, because, hey, that is kinda funny. 

"You'd think I'd be grateful that there are no more life-threatening missions lurking around every corner, but sometimes... I miss it. The inspiration that led to new inventions, the adrenaline of a losing battle, the rush that come with defusing a bomb that's about to take out half the city." Donnie slumps a bit, rubbing his arm. "Does... Does that ever make you feel guilty?"

"Guilty?" Raph scoffs. "Nothing wrong with wanting a little action."

"But it wasn't a game. People's lives were at risk." Donnie argues without heat. "More often than not it put targets on our backs. Makes me wonder... Well, Splinter didn't want us fighting crime. He was trying to teach us to defend ourselves. He even tried to keep us home when we first met April. He accepted that we wanted to be heroes. Supported it even..." Raph's stomach twists, and he takes a careful breath, keeping the surge of fury and helplessness under wraps. "I wonder if he ever considered that it might lead him here."

Raph closes his eyes. He wants to give into the urge to shut his little brother up, to let the blinding anger well up and swallow him just long enough for walls to be put up between them, locking down the pain before it can bleed out. Donnie's not trying to hurt him, but the implications slice deep anyway, opening scars that don't know how to mend on their own.

He breathes in, and back out. Donnie is processing in his own way. Splinter was his father too, and if he shuts Donnie down, then he'll only succeed in pushing him away. He can't do that, to any of his brothers. They've been way too understanding. He doesn't deserve it, and he can't respond with- with anger. He's better than that. He has control now.

Maybe he's quiet for too long, because he senses Donnie scoot closer. His shoulder touches his taller brother's arm, and then Donnie stills. He says nothing, but Raph hears everything. The silent reassurance that he can take his time, the understanding that he needs a moment, and a promise to not push as he takes it.

The next breath is easier.

He continues to center himself until his trembling fists lay open on his lap, and the tempting anger is only background static. He opens his eyes, and looks down into the alley, leaning only a smidge of his weight against his brother's in return. "Sometimes."

"Hmm?"

"I do. Feel guilty." 

"...You? Really?"

"Don't want people gettin' hurt." He mutters, barely forcing the words into open air. "So, yeah."

"Contradictory wants. Wonder what that says about us." 

"We like what we do?" Raph turns to face him. "No shame in that." 

"Really?" Donnie doesn't look back, too deep in his thoughts to notice the way Raph scans his expression. "Even if it ends up getting one of us killed?"

"This is going to sound real sappy, so brace yourself." Donnie blinks twice, and then his face scrunches as he turned to look at him. Raph meets his gaze with the most serious, earnest expression he can muster. "Then we go down doing what we love." 

Donnie gawks, and then snorts, a hand coming up to cover his laughter. "H-holy- wow. Wow. Where'd you pull that from?" 

Raph grins, relieved to have broken the tension. "All me, bro."

"There's no way."

"You got me. Tv show."

"Ha!" 

Raph elbows his younger brother and then settles his elbows on his thighs, adding, "I got your guys' shells, Don. Nothing's going to happen while I'm around."

"I've got yours too." Donnie concurs immediately, as if it goes without question. "All of us do."

A lump rises to his throat with the intensity of the promise, and he tries to ignore the embarrassment that courses through his blood, hoping his face isn't red like he feels like it is. Get ahold of yourself, man!

A t-phone rings, and he lowers a hand to check his belt. His t-phone is silent, so he looks at his younger brother. Donnie puts his on speaker. "Hey, Leo."

Anxiety lurks under the stern tone. "Is Raph with you?"

"Nope. Let us know when you find him." Raph responds with a smug grin, waiting for his voice to register. Leo sighs and Donnie bumps his shoulder in playful disapproval, stating, "We're just getting some fresh air. You know how Raph gets when he's cooped up."

Raph raises an eye ridge, but lets Donnie get away with his fib because it means less worried or pitying stares when they get back home. Leo buys it. "You guys really shouldn't have left without telling anyone."

"Sorry." Donnie says in habit as he gets to his feet, stepping off the parapet and heading up the roof. Raph stands, but doesn't move further. He keeps his eye on the distance, so Donnie turns off speaker. "We didn't intend to be out long."

His phone buzzes, and he checks it. 

>WHERE ARE U????

<Caps

>OOPS

>Where are u???.?

<As far from u as possible

>What did I do??

<I'll think of something

He glances up when the silence stretches and spots the patient look on his younger brother's face. His mouth opens and shuts a few frustrated times before he repents, "I know, I know. It won't happen again."

>Hes really going all out!!

<Maybe he'll use his rant up on Don

<Give me space to breath

"Leo, I got it."

>As if

>he's so gonna rag on u

>Where are u???

<None if ur business

>Y are u so mean to me!!

<bc u can't use punctation to save ur life 

"Leo-" A moment of pensive silence. "Seriously?"

>punishment time

<He is not

>Totally is bro

<ugh

"Fine, fine. We're on it."

>PIZZA NIGHT!!!

<Remind me to punch him 

<Or spit in his pizza

>Will do

"Okay. Yep. See you soon."

Donnie hangs up and walks over to Raph. "We're being punished. Pizza pick up."

"Pretty sure he likes it when we screw up." Raph puts away his t-phone and then they're off, heading off the cursed rooftop. He feels like a weight leaves as they put distance between it and them, following his younger brother's lead. "Maybe he makes up dumb rules on purpose. Then he gets some errand boys."

"At least it's pizza." Donnie shrugs, ever the pushover. "Pizza guy is usually fast."

They fall into a comfortable silence as they sprint to wherever they'll be exchanging cash for cheesy goodness, and then something Raph hasn't seen in a long while catches his eyes. He skids to an abrupt stop, and creeps closer to the edge of the rooftop, squinting to make sure he's not wrong.

He's not. An eager grin grows, "Well, would you look at that."

Donnie steps up from behind him, and they watch as a goon chucks the limp body of the warehouse guard to the ground. A few more men come up behind him as the first proceeds to break the hatch of the loading bay door, and Donnie gasps. "Is that... No. No way. The mafia's back in business?"

"Don't know, don't care." Raph grinds his knuckle into his palm. "But I don't think they're supposed to be there and somebody should let them know."

"Texting Leo." Donnie responds. "Do you think we should wait for-"

Raph leaps off the side of the building and catches onto the fire escape halfway down, slowing his momentum enough that when he jumps again, he hits the ground safely. Donnie drops onto the dumpster behind him, and he waits till he slides to the ground before stating, "There's only a few of them. We can handle this."

"Alright." Donnie pulls out his staff. He's trying to act casual, but there's an eager light in his eyes that betrays him. "Got my back?" 

"Always." Raph pulls out his sais, spinning them to get a feel and then stepping aside, letting him pass by. "Now let's go beat some no-good Italians."

"There isn't actually any definitive proof the goons are of Italian heri-Yow!"

"Would you just get inside already?" 

Notes:

And so it begins

Chapter 2: Carried Away

You thought the feeling was forever

And the stars were on your side

It was lovely while it lasted

But it wasn't meant to stay

Still, you let yourself get carried away

***

Raph has to practically shove his pouting brother into the building, and they both snap into ninja mode the moment they cross the threshold. Third eyelids close, helping to lighten the dark just a bit, and they do a once-over of the area, searching for any signs of movement. Donnie hurries forward to do a more thorough search, and Raph watches with exasperation as he seems to bounce around the boxes, appearing and disappearing like some stupid game of wack-a-mole. He definitely learned that from Leo. 

He glances back to the door and the van, and a shuffle of movement catches his eyes. He freezes in surprise as he realizes the guard is awake and walking towards the door, and dives into the nearest shadow, waiting for him to enter the warehouse to find the mob lackies.

His brow furrows in confusion when he simply stops at his post next to the door, and leans against the wall, tapping the hilt where his gun hides. He remains like that for a minute or two more, and Raph is about to go seek out his brother when another man dashes at him, knocking him out and tossing him to the floor. His four cohorts come up behind them, and the first crouches to fiddle with the air before they all dash through the door one at a time. 

Then, once a few steps inside, they vanish. Like they were never there at all.

...Which begs an excellent question. 

He steps forward cautiously, scanning the area around the door. He spots a small black box of unknown purpose, but there's a camera-appearing lense on the end. After a moment of contemplation, Raph kneels and turns to look at the unconscious man that it's pointed at. Without taking his eyes off of him, he stabs the box. 

Slick and forceful, it breaks through and probably slices plenty of delicate wires, rendering the box useless. The man flickers a few times before disappearing, and Raph's theory is confirmed. The whole scene was a hologram- an act, and someone left it here for a reason. 

Someone was using it as bait.

Possibly for a couple crime-fighting mutant turtles. 

It's a trap.

He jumps to his feet, and the bay door drops down in response, cutting him off from the outside. He dashes to it on pure instinct, slamming his sai into it with a frustrated growl, only to cut himself off when there's a faint hissing. He looks up to the vent above, a taintedly sweet smell reaching him. 

He instinctively holds his breath and steps back, only to catch the tell-tale fwoosh of air. He deflects one dart, and then a second and third, abruptly recalling the brother that's with him and unaware of the danger. 

His heart leaps to his throat and he forsakes ninja stealth as he charges for the crates. "Donnie!" 

The darts seem to follow him, but after years of dodging laser blasts, keeping out of their reach takes only a small reserve of skill. His startled younger brother appears near the top of the stack, and he ricochet off the surfaces to reach him. "Raph? What's going on? Are you-" 

He tackles him onto his shell, covering his mouth to hiss, "Fake robbery. Darts. Stay down."

Donnie nods, so he removes his hand, both of them crouching, surrounded by the thick crates that make a good makeshift shield. A moment of scanning, and then Donnie is nudging him to point out the camera facing in their direction. Raph spots the well-hidden dart guns, and pulls out his ninja stars, noting every location so he doesn't hesitate.

Donnie slowly removes his staff, whispering, "Think we can make it out?" 

"Not the way we came in. This place is leaking knock-out gas." 

"Like rotten-eggs?"

Raph shoots him a grimace. "What?"

"The smell."

He deadpans, because they have more pressing matters than comparing what the room's about to smell like. "No."  

"Sweet?"

He sighs. "Sure." 

"High concentration." Donnie's brows furrow. "We don't have much time. We need to get out."

No kidding, Einstein.

He turns towards the second floor, wondering if there's a window that they can shatter. He meets his younger brother's gaze and nods to the stairs. Donnie gets into a more flexible crouch. 

"Hold your breath."

He bites back a retort. "Got it." 

They leap, hitting the ground and gathering the attention of the dart guns. Donnie maneuvers himself in Raph's path, just enough to cover him as the darts go flying, but not enough to hinder his assault on the guns. They're taken out one by one, and Raph's amused by how easy it is. 

When the last dart gun has a ninja star blocking the dart's escape, Donnie's staff stops it's whirl and they hurry for the stairs to the next floor. The moment that he trusts his surroundings enough to breath, Raph can't help from a wheezy comment. "That was... Too easy. These mutant haters- are... All tech, no strategy."

"The last ambush involved missiles, Raph." Donnie says after they pause to catch their breaths. It almost feels condescending, as if Raph wouldn't vividly remember the large missiles that fired at them in the middle of the city street. "And him wanting us alive possibly means something so much worse than him wanting us dead." 

"This actually seems off-par from their usual. I thought we sent their ring leader away for good. What's Vizioso's game this time?" Donnie muses as he plucks the darts from his staff. Raph, not willing to admit that he has a point, makes his way to an open window that leads to a fire escape. 

The window opens, but Donnie pushes him to the side before he can get out. His paranoid younger brother taps his staff on the walk as if to make sure it won't trigger anything, and Raph rolls his eyes, shoving him out. He gets to his feet as Raph grumbles, "Who cares? Probably broke outta jail or something and wants revenge."

Donnie frowns at this, because his recent actions probably made things between him and Don very personal, but Raph notes that he doesn't look particularly murderous. 

Good. He'd rather Leo handle Donnie when he's off his rocker. He's more content to watch and see what comes of it. 

They go up to the rooftop and Raph stops at the edge to set a foot on the parapet, looking down to where the fake guard once laid. He smirks, and heads to his younger brother. "Looks like our pining is over. We're getting our action, after all." 

"Guess we really shouldn't have assumed that all villainy was gone for go- the pizza!" Donnie abruptly spins towards him, evidently horrified that they forgot their stupid punishment, and evades a dart that neither ninja saw heading for him, instead catching the dart that would have hit Raph. 

He yelps, slapping at his arm as if to swat a mosquito, and then freezes.  

So maybe they're not quite out of danger yet.

There's barely a second of pause, and then Raph is tackling Donnie for a second time that night, bringing him down as darts beginning flying overhead. They're coming from all directions, and that does not bode well, especially now that one of them has been hit.

"Not good! Not good! Not good!" Donnie gasps as they scramble to their feet just long enough to reach the fire escape, evading the darts and ducking into the offered shadows. They move to the ground soundlessly, and a van pulls up to block the streetway exit. They duck behind a dumpster to get a reading on the danger, and Raph feels a familiar defensive fury well up. 

Raph watches the first man exit the back, and he's prepared to take him head on- he owes the jerks several deserved beatings- but then Donnie slumps against the wall just enough for him to notice, a notable hitch in his breath. Raph spins to face him, and his younger brother's eyes are glazed, staring at Raph as if he doesn't quite see him.

The beatings can wait. 

"Come on." 

He grabs his arm to yank him to his feet, and Donnie doesn't fight him. He hears the cries of the men as they dart out from their hiding place, but Raph pays them no heed, diving deeper into the alleys. Donnie's steps are heavier than usual, but he's as nimble as Raph needs him to be, soundlessly following his lead as they attempt to loose the kidnapping wackos. 

They reach a dead-end, and Raph knows they can't turn back, so he does a desperate scan of the area. There's a small, darkened window possibly leading into a basement to their left, and Raph takes the opportunity, leading his younger brother to it and waiting till he's all the way in to follow his lead. He drops down, finding that it's a storage room, and crouching on the fridge as Donnie drops down on a couch, burying his head in his hands.

The room is covered in dust, so Raph's not worried about any unexpected interruptions. "Don?"

"Sedative." Donnie mutters in his hands. "T-Think so, anyway. Fast working. Mutant brand?" He looks up, groans, and then buries his head again. "There're two of you."

It was more of an 'are you okay' tone than a 'give me a run-down' one, but then again, for his brainy younger brother, both could satisfy as the answer. Raph is not satisfied, but he doesn't push, looking back out the window as voices register. He reaches through to drag an empty box over the opening, listening as footsteps enter the area. 

"-see them?"

"-told you we should have all shot first!"

"Those weren't the orders!"

"We could have taken out them both!" 

"You know what he said about to much tranq!" 

"Look, you two! Boss only wants the one and he wants it alive! So let's go find it already!" 

New panic is trying to get a choke hold on him, and he looks at his younger brother, letting the news sink in. The one.

Is Vizioso after Donnie? Not again! Last time was a fluke, but this time he's picking him out. He's targeting him. And all because Donnie just had to go try and take him out!

His teeth grit as a protective rage tenses his muscles, and he shoves the box away, earning his younger brother's attention. Donnie's eyes are dialated, but alert, and he gets unsteadily to his feet as he asks, "What is it?"

"I'm gonna lead them away." He snaps. "Stay here. You'll only slow me down." 

"What?" Donnie gasps squeakily. "That's- terrible idea. We have... to stay together."

"You're drugged and I'm not having this argument with you." Raph growls, well-aware that Donnie will not hesitate to follow if he doesn't talk him down. "I can take care of myself." 

"But!" His younger brother looks panicked; the worry, sedative, and fear leaving barely any white left in his eyes as he struggles to come up with an argument. There's no way he'll keep up- he barely looks able to continue standing. 

He's being stupid, but he's also scared, and Raph feels some of his frustration flicker out. He slips off the fridge, moving to his side and sitting him back on the couch. 

Donnie's hand wraps around Raph's arm to keep him from standing back up, clinging as he searches his face, and the hothead mutters, "I'm just gonna to lead them away, and I can't have dead weight. I'll be right back for you, soon as I get rid of these bozos. But you have to stay here."

Donnie hesitates. "No- fighting. Can't win. Just... Lead 'em away."

"Stay here, Don." Raph reiterates because he can't make that kind of promise. 

Donnie relaxes his grip, slumping back on the couch, and Raph hoists himself back onto the refrigerator. He takes one last look at his younger brother, glazed doe-eyes watching him anxiously, and then he slips back out of the window. 

He feels a bit guilty leaving Donnie behind, but it fades when he steps out of the alley and finds the dweebs searching for them. As always, he relies on instinct to lead him, and instinct demands a little payback.

Raph sprints up to the nearest mafia goon and round-house kicks him in the gut, launching him into two of his partners. 

The rest look up at the pained cries, and Raph flashes the cockiest grin that he can muster with the anger bubbling in his gut, pulling out his twin sais. "You want a mutant turtle? Well, congratulations! You found one!"  

He slides a leg back, sneering as weapons are lifted. "Here's your prize." 

Like the untrained imbeciles they are, they aim for where he is, and not where he's going. A handslam of two empty skulls here, a bruised rib there, and Raph loses himself in the fury. To many emotions had been jerked about that night, and since the goons played a part in it, they could also play the part of his punching bags. 

Plus, he's still sore over the 'kicking him when he was down' and then kidnapping his little brother fiasco, so that officially takes down two birds with one stone. 

Nothing impulsive about it. Who says he has anger issues?

He tosses the unconscious form to the ground and watches him roll, dusting off his hands and turning with a smirk to see who is left. The confidence fades when he spots the abnormally large weapon resting on a goon's shoulder, and braces himself as it fires. 

He's too close to dodge and he barely connects the dots that there's a net flying at him until the weighted endings are wrapping around his body, knocking him onto his carapace. He strains against it, limbs locked tight, preventing him from lifting his arms to cut through the stupid metallic rope- since when were nets made of metal? And hot?

They're steadily getting warmer, each woven strand burning into his skin, and he ignores the panic shooting through his being in waves. There are tiny zaps of electricity dancing across the restricting metal, pinches of pain across scales, and he can't breathe. There's movement, and his attention shoots to the goon that approaches with a small device, watching with growing horror as he slowly twists the knob.

The goon's messing with him. He's getting into his head, probably payback for hitting his friends, and he braces for the pain, because any minute he's going to knock him out and Donnie's going to be on his own- He ran off and left his drugged little brother alone in a human basement with a legion of goons after him after he’d just told him he had his back!

Nowaitdon'tDonnieNO-

“WAIT!” 

The knob jerks to highest setting.

Notes:

Me: I’m going to be hyperfixed on nothing but this fic

Mutant Mayhem: *exists*

 

I rave over turtles here: tumblr

Chapter 3: Run

Notes:

Placeholder chapter because it’s been three weeks of no updates when I promised 1-2 and I got distracted with updating my turtle tot collection and, yk, life~

Look to the rising sun 

And run, run, run

***

 

<Pizza's on hold. Don's mob is robbing some warehouse.

 

>Visioso?!

>Location now. We're coming. Do not engage

>Hear me? No matter what Raph says, DO NOT ENGAGE 

>Donnie? 

>Donnie! 

*Call missed* *Call missed* 

 

>Using emergency trackers

>Why is Raph's phone offline

>Donnie answer me!

*Call missed* *Call missed* *Call missed* *Call missed* 

>PICK UP THE PHONE

*Call missed* 

 

> Donnie

>Just tell me you're okay

 

> Hold on, little brother. We're coming 

 

 

Chapter 4: Gotta Go

Notes:

Long story short- I accidentally deleted this chapter while I was editing it last week, and I had to rewrite it over Easter. Thankfully, I managed to fight through the utter unfairness of the situation that made me not want to try, and I think it ended up better than before!

I’m very proud of this one. Mikey’s, like, the hardest character to get in the head of And write for, so here’s to attempting to do him some justice <3

Running out of time 

We gotta go, we gotta go, we gotta go, we gotta go!

I know, I know, I know, I know, I know! 

***

This-

This is exactly why Leo makes rules!

A car honks as the driver to their left has to slam the breaks when the PartyWagon speeds straight through a red light. Leo barely takes notice, checking that the car isn't about to follow them before returning most of his attention to the road ahead. The rest of it strays between checking the GPS on the phone mount and trying to keep the simmering fury under wraps, adrenaline encouraging a harsh turn around the corner. 

Normally, he's a lot more respectful of street laws, but normally, his brothers don't disappear in the middle of the night to take a joy run across the city without a single word about it! 

As he might have guessed, it was Raph's doing, but Donnie shares a fair amount of blame considering he tried to help hide their departure. Leo knows that they're all still trying to get used to him being head of the family, but they've got to be out of their minds if they think he's going to stand by and let this outright disobedience go unchecked.

If anything happens to them...

He should have called them back. He should have immediately commanded them home, even if they would have mocked him for it. He should have left the minute he found out they were gone instead of worrying that they would deem him paranoid. 

"Sensei Worrinardo's at it again!" 

Whether it be in the heat of battle or in everyday life, ninjas do not let fear overcome them, and leaders can't afford to let it slow them down. 

Shell-for-brains. What would Splinter say?

There's a soft pang at the thought of their father, and he carefully sets aside the emotions that will only serve as a distraction. He needs to keep his head in the game. He can afford to rethink his mistakes when their brothers are safe and grounded to the lair. 

Vizioso's gang has been quiet since the police picked him up from his stronghold hotel after Kavaxas' explosion drew them to the scene. They'd found rooms filled with weapons, valuables, and illegal goods, and the last report that he'd gotten from Donnie was that Vizioso had been carted off for trial. 

Leo doesn't like the risk of Donnie coming into contact with any of the Mafia goons after their last encounter, especially with their most volatile brother at his side. 

He trusted Donnie to keep his head and not to hunt Vizioso down and murder him in some jail cell. Unfortunately, he can't seem to trust him not to dive into a warehouse with their battle-starved brother after he specifically said not to.

A conversation for when he brings them home. 

"Anything?" 

Mikey glances at him and then warily pries a hand from the dashboard in order to pick up his t-phone. "Nothing after Raph said he was gonna spit on your pizza."

"He said what?" Leo can't help the growl under his false calm, and Mikey giggles nervously, unconsciously shifting his body away from the eldest. "Uh. Nevermind?" 

Leo flexes his hands over the steering wheel and forces a deep breath, reminding himself that he is currently in the PartyWagon with the only brother who had respected his authority so far that evening. He narrows his eyes on the horizon, a sliver of orange visible. Aaand dawn is on it's way.

Great. Just absolutely brilliant.

That's it.

"They're not leaving the lair for a week. Two weeks. No lab. No tv. Mandatory meditation will do him some good."

Mikey considers the proclamation as Leo turns onto a new street. "Donnie or Raph?" 

Leo grits his teeth. "I don't know. Both of them!"

"Donnie's probably just gonna imagine a new doohickey the whole time and Raph doesn't really do... Inner peace."

"He should have thought about that before he snuck out!" 

"You know it's gonna make them try again, right?" Mikey interrupts before Leo can argue. "Well, Donnie might give you the cold shoulder, but Raph is definitely gonna sneak out. Probably just to spite you. We did it all the time with Splinter. Kinda pros at it by now." 

He sounds proud of this acknowledgment, and panic twists in Leo's gut as he wonders if his brothers had been sneaking out when he wasn't looking. Mikey's right. They are, and they absolutely had. How many times has this happened behind his back? 

He clenches the wheel, sarcasm drenching every inch of his comeback to mask the new anxiety. "Well, what do you think I should do?" 

Mikey taps his chin with the tip of the t-phone, and Leo bites his tongue to hold back a groan, because of course Mikey still doesn't know what a rhetorical question is. 

"I'd tell them why I'm wiggin' out. You don't want to be the bad guy, and they don't want to be the bad guys, so talk it out. If Raph gets all fussy, Donnie's going to get triggered, and then everyone's the bad guy. So, like, ask them about it. Maybe they had a good reason for going out, you know?"

Leo doubts that any reason they have can placate him, but he shuts his mouth and watches the GPS. None of them know how, but out of everyone, Mikey's the best at dealing with Raph during his fits and Donnie's frustrated spirals, so if there's any logic to his advice, he's probably going to want to take it. 

"Dude, we both know Raph's doing better with the whole 'less yelling and more listening', but he's still got a long way to go. And Donnie only runs off willy-nilly if it's about April." 

Leo's gaze shoots to him. "Something happened to April and they didn't tell us?"

"Bro." Mikey shoots him a very undeserved deadpan and he trains a glare back on the road, because he's trying to follow along with the logic. "He would have mentioned April if she was in trouble. It's Donnie. So it's not about April, and if it's not about April then he used that big brain of his to think about it before running off."

"Great. So he and Raph planned to go behind my shell all along." Leo grumbles bitterly. "You realize that's worse? And why shouldn't I ground them again?"

"Cause they had a reason." Mikey insists as he throws up both arms. "I'm not saying don't ground them or whatever, just talk. Say 'it was dangerous' instead of 'you're both shell-for-brains'! Not that hard." 

That's easy for him to say. He doesn’t actually have to talk sense into them.

Mikey's staring expectantly and he sighs. "I'll... Think about it." 

Their youngest brother brightens and faces his phone as Leo suddenly realizes that the GPS is trying to lead him into the alleyways that they're passing straight by. With a final turn that has the wheel shrieking furiously, he takes them into the first wide alleyway that they comes across and stops the vehicle, swinging open the door and surveying the area. 

"Okay. Let's move."

He swipes his t-phone as Mikey hops out of the passenger side, sprinting down the dank alley. 

The city's beginning to wake up, so Leo's grateful that they're ducking further into the heart of the alleyways and out of their sight, even if they're headed into the seedy part of the neighborhood. This area is usually a good shortcut when using rooftop travel, but he worries rooftop travel will leave them too exposed, so they stay down in the fading shadows. 

It's too quiet. They're closing in, and there should be sounds or signs of battle, but the peaceful silence is daunting, warning of incoming dangers. 

Mikey jogs at his side as he leads the way, and he knows that Mikey can sense the wrongness of the situation when he removes his nunchucks, swinging them and setting one side under his armpits. Leo removes a single katana, feeling a calm wash over him with one of his father's blade in hand, and they continue on. 

They turn into a dead-end alley, and they should be right on top of Donnie's position. They're no where near a warehouse as far as he can tell, which means the fight must have moved. But were their brothers chasing the mobsters, or were the mobsters chasing their brothers? 

He refuses to let his fears get the better of him. Mikey kicks a box and looks around blankly before passing Leo a confused look. "Where are they?" 

Good question.

He steps forward as he double-checks his t-phone. They should be right here, so he uses the light that the dawn provides and does a careful scan, checking inside a dumpster and whispering their brothers' names. Mikey gets the hint and obediently follows his example, peeking under boxes that are much less likely to hide giant mutant turtles. 

"Heeere, Raph, Raph. Here Donnie. Just your bros, come to get you!" 

Leo looks back at the t-phone, trying to figure out what the itch in the back of his mind is. He's missing something, an important keynote of information - it hits him.

Dread spikes at his heart and he puts away his t-phone to begin rummaging for another. Raph's known to lose or trash his stuff, but Donnie is never careless with his tech. If someone tried to take it, he would have told it to self destruct. Simple as that. So if it's lying in this garbage, then something or someone must have prevented him from picking it up or blowing it up.

They're in trouble.

He stands to tell Mikey that they need to move on, unwittingly knocking his foot against a unopened can and sending it rolling. The soft clatter of noise catches both their attention, and it bounces off a box only a few inches away, knocking it some and revealing an open window low to the ground. Leo doesn't know why he goes to investigate, but he does, pushing the box to the side and dropping in to find a room filled with dusty furniture and a figure lying limp on a couch.

"Donnie!" 

Donnie is in an awkward forward slump, face pressed into the cushions and one hand brushing the floor. It reminds him off the way his younger brother can often be found collapsed over on his desk when exhaustion overcomes him, but Leo knows that Raph would never let him leave the lair if he was on the verge of collapse, carefully planned disobedience or not. 

His heart in his throat, Leo slides off the fridge and scrambles to his side, tentatively placing a finger on the vein along his neck. His skin is clammy and his face is pale, but there's slower-than-normal heartbeat, and he feels his own settle. He adjusts him so he can lay flat, placing a steady hand on his carapace and scanning the room. That's proof of life for one brother, but...

"Where's Raph?" 

Leo knows what Mikey's really asking- why isn't Raph here? Why did they separate? Why is Donnie alone? Unconscious? What happened?- and to all of that, he only had one answer. 

"I don't know." 

He turns on his t-phone and manually opens one of Donnie's eyes, cautiously pointing the screen light at and away from it. His pupil's stay dilated despite the change in lighting, and Mikey creeps up behind him. Leo doesn't acknowledge him, keeping his tone even. "Donnie. Donnie. Come on, bud, wake up. We need you to tell us where Raph is."  

Donnie doesn't stir and Leo guesses is that this is a problem pizza won't fix. "Mi-"

"The closest warehouse is for electronics." Mikey interrupts knowingly. Leo looks up in surprise, and finds Mikey on his t-phone, the green hue over his face hinting that his younger brother is probably reading off the GPS. "It's not far. They could have run from there. I'm gonna look."

Mikey starts to exit and Leo gets to his feet. "Take a minute to think this through. Aren't you the one always telling us not to split up?" 

"It's morning, dude. And mafia's been on the down-low. They probably won't even be there." Mikey hoists himself up the fridge, and though his smile is hopeful and bright, his gaze is sharp. "'Sides, Raph's not the best at quitting a fight. If they are, I gotta pull him out."

It's an observation masked as a firm plea, but Leo reads him loud and clear. I'm not leaving without our brother.

Leo doesn't argue. He flicks his screen and goes to contacts. Mikey's t-phone rings and he picks up curiously as Leo kneels down next to their brother. "Go."

Mikey disappears through the window and Leo sets the t-phone on the armrest, listening as their youngest brother travels with almost soundless steps. Every now and then, a clunk or soft sound of triumph will flow in through the speaker as Leo checks Donnie over for visible wounds. The only new injury is a purple bruise on his arm, and he picks up the t-phone to get a closer study. 

"He was hit."

He doesn't realize he spoke out loud until Mikey's asking, "D?"

Leo sets the t-phone back down and begins digging through Donnie's belt. "Yeah. And if I know Donnie..." He pulls out a dart of pale green liquid and smirks. "Our genius brother is at it again. Looks like he borrowed a dart."

"You don't think he was gonna use it on us, do you?"

"Just you." Leo teases as he wonders when the Italian mafia went from missiles to tranquilizer darts. In all reality, he's betting it's either for the collectibles shelf or for analyzing, but the idea of Donnie collecting tranq serum to quiet Mikey when he's at his worst isn't entirely unlikely. 

He should bring that up next April Fools...

There's muffled speech that isn't his younger brother, so Leo remains silent, going back to examining his arm. Whoever was aiming did a poor job, and the needle is tucked deeper in the skin that it should have been. Some of it must have broke off when ripped out, and he knows he's going to have to remove that when they get home. 

He's debating how he's going to do that when Mikey pipes up. 

"Nothing."

Leo blinks out of his thoughts. "Nothing at all?"

"No Raph. Couldn't do a lot because there were guys. Some were looking at one of those darts though. I grabbed it."

"Good idea. You're coming back."

"Just gonna do some parameter checking. He's somewhere out here."

"...Alright." Leo doesn't think that's the worst idea, and he absently studies Donnie, wondering if they'd walked straight into a trap. He suddenly notices that his younger brother hasn't so much as stirred the entire time he's been there, and worries about how long he'll be kept under. 

Then again...

Slow breathing, clammy, cool to the touch, pale, slow heart rate, unconscious- It occurs to him that there's no real way of know if this is because of a simple knock-out tranq or a subtle form of poison. He bites his lip as he leans against the bottom of the couch, and after a moment of contemplation, turns on flash to take a picture of the dart. 

He shoots a message at their lead mafia informant. 

<Mafia's got new gear. It hit Donnie. Any info?

Donnie's not going to be happy that they're turning to Rockwell's expertise, but he doesn't appear to be waking up anytime soon, and they need to find out if it's lethal before it gets worse. He'll be less than pleased if they let him die because of whatever petty intelligence war the monkey has going on with his younger brother. 

Speaking of brothers...

He keeps his voice low, leaning on the couch. "Mikey?" 

"Alley around the corner." 

Leo's brows shoot up. "That was fast."

"I'm a speedy guy."

The smug comment lacks real pride. "What's wrong?" 

A moment of pause. "I found something." 

Leo does not like the worry in his tone. "Not Raph?"

"Kinda?"

"Michelangelo."

"Someone chucked his gear." 

Leo shoots back upright. "What?"

"His pads and sais and everything. I've got them, but I think they took him, Leo."

His throat feels tight, but he swallows the nerves. "The mafia must have laid a trap and they just walked right into it. They really are back, and they're targeting us."

But how back are they? What are they dealing with? Why hadn't the Mutanimals mentioned that they are up and about?  How big of a threat are they facing, and what is with the mafia and taking down one brother to run off with another?! Same brothers too! 

What is this, some sick trend?

"What do we do?" 

The question is almost an echo, said with an anxiety-ridden patience that hints it may have been repeated. Leo realizes that his younger brother is slipping in through the window, dropping on the ground and hanging up. One hand holds the t-phone, but his arms are cradling familiar gear, sais glinting as he walks over. Leo lowers his hand and forces his thoughts to center. 

Mikey's looking for guidance, and they need a plan. 

The light from the window brightens the room so that it's no longer one of shadows, but that only adds to the ominous feature, reminding him that day is upon them. They need to get back home, but they also need to find their kidnapped brother. 

-kidnapped. He shouldn't have sent him for pizza. He should have called them back home-

"We need to get home." It's more abrupt than he means it to be, and he takes a steady breath so he can think clearly. "We can't man a search in broad daylight, but we can get in contact with the Mutanimals and pinpoint places to hit."

He looks at the roof, compiling his thoughts. "With Vizioso out of the picture, there's a number of options to why they could be targeting us. If they're attempting kidnappings instead of shooting us down, then the chances of them taking him just to kill him are pretty low. They could use him as bait to get to the rest of us, which gives us time. We regroup, plan, and then break him out come dusk."

The tension in his chest smoothes out as he turns towards his younger brother, who had visibly relaxed. A devious smirk forms as Mikey helpfully adds, "They'll be begging us to take him back once Raph's done with them."

Leo quickly shakes his head- their brother's been kidnapped, this is not the appropriate time to laugh- and then stands, turning a carefully modeled expression between their unconscious brother and the window. "We should get him towards the PartyWagon, but I'm not sure-"

Mikey shoves Raph's gear into his arms and then eagerly whips out his nunchucks, letting the chains fall to his feet. "I've got an idea!"

Leo wants to say no, but he was about to ask for a suggestion. 

Donnie'll just have to forgive him. He got himself into this mess anyway...

"Fine. Let's hear it." 

 

Notes:

Guess who’s POV comes next~?

Chapter 5: Not Gonna Hurt You, Yet

Summary:

I can finally remove the “canon violence tag”!

And this chapter is me being nice

Notes:

Shout-out to the song Dismemberment by Blue Kid

Everyone else I know is disturbed by it, so it’s one of my “headphone only” songs, that way they can just pretend it doesn’t exist.

What can I say? It’s good for trauma.

So don't you squirm, don't you fret

I'm not gonna hurt you, yet

I just feel the need to be getting

A little of you, a lot of blood-letting

***

Raph's surroundings swim uncomfortably as the numb bliss of sleep leaves, and the first thing he notices is that there's a dull burning sensation in trails across his body. His muscles tense as the numb leaves and the pain becomes less hazy, and he can feel tight bandages across his arms and legs. Donnie must have fixed him up.

What did he get himself into this time?

He groans as he raises his head, squinting at the blinding light that's originating from directly above him, and then lets it sag back down, wondering where he is. The area slowly sorts itself out around him, and he notes he's in a colorless room with gray walls. There's all kind of gear and machines that he doesn't recognize, and then some that he does, like the centrifuge in the corner next to different colored serums and vials.

He blinks once. Twice.

And then he realizes that this looks like a horror movie's mad scientist lab.

His entire body jerks at the flush of fear, but it doesn't do more than that, and he quickly realizes why. He's laying flat on his carapace, metal shackles around his ankles and wrists, and a long leather bind wrapping around his plastron, evidently to keep him from going anywhere. His head is the only part of his body that's free, and he uses it to do an immediate scan of the lab, checking for the mad scientist that tied him down.

The lab is void of anyone but it's captive, and he twists his left wrist under the shackles, trying to see if there's any way to get it free. The experimental twisting turns into frustrated tugging that only proves to hurt, and he growls his frustration, raising his head enough to whack it back on the suspiciously comfortable surface. 

Now that adrenaline has a hold of him with no way for physical release, his mind runs a million miles a minute, attempting to piece together how he ended up here.

He was feeding Chompy... Noticed Don wasn't in the lab... Hunted him down... Emotions. Ick.

They went- they went to get pizza?

-There was a warehouse trap. And they walked right into it.

Mafia.

Donnie was hit and he pulled the stupidest move in the history of stupid moves.

He knocks the back of his head against the surface with more force, as if in punishment for his reckless idiocy, and then glares up at the roof, heart pounding as wonders what happened after he'd been knocked out. Donnie was alone, barely conscious, and he just left him! He just HAD to go after the mafia, didn’t he? It's like he wanted Don to get grabbed! 

A growl breaks through the silence, a sliver of dread churning in the pit of his stomach. 

Donnie was right. 

They should have stayed together. He shoulda just led them away.

Even drugged the nerd’s smarter than him. 

He pictures his younger brother strapped down in a different room, currently occupying the missing mad scientist's time. It’s their worst nightmare come to life. Donnie’s bound to be scared out of his mind, probably about to be sliced open, and Raph’s just sitting there like bump on a log. Completely useless.

He grits his teeth and resumes his earlier struggle, twisting and wrenching until each tug against the shackles begin digging into his skin. This only ignites his frustration into a boiling fury, dissipating the fear in his gut. He’ll kill them. Vizioso, the scientists- every single lacky who thought it was a good idea to play capture-a-turtle! And if any of those mutant haters so much as think about laying a hand on his little brother-

"Intriguing."

Raph jolts, raising his head to locate the source of the voice, and locks gazes with a blank-faced man with a lab coat and clipboard. Brown hair is unkept, piercing gray eyes meet his gaze with a distinct lack of any particular emotion, and there's a couple different knife-looking tools in a large coat pocket. 

An image of them being stabbing into his little brother flashes in his mind's eye, and he's already resolved to break that guy's nose the minute he can swing his fists.

The unnoticed visitor is unperturbed by the withering glare and bared teeth. “Don't stop on my account. Continue pulling on the restrains. I'm curious to see how long it takes for you to break your wrist."

The mad scientist says it simply, and nothing about his smooth tone hints that it’s meant as sarcasm or a mocking jab. He’s completely serious, patiently waiting for Raph to follow through. Who in their right mind wants something like that? He calls him like he sees them, and this guy is definitely mad scientist material.

Raph ceases all attempts of escape since this dude seems to be waiting for him to start again. "Where's my brother?"

His captor stares at him a moment more and then frowns, tapping the back of his pen on his clipboard as he moves over to one of the desks across the room. "Disappointing. But, I must have patience. There will be other chances to see how far he'll push."

Great. This guy’s the kind of psycho that talks to himself. 

That’s just his luck, isn’t it? 

Shaking fists clench. "You heard me! The other turtle- where is he?"

Again, his question is blatantly ignored. "I swear, if you so much as poke him with one of your mad science tools-!"

"Relax, Raphael." His captor drawls as he scribbles something down on his clipboard, laying it on the desk. He doesn't even bother facing him, as if he has better things to do than have a conversation with his captive. "I didn't manage to get a hold of Donatello. As the story goes, he was with you, and then he wasn't. The retrievers were too incompetent to consider leaving men behind to wait for when the others showed up."

He knows their names. The mob never bothered learning anything about them before...

What else does he know?

He sneers at the turned back. "And I'm just supposed to take your word for it?"

"I imagine my word means nothing." The mad scientist walks away from the table to cross to Raph's left side, and he cranes his neck to keep an eye on him. "But, really, I have no reason to lie to you."

There must be some kind of tray behind his head, because he hears him pick up an item with a soft clink, and then he turns to Raph, leaning over and getting waaaaay to far into his personal bubble.

“Hold still.” 

It’s a dumb command considering he can’t move, and Raph gets a clear view of two larger-than-usual front teeth. Even amidst a flare of panic, a smug amusement stirs. Bet he hears about it a lot. No wonder he became a lacky under an loudmouth like Vizioso. 

He runs fingers over Raph's upper plastron, examining the area where shell meets skin, and he squirms uncomfortably with the unsolicited touch. "What are you doing? Personal space, man!"

"I need a bit of plastron."

"You what!?"

"Only a bit." He repeats, as if he's not discussing using the scalpel to slice off a piece of Raph.

"No! Nope! No way!" He resumes his struggles for escape, unashamedly more frantic this time.

"Calm down." His captor grumbles absently. "It shouldn't hurt much."

"How would you know!? I'm the resident mutant turtle!"

The mad scientist ignores him as he rests one hand on his bare plastron- wait, he has no gear on. It's like he's naked! This has to be messed up on so many levels- and there's a soft click. A light buzzing begins, and Raph realizes that the thing in his hand is actually some kind of miniature buzzsaw. 

"Wa-wha-WAIT-!" 

The blade comes in contact with the edges of the lightning bolt on his plastron. Raph can feel it sawing through the hard shell, nerve endings in his plastron screaming as the protection is forcefully removed.  He tries to pull away from the sensation, but he's kept still by the shackles. 

His assailant doesn't even seem to notice, cutting until the sharp blade skims over the skin underneath.

He clenches his jaw and turns his head away, squeezing his eyes shut. Blood rushes in his ears, but he refuses to show any sign of discomfort or pain- owowowowow, stopstopstopit hurtshurtshurtshurts nohurtsstophurtdstophurtsowstoppleaseno-

"There." 

The saw goes quiet, and he slumps in relief, wet eyes flickering open. Sweaty hands slacken as he allows himself a moment to breath through the leftover throbs, dimly aware of the blood oozing from the invaded area. It pools up on the edge of the awkward curve that's left, leaking down his plastron as the scientist holds up the bloodied shell. 

Nausea washes over Raph when he lifts up a towel to wipe it off like one would clean a pair of glasses, calmly holding a piece of him in his hands.

I'm so gonna hurl...

The scientist examines the piece small enough to fit in his palm and nods to no one, turning his face out of Raph's view once more. Raph swallows the acid taste as he listens to the soft clicking from where his captor is possibly typing something out of his view. 

The silence stretches on like a warning, malicious and taunting all on its own. Raph hates how it burrows into the corners of his mind, quickening his pulse as he wonders what his captor's doing out of his view. He can’t get his pounding heart to calm, unable to stand the pooling blood or the throbbing ache where his shell used to be- 

All he can imagine is him fiddling with an even bigger buzzsaw, and the swimming terror is corrupting him down to his core. 

He releases a trembling breath, and then he realizes that he also spoke, processing his own question as it cracks the silence. "S-so what exactly's the plan here?"

His voice is exactly as he needs it to be, frustrated and sarcastic, without only a hint of the panic that he has completely under control. "Am I bait- or is that going to be the first of my many pieces when you slice and dice me?"

"Do you really think I'd waste resources fixing you up if I was planned on dismembering you? Please." A sharp beep and then- Ooookay, the table is moving, it's moving, it's- not a table, definitely not a table, not panicking!

In the back of his mind's eye, he's back in Stockman's lab, watching with growing horror as the freakish bug approaches with a brain worm. He's going to put that thing in his brain- no, no, no, get it off- get it off- get it off-!

He's lying upright now, suddenly annoyed that he's shorter than his captor, along with practically everyone else they know, and lets that feeling push away the others. He's grateful that the mad scientist is distracted with cleaning the blood from the area of missing plastron and then putting a gauze pad over it. He presses on the adhesive tape to make sure it sticks before turning away. 

Evidently, the psycho does not want him bleeding out.

Raph doesn't pay attention to anything but the fact he can barely breathe, unable to do more than remind himself that he's in an entirely different bucket of trouble. He's not in Stockman's lab. There's no brain worm. No mind invasion at all. 

He's just- getting cut to pieces by a mad scientist. 

He can feel his breathing evening out, heart rate slowing as the adrenaline from the pain slowly dies away. He closes his eyes in exasperation because there is no reason why that should be comforting.

He jerks from his thoughts when the unwanted touch returns to unwrap his left arm. He glances over to the mildly curious scientist as he reveals red burns that twist around the limb like snakes, no doubt caused by the net.

The mad scientist studies them for a second before picking up his clipboard and scribbling something down. And then madman touches one with his pen, and the sting stabs a warning at Raph’s brain. "Wha- ay!"

"That hurt?" A thoughtful glance. "One to ten, rate your pain."

"I'm going to help rate yours if you don't-" He cuts himself off with a strangled gasp as the mad scientist shifts the clipboard under his arm and presses down, the warmth of his hand setting all the sensitive nerves on edge. 

Raph's body jerks to the side on pure instinct, trying to get away from the sensation.

"Let go!"

"Rate your pain."

Raph grits his teeth as the feeling sends waves of pain up his arms, and he swears it's like his other burns are reacting to it. They're hot with the same agony that's eating away at his skin, digging deep into his flesh and trying to seer through every cell- stopstopstop- stupid scientist stupid burns stupidstupidstupid! 

"F-Four! Six! I- Something! Just- just let go!"

He does, and the pain doesn't immediately fade like Raph hoped it would. The burning shifts into a constant prickling sensation, like his arm fell asleep next to an intense heat, and he drops his head against the cushioned not-table, trying to breathe through the panic. "You- do that again, and I'll make sure- show you exactly what that feels like- when I get outta here."

"It's superficial." He informs him as if Raph is suppose to care. The next lines of thought are almost an afterthought, not directed for him at all. "I should look into the current. Truly frustrating. I thought that was figured out."

The nutjob goes back for his clipboard and- huh. Nutjob.

With the buck teeth, crazy hair, the absolute insanity- it's like nature messed up and stuck a squirrel in an ugly human body. Mikey was probably going to kill him for naming a villain, but he didn't get kidnapped, and Donnie got to name Newtralizer, so, really, Raph had every right.

Fair is fair.

That decided, he glares Nutjob down. "Alright fine! You don't want to chop me up. So- why the heck am I even here?!"

"Experimentation." He smirks in self-satisfaction. Looks like Nutjob actually has expressions other than jerk and bland. "I have a goal, and you're going to help me reach it."

"How about I break that clipboard over your skull and maybe we can talk about it." 

Whatever it is that he wants, he sure isn't getting it after all this.

"I don't need nor want your consent." He sets the clipboard down. "In fact, it would be prudent if you were to fight me every step of the way. I have a deadline, and the quicker you break, the more likely it is that I'll reach it."

"I don't break easy." He snarls because Nutjob is sounding nutter by the second.

"You might be surprised."

Okay, so that's ominous as all get out.

Raph's scoffs and turns his head away, not spooked in the slightest. His brothers will go looking for him and Donnie when they don't return with pizza. After they find Donnie, they'll find him, and he'll get his chance to knock the buck teeth straight from Nutjob's smug face. 

If, Nutjob’s telling him the truth and Donnie really isn’t strapped down somewhere.

His eyes stray back to Nutjob's position when hears him fiddling with something metal.

Nutjob appears back into his line of sight with a tray of objects, including an empty needle and a tourniquet. He sets them to the side, and Raph's heart jumps to his throat.

He knows what those mean. Donnie's done enough blood tests to check for viruses to make them easy to recognize- freaking sewer life. The needle seems unreasonably large, and he struggles against his binds, definitely not wanting his blood in the hands of a mad scientist. 

Especially not one who works for a group that hates all things mutant. 

"Don't! Don't touch me, you disgusting, squirrelly freak of nature-"

"Look in the mirror, turtle." Is the clipped response as he sets the needle down and wraps the tourniquet around his upper bicep. "Now relax or this is going to hurt far more than it has to."

"Let me go! Get this thing off me or I'm gonna-!"

"You're tied down and at my mercy," He tsks as he cleans off the area. "I really don't see the point in these constant threats."

"-knock your buckteeth out and cram them down your throat-"

"For a mutant that plays human, you are certainly barbaric." Nutjob finally stops, passing him an look that seems more amused than frightened, and then continues undaunted. "I suggest you at least attempt to relax the muscle."

Plays human? 

"I'm not going to be playing anything when I-!"

He lifts the needle and places a firm hand over his wrist. "I did warn you." 

"DON'T YOU DA-AAH!" 

Nutjob methodically stabs the needle into his arm. The pain is instantaneous, so much worse than Donnie's careful procedures, and he writhes as his other hand claws at the fabric underneath him. His limbs stretch and strain, torso kept relatively still under the grip of the leather strap. His vision blurs and spins; the scream kept in his brain as it frantically tries to process what’s being inflicted.

His vision is blackening around the edges when he feels the sickening sensation of the needle slowly leaving the vein. His body slump when he's finally free of it, trembling and lightheaded as the restrains keep him straight, denying him the instinct to curl up and cradle the throbbing limb. He stares down at the floor as it comes in and out of focus.

Nutjob sets the needle down, his tone cocky as he unwraps the tourniquet.

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" The expectant pause is met with silence. "Hopefully, you won't be so stubborn next time."

...Next time?

Raph wants to feel the familiar rage cursing through his body, but he only quivers and pants, trying to swallow the lump of fear in the back of his throat.

"Oh? No crude response?"

Now he's definitely mocking him.

His teeth grit as- yep, there it is- a new surge of anger overcomes the pain that threatens to reveal his weakness, and he raises his head to meet the cool gaze. 

His face being the only thing free, he works with what he has. Their gazes locked, he swiftly hacks up a loogie and fires it directly between Nutjob's eyes, earning a startled shriek as the scientist stumbles back, scrubbing his lab coat sleeve against his face.

Raph lets a shaky smirk cross his face, taking the previous satisfaction and making it his own. "How's- that?"

The scientist lowers his sleeve, face twisted and eyes burning. Raph juts up his chin, mocking smirk morphing into a prominent sneer. 

"Try me, Nutjob." 

 

Notes:

I, uh, I don’t like… needles…

Also

RAPH, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU

WE DON’T TAUNT THE VILLAINS THAT HAVE US UNDER THEIR MERCY

IT’S, LIKE, CAPTIVE 101!

Chapter 6: 'Til It Happens To You

Summary:

They ask you how you are, and you just have to say you're fine when you're not really fine, but you just can't get into it because they would never understand-

Notes:

I stole some fun headcanons from Tumblr to shape this poor boi. Stress issues from canon that’s not technically canon but would be fun if it was?

Heck yeah!

Somebody loses their somebody every day

But you'll never really know what it's like

'Til you wakе up to some real bad news

You'll nеver really know how it feels

'Til it happens to you

***

"What do you mean there's no point!?" Leo unfolds his hands from behind his back to point at his fellow leader accusingly. Slash puts up his hands as if to ward off an attack as he barks, "You said it's been their stronghold for months!"

"Yeah, until Vizioso got carted off to prison!" Slash growls. "A bunch of stuff got shut down or moved! They've been quiet for weeks, scrambling around tryin' to find a new leader! We haven't heard a single peep outta them!" 

Leo lets out a brief, mock laugh as he rests his fingers on his forehead. "Great. Another gang leader with a thing against mutants. That's just what we need!" 

"Dudes, if they got 'im, we gotta get him outta there." Mondo speaks up from where he's nervously fiddling with his skateboard. "Those guys are the total opposite of rad." 

"That's great to know and all, but the hotel was our only lead." Leo snaps as he turns to glare at the lizard, masking his panic with determined anger. Mondo holds up his board and shrinks under it, so the leader in blue huffs before looking between Slash and Leatherhead. "Is there anywhere else they might take captives?" 

"Not that we know of." Leatherhead admits, almost sheepishly. "We have been guarding TCRI at your request, and did not think to turn our attention on the gang." 

"Why not?" Leo challenges, more bite in his tone than he meant. He'd trusted them to keep an eye out- All of this could have been avoided if they had just been doing their job! "We haven't seen any sign of Kraang lately! What are you guys even doing over there?" 

"More than you!" Slash steps up, drawing Leo's glare from Leatherhead and meeting it with the same intensity. "Rockwell's got all kinds of stuff monitoring portals- and in case you forgot- our place burnt down. We've had other things to think about!" 

Leo remains unmoving, but his heart is no longer in the glare. He wilts uncertainly, and Leatherhead lays a patient hand on Slash's arm. "My friend, this is not the time-"

"Back off!" Slash tears his arm away, never breaking eye contact. "He's not going to stand here and tell my team what's what! My guys have been keeping an eye on your precious city, while your team can't even be bothered to get out there and get your hands dirty! " 

Despite the tension locking his muscles, Leo flinches.

He's right. They haven't been doing much of anything since they'd taken down Kavaxas, and Leo can only blame himself for that. 

It's not that he meant to let some new crime boss take over the Italian gang, but it looked like they'd finally covered all their bases, and he'd opted for his team to take some downtime. He'd been nervous to go out while he's second-guessing his every move, wondering if Splinter would advise him to do otherwise. 

The constant notion of something being missing kept throwing him off-balance. He thought it was a good time for him to recuperate, to get used to dealing with each crisis on his own, but clearly this was a bad move. He's the leader. He's the sensei now. There's no one to blame but himself for the fact that one brother is still down and the other is missing. 

No, worse than missing- kidnapped, and by a gang that despises all things mutant. 

How could he let this happen?

"Leonardo, I..." The anger that hardened the gruff tone is gone, and Leo realizes that he's been staring at their father's altar. Leo wonders how long he's been silent, immediately facing their guests, confused by the regret in his gaze. Slash is the one in the right here. Leo deserves to know that. He isn't being fair. 

"..I didn't mean-" 

"No." He interrupts with a brisk wave. "No, you're right. Thank you for keeping an eye on the Kraang. It was wrong of me to try and pass the blame on you." 

Slash looks hesitant, so he forges on, cupping his chin between two fingers. "We could always check the restaurant, but it's been pretty desolate since Vizioso's imprisonment. Our best bet might be to locate the Fulci Twins, and see what information we can wrangle out of them. Even if they don't know where he's being kept, they have to know something that could give us a solid lead." 

He hits his fist against his palm in satisfaction and turns to the three others in the room with him, looking between them expectantly. He's used to a chorus of arguments or agreement, usually some constructive criticism that tends to be a little more harsh than its meant, but he gets some nods of consent, followed by Mondo bouncing to his feet and pumping his board in the air with a very Mikey-esc, "Let's do this!" 

At the reminder of his little brother, he strides for the main room, leaving it open for the mutanimals to stay or follow as they please. He misses the way that two pairs of knowing eyes look at the altar and then each other, before Slash goes to stop Mondo from touching the weapons. 

Leo's demeanor softens when he spots his little brothers, one sleeping with his head in Mikey's lap, and the younger resting a hand on his shell as he messes with his t-phone, a small bundle of red and pink curled on his shoulder. 

"Where's Rockwell?" Leo questions as he walks over to kneel next to Donnie, instinctively checking his temperature. He's still pale and there's a notable hitch his breath, but his heartrate is stronger than before, so he hopes that means he'll come out of it soon. 

"Lab." Mikey's attention is solely focused on one of the puzzle apps that seemed to enthrall him more recently, and he takes the hand off Donnie so he can scratch the top of Chompy's head with his finger. "Borrowing Donnie's stuff, I think. Kept muttering about primative." 

"Primitive?" 

Mikey's phone cheers and his face lights up, using both hands to rapidly swipe away at the brightly colored boxes. "Yeah, that." 

Leo rolls his eyes in exasperation and Chompy makes a sort of squawking sound. He stomps his front feet against Mikey's shoulder and his body shivers with an untold joy, watching Leo as if he's the sole object of his desires, and he hasn't seen him in months. It's obvious he wants attention, but the turtle who would be happiest to give it to him isn't there. 

The leader offers a sympathetic smile and takes the alien off Mikey's shoulder, cupping him in one hand and scratching his shell as he starts for the lab. Despite knowing that he's probably not going anywhere any time soon, Leo reminds, "Keep an eye on Donnie. Let me know when he wakes up."

"Can do!" 

He enters the lab. "Rockwell?" 

"What is it?"

The psychic monkey in question is at Donnie's desk, looking through a microscope with his little brother's vials and equipment scattered around him. It's weird to see someone else working in his space, but Leo dismisses the notion, asking, "What's the verdict?" 

"The state of the equipment in this lab is horrendous. Your brother really should be more receptive to my advice. I would never let my lab fall into such a state." 

"I'll make sure the message is passed along." Leo lies as he sets Chompy on his shoulder, freeing up his hands to begin collecting the unused vials, if only for the sake of something to do.

Just because Rockwell had connections from his time as a human scientist did not mean he had any right to judge his brother who could only do the best with what he had, but Donnie didn't need defending, and they had more important topics to focus on. "And the tranq?"

"Oh, yes. That." He dismissively turns back to the microscope and Leo looks up to roof as if praying for patience, offering Chompy a small smile when he headbutts the side of his neck. 

He's not exactly sure what to do with him, so he pets the top of his head as Rockwell states, "This tranquilizer dart was manufactured by the same person or people who make the weaponry and gases. Their skills don't seem to truly lie in alchemy, for there are far too many chemical discrepancies in this one vial, likely in all the others as well. Something that won't change much in a gaseous substance made to be deadly, but is in poor design if you want to keep the mutant you're hitting alive." 

Leo's gotten more clearly answers out of Donnie in a mad scientist rant. Panic wells up, but he keeps it under wraps. "So... Is Donnie in any danger or not?" Breathe, Leo.

"Theoretically."

"I'm not asking for theories. I'm asking for answers."  His fists clench. Donnie could be actively dying in the other room and he's stuck trying to pry an explanation from the most narcissistic mutant out there!

"Gonna have to give it to us straight doc. Is it gonna kill him?" Slash comes to Leo's rescue- or, more accurately, Rockwell's rescue, because every one of Leo's instincts are geared up and ready to inform the mutant ape exactly what he thought of him and his assessment. 

Leo settles for fuming in silence as they're joined by the larger of the Mutanimals. 

"Seems unlikely." Rockwell reassures after giving Leo a dirty look. "However, I don't believe it has any plans on vacating his bloodstream in the near future. Keeping him from doing anything strenuous would be in his best interest if he doesn't want to suffer a stroke or heart attack."

Leo takes a slow breath in, and then lets it out. Finally, a diagnosis that he can work with. "Fine. Thank you." 

Rockwell mutters something under his breath, and Leo doesn't waste any energy figuring out what he said. Chompy moves and he glances down, finding that he's readjusting his crouched position, glaring at the mutant ape as if he'd personally wronged him. 

He catches Leo staring, and seems to relax his stance, squeaking curiously and tilting his head like he was asking if they were finished intimidating the monkey. 

Leo feels some annoyance leave as he scratches under the purring alien's chin, now having some idea of why Raph found himself so attached to his pets. 

Raph.

"Rockwell, would you happen to have any idea of where the Fulci Twins are lurking?" Leo asks as he takes on his most polite tone, hoping to get some information out of him while he still seems to be in a sharing mood. 

He gets the stink eye, but Rockwell consents to his command. "No, not really. It's possible that I might be able to locate them if need be, but a lot about their operations were comprised with your team sending Vizioso off, and most of his higher goons dropped off the map. For all I know, they might not even be in New York anymore."

That... Would definitely throw a wrench in his plans. 

Why did everything have to be so hard?!

"Okay." Leo mutters instead. "So how about we- no, that won't work." 

He bites his lip, several ideas flashing in his mind, but he's not sure if any of them are good enough. He needs a solid plan, something that's more than the Mutanimals usual 'run in and hit them', but they're already down two of his teammates and he can't live with himself if he's also the cause of taking down their third. 

Sensei always said that patience is key, and not to run into a battle that he's not ready for... But he's been avoiding battles and look where it's gotten him. No leads, two brothers out, and he could be gearing up to lose another. 

He doesn't know what to do, and he can't ask because everyone is looking expectantly at him, like he should know, and maybe he should, but how is he supposed to do this without-

An abrupt squeal makes him flinch, and then Chompy leaps from his shoulder and ducks into his shell, carapace knocking all the vials over like a bowling ball meeting pins. Leo scrambles to grab them before they hit the ground, suddenly aware of how hard his heart is pounding. 

He sets them on the table and takes a steadying breath, watching the proud Chompy prance about and ignoring the cautious "Leonardo?" from Leatherhead. 

He needs to be in control. Why does he keep freezing like this?

He clears his throat, ignoring the sensation of it closing on him. He can't seem to switch off the constant anxiety, and Donnie said that too much stress could trigger that. Just one of the annoying leftovers of the coma. "I might need time to think on this. There's really not much to go on here."

"I say we go looking for a base and whack the answers out of them!" Slash proclaims triumphantly, as if he'd solved all their problems in one go. 

Leo shakes his head. "Bad idea. If we go in guns ablaze then they'll think we're willing to jump to drastic measures, and might do so themselves. Whatever their intention is to take us, we can't do anything that might make them speed up their plans or just decide to dump his body and be done with him."

He swallows thickly, and presses on. "Our best bet is to take a stealthier route until we know where Raph is being kept. Ninja stealth all the way." Slash frowns, but Leo presses on. "The first step should be looking into who's running the mob so we know who we're dealing with. Rockwell, do you think you-"

"Leo!" 

The moment the urgency in his little brother's voice reaches him, Leo's shoots out of the lab and darts to the back of the couch, finding a panicky Mikey hovering over a trembling Donnie, one hand tightly squeezed in his own. Their brother's other arm jerks and twitches as he stares blankly up at the roof, each inhale sounding like a wheeze, eyes wide open and unblinking as numb tears slip down his face. 

"What happened?!" 

Leo drops by Donnie's head, instinctively slipping a hand under his neck to brace it, hoping to stop the wheezed breathes. Donnie doesn't react to the new contact or the worried voices that chime in behind him, and Mikey bursts, "I don't know! It looked like he was having a nightmare, so I tried to wake him up, and then- this!" 

"It's a seizure." Rockwell reports immediately. "The nightmare must have triggered a rise of distress and therefore a rise in blood pressure- egads, man! Turn him on his side, what are you waiting for?!" 

Leo jumps a bit at the abrupt command and then hurries to obey, cautiously rolling him onto his left side and balancing him there, heart in his throat as Mikey rubs up and down Donnie's arm, shushing him and whispering gentle reassurances. There's no evidence that Donnie knows that they're there at all, and Leo's heart practically stops when he feels his entire body stiffen with a choked breath- then his eyes flicker shut as he goes still and limp, letting out a soft exhale. 

"That's it, Donnie. You're okay. You're okay." Mikey mumbles in a tight voice as Leo lays him back on the couch, resuming the stroking motions on his upper plastron. "It's over now. We're here. We're right here. You're okay." 

Leo opens and then shuts his mouth, finding that his voice isn't responding. 

Mondo asks for him. "Is he okay?" 

"As I said, his nightmare must have triggered a rise in blood pressure and it's quite possible he almost gave himself a stroke, which would have triggered the seizure." Rockwell states sharply, though his expression could be mistaken as one of concern. "And this probably won't be the last time either, as long as the tranq remains in his blood stream." 

Leo doesn't think he can handle watching another seizure like that, and he doubts Mikey can either. He wonders if Raph has been hit with one of the darts too, and his stomach twists at the thought of him going through this without them nearby to at least be there for him. He doubts they can do much more than that. Donnie didn't even know what to do when Karai wasn't on their side and April was bitten by her venom, and Sensei ended up having to use the-

"Healings hands." There's conversation going on around him, but it halts at his realization. He shrivels in his spot, completely conscious of stupid he is for not thinking of it sooner, and how hoarse he sounds, but he forces himself to calm. 

The entire room stares at him and he takes a careful breath. Just breathe, Leo. Breathe.

He clears his throat, and his voice comes out stronger. Good.

 "Leatherhead. Can you take Donnie to the dojo? I have something I want to try." 

Leatherhead nods and Leo shakily gets to his feet, pretending that he doesn't notice the way that Mikey's watching him. He's not the one they need to be concerned with here. 

Leatherhead crosses around the couch, kneeling down to carefully scoop him up. Donnie's brow furrows in the scaley arms, releasing a faint whimper of discomfort, and Leatherhead whispers a sympathetic, "You are safe, my friend."  

Leo can't help the rising urge to make the large beast put down his fragile brother, but Mikey goes to his side and takes his hand, and it's easier to repress. He squeezes Mikey's hand in an offering of comfort and then removes his from his grip, making his way towards the dojo. 

He can't mess up; he can't get anything wrong, so he strides for the scrolls to find the one that he needs, gingerly looking through some of his father's most prized possessions. Splinter wrote them himself over the years, dragged from meditation memory, and he always said that the secrets of the clan would belong to the eldest and his brothers someday. 

Leo just always thought he'd be around to teach them. 

He opens the scroll that he needs, looking over the Japanese's writing, and then glances over the paper to where Mikey's hovering. Leatherhead sets Donnie down on the mat Mikey's pulled out. Mondo walks over to the youngest terrapin with an anxious red shell pacing in his hands- oh, right, he forgot Chompy in the lab- and Leo looks back to the paper. 

"What's he doing?" 

"Healing hands, bro."

"Healing what-now?"

"Healing hands. Sensei taught it to us. Gonna banish the tranq right out of him!"

"Rad! Wait- how come he didn't do it before?"

The letters are all blurring together. Leo has to manually force his hands to stop squeezing the paper before he crumples it. 

"Dunno. Maybe cause it wasn't as bad?"

"Think your bro'll be okay?" 

"Totally. Leo'll fix him and then we'll all go find Raph."

There isn't a glimmer of hesitation in Mikey's answer and Leo ignores the guilt writhing in his chest. He can't let his brothers down. He can't.

"Leonardo?"

He glances over at Slash, wondering when he'd come up behind him. "Yes?" 

"Um. So. Just..." Slash can't seem to find a place to land his skittish gaze, and that draws Leo's attention more than anything. "Leader to leader- are you... Okay?"

Leo stares at him for a long moment, and then reluctantly lowers the scroll. "Sure. Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Just seemed like... You know..." The snapping turtle is an exact replica of Raph when he's struggling to fight past the awkwardness of a heart-to-heart because of genuine concern. Leo sometimes forgets that this turtle used to be Spike, and that most of his mannerisms probably did come from Raph. 

Slash can probably read him as well as his brothers can.  

Leo feels his walls crack and he sighs. "I'm worried. I've got one family member down and I'm not sure where the other is. I don't like knowing he's out there."

"I'm worried about Raphael too." Slash admits gruffly. "But we'll get him outta there. He's the strongest outta all of you, and he's not going to give them an easy time."

Leo chuckles airily, "Yeah." 

"If you need anything, I got you." 

I need Raph home. I need to know this'll work. I need my father.

Leo nods. "Thanks, Slash." 

Slash makes his way back to the circle of mutants. Leo does one last scan over the scroll, carefully rolling it up and then putting it away. He needs to stop stalling. He has a job to do. His family is counting on him. His family...

His family isn't all here, are they? 

Ergh. He's in the worst brain space today.

"Mikey." He walks over to his younger brother with his best I'm-totally-in-control voice and Mikey straightens importantly, saluting him. "Check in with April and Casey. See if they can take off school early. And call Karai. See if she's open to offering her assistance- but, you know, don't push anything if she's busy with clan stuff."

"Gotchya bro!" Mikey eagerly pulls out his t-phone and begins dialing, so Leo takes the free spot next Donnie's chest, folding his hands. He can sense the curious stares around him, but he ignores them for the sake of centering himself. 

Breathe, Leo. 

In, and out. In, and out. In...

"Mu. Ryo. Ju. Son..." There's a chorus of gasps as his arms flicker with that unexplainable light, but he closes his eyes to keep his attention on his spirit. "Ryo. Ju. Son. Mu. Ryo. Ju..." He can feel the energy tearing away from his ki, flowing outward and causing his arms to tingle, and he focuses it. "Son. E. Sai. Nyu. Rai..."

He lays both hands on Donnie's plastron, connecting their bodies and spirits, and he lets it spread. It's quickly taxing, as his spirit isn't nearly as strong as Splinter's, but Donnie's ki seems to welcome to boost of energy, and their connection strengthens. He can feel the weakened flow as his brothers spirit tries to reject the invading substance in the body, so Leo deepens his push. 

Donnie gives a strangled gasp, and Leo keeps his eyes shut, his mind centered on his task. 

"Mu. Ryo. Ju. Son. Ryo. Ju. Son. Mu. Ryo. Ju. Son. E. Sai. Nyu. Rai..."

"Mu. Ryo. Ju. Son. Ryo. Ju. Son. Mu. Ryo. Ju. Son. E. Sai. Nyu. Rai..."

He offers one last flush of energy and then he pulls away, because he knows his limits, and trying to give any more will only succeed in being detrimental to himself. He's breathing heavily when he blinks his eyes open to nervously study his younger brother, finding that his face isn't nearly as pale. 

Donnie groans, and Leo's heart lurches, leaning over to cup the side of his face when he blearily opens his eyes. "W-wha...? L-Leo?" 

Leo sometimes forgets how young they all are, but he's always reminded when his brothers are too weak or tired to hide behind their masks of maturity. Brown eyes are misty and his words are slurred, but they're enough. 

He smiles, and his younger brother's expression relaxes. "Hey, Dee. I'm here."

"Mmm." Donnie takes a shaky breath, and then blinks sluggishly. "D'n't fffeel so good." 

Leo brushes his thumb over his cheek. "You're safe, and you're home. Go back to sleep, little brother. We can talk later."

Donnie's eyes flicker shut and Leo pulls away his hand, letting the feeling of victory settle over the pressing anxiety. As his little brother's breaths even, he finds that his are too, and his thoughts shift to the final brother still in danger. His resolve hardens, and he gets to his feet, looking over the awed Mutanimals. 

"Now then. Let's see what we can dig up about the mob boss that took one of our own." 

Notes:

Why, hello there!

We must not have met before- yes. Mhmm. Yes, I am aware that this is a Raph-centered fanfic, but clearly you are not aware that I live for all things Leo&Donnie bonding/pain/angst.

Obviously Raph is going to get dragged through hell and back, but I have plenty of horrible feels for everyone!

Mikey?

Oh. Yes.

Mikey…

Well. You know. Just experimenting with him. Based off certain ideas. Thoughts I had. Just trauma a bit off the usual Mikey depression train…

But, he’ll be fine, I’m sure.

Chapter 7: Belong To The Devil

Summary:

Blood loss seriously sucks, Karl’s a drama queen, and Raph doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.

…That’s pretty much it.

Notes:

I’m not even going to pretend like I know how to follow a schedule. I try, but… Meh. Life.

You belong to the devil

You would fit in so perfectly

From your head all the way to your feet

Yeah, the devil is all that you need

Not me

***

"I've told you time and time again- my name is Ferrall."

"I'm not stupid." 

"Then why do you insist on call me- that."

"Cause you're a Nutjob." 

"I am the most brilliant mind in all of the mafia!" 

"Not that you got much competition."

"A prodigy!"

"See, the thing about that is, I don't care."

"Enough!" Two fists slam down on the desk where he's been trying and failing to analyze the blood that he'd so rudely stolen from his current captive a third-fourth-fifth? time, and Raph raises an eye ridge from where he rests his head on his shoulder. "Anyone ever tell you, you got anger issues? Maybe you should see someone for that. Hear it helps." 

"I will not have my intellect challenged by a mutant." Nutjob hisses as he leaves his chair, the force and the wheels rolling it away from his desk. "You are here to learn your place!" 

"And you're a pretty sucky teacher." Raph cracks his neck, uncomfortable from remaining in one position for so long. "How 'bout you tell me something I don't know." 

His head spins with the motion, so he rests it against the cushioned surface, wondering why he can't be laid flat. At least then he can have the sleep that his body craves. Snore straight through this insane nerd work. 

Nutjob clenches his fists and seethes, and Raph smirks drowsily. Give him enough time and he can crack any calm exterior. He'd had enough experience messing with Leo to learn all the tricks. Aim for the insecurities and they'll start taking everything personally. So much natural skill that he doesn't even have to try. Honestly, it's too easy.

"If you don't shut up, I'm going to find a way to shut you up." 

"You do that." Raph wonders if he's going to run pouting from the room again, but he only scowls and turns back to his experiment. 

Raph has no idea what he's doing, and now he has an appreciation for Donnie's nonsensical rambles under his breath. At least he'd be able to follow along a bit, and he'd like to know what Nutjob's doing with his blood. Annoyingly enough, his captor has been less than forthcoming with any information.

...How long has he been there?

His brows furrow as he realizes that it feels like an eternity, but that can't be realistic. A couple hours, maybe? Nutjob had left and entered the room a few times, but there's no clock anywhere in the mad scientist's lab, so tracking time isn't exactly a part of the deal, even if it had occurred to him to do it. Had his brothers found Donnie? Are they okay?

As much as he hates the idea of being rescued like some pathetic damsel, he'd rather just get out of there already. Is Leo taking his sweet time with a rescue plan and his dorky ninja-stealth routine, or are they still trying to find him?

He squints at one of the circular lights. Huh. Actually. This doesn't look like the hotel's rundown-building decor. Where even is he?

He feels like he's already had this debate with himself, but his world is fuzzy around the edges and trying to remember anything is way more of a struggle than he'd signed up for. Not that he signed up for this. He just wanted to hit someone; not become a mad scientist's guinea pig.

Okay, this is some serious deja vu...

"Doc Ferrall?"

Raph turns his attention towards the door on the other end of the room as the new voice enters their space, and his eyes dilate in shock. 

"What the..."

A mutant bunny in some kind of jump suit enters the room with spiked-brass knuckles on his hands, and a blinking collar of sorts around his neck. He looks like an rougher Usagi, but his posture is more hunched and there's a permanent sneer etched on his face. He turns it on Raph, beady eyes looking him over with obvious distain, and all of Raph's instincts scream that he's trouble and absolutely not to be trusted. 

"One moment, Karl." 

The mutant- Karl? Seriously?- stops by the table with a dark look towards the oblivious scientist, and Nutjob walks over to Raph as the mutant rabbit catches him staring. The sneer turns into a disgusted grimace. "What are you looking at?"

Raph suddenly feels much more awake and much more likely to yank the whiskers off of him the second that he gets a chance. "Your ugly mug. Every heard of a shower, freakshow?" 

His snout twitches and his eyes darken, but his gaze darts from Nutjob and then to Raph, and his posture straightens, as if he's holding himself back. Raph grins. Karl's buttons are going to be so easy to smash. He'll find a use for that. 

If only for his own entertainment.

Still, Raph takes in the scraggly fur, muzzled snout, and clawed hands and feet with a skeptic disbelief. The gang hates mutants. Like, more than he hates cockroaches. Why would one be working with them? Why would one want to work with them? 

And what kind of a mutant name is Karl anyway? 

Bet anything Nutjob chose the name. Shoulda left it up to the experts. Mikey can come up with something way better.

Nutjob approaches and examines the burns. Raph cringes a bit when he makes contact, but not because there's pain. The burns are still there, but they're not as inflamed and they don't hurt anymore. He just hates the contact; the reminder that he's strapped down and completely vulnerable. He hates that. He hates this. He hates everything about this.

Nutjob scribbles down who knows what on his stupid clipboard, and then states, "Just as I thought. Accelerated healing factor. These burns should be gone by the time I'm ready for the tests. Perfect."

"Tests?" Raph repeats blearily. 

He's ignored. Rude.

"Karl, take care of the mutant. I want him fed and rested before we begin. If Raphael passes out from blood loss, that's on you." 

He can almost hear the way Karl's teeth clench as he agrees, "Yes, Ferrall." 

Raph watches as the mutant bunny approaches, and adrenaline kicks in as he becomes acutely aware of his surroundings. His posture remains slumped and his eyes don't leave the new danger, but he's already located several plausible weapons. All he has to do is get to them. 

The mutant rabbit undoes the strap around his plastron and then presses a button on the control panel that he can't see. The shackles release, and Raph falls into a unsteady crouch.

Freedom! Finally!

Time to teach some lessons of his own.

His gaze darts to the mutant reaching down to haul him to his feet and he pops up like a jack-in-the-box, punching him square in the jaw. Karl lets out a cry of fury and pain, and Raph doesn't give him a chance to recover, switching into a roundhouse kick as furry hands move up to clutch his face. The mutants goes flying, and Raph drops to one knee, a knuckle resting against the floor as he gets his bearings. 

The room is whirling way faster than it should be considering he wasn't spinning anymore, and he shakily gets to his feet, stumbling a bit.

There's something seriously wrong with him, but he doesn't have the time to really consider what that is, because the mutant bunny is getting up. He grabs the tray of equipment from beside the not-table and chucks it at the bunny, and when Karl lifts his arms to protect his face, Raph uses the distraction to dart towards the door. 

Come on- come on- ACK!

He goes down hard as a massive weight slams his shell and he instinctively tucks his head and limbs in. The new weight distribution makes his shell roll and his startled assailant flies off of him, allowing Raph the chance to pop out. Scanning his surroundings that are just a blur of colors at this point, he scrambles to his feet. He blinks rapidly, forcing his vision to sort itself out. 

The rabbit is watching him, a twisted grin on his features. "Where do you think you're going?" 

Raph slips into a defensive stance. "Far from here." 

"You don't even know where you are." 

Raph shrugs and the area where his lightning scar used to be stings. His eyes narrow, gaze momentarily darting between Karl and the door. If he can get him to move, then he has a clear shot to it. Raph readies his stance. "Doesn't matter. Now give me your best shot, freakshow." 

The grin looks straight up malicious at this point and he squats. Raph's eyes widen when jumps- launching himself forward and closing the space between them like a freakin' rocket! 

Raph's barely able to duck out of his way, slamming his shoulder into a shelf and shattering several objects on the ground around him. Owowowow, mutant bunny- cheating mutant bunny- 'course he's a superpowered mutant stupidstupidstupid-

He rises to his feet with panted breaths, not giving them a second thought as he raises his fists, refusing to give in when the exit was right there- wait, whyyy are there two bunnies now- there should not be two- three?- no, two bunnies-

Furred hands claw into his shoulders before he realizes that Karl moved and now he's picked up to be unceremoniously hurled into a wall. He lands on his plastron, trying to get his shaking hand to raise him up, only for it to slip on the smooth floor. A shadow comes over him as he wills his aching body to move, and then he's being dragged up by his arm, slammed into the hard surface behind him a second time.

He gasps when a fist meets lower plastron, the sound of metal scraping scutes. The hits increase in speed and strength, and then he hears a voice, muffled by the mix of fear and rage that has his brain pounding. The blows stop and his body can't seem to decide where it wants the majority of the pain to be coming from, so it all mixes everywhere at once. 

Raph glares at the blur of rabbit, barely conscious of a sudden pressure closing around his throat- wait, why is there a-

"Karl. Enough." A sharp voice rings out again. Oh, great, Nutjob's still here. "I still need him." 

The grip around his neck tightens a smidge before the hand releases, "Yes, Ferrall."

He's dropped the ground and he lets his body sag, staring at the floor as the surface seems to ripple and swim before him. He closes his eyes, swallowing down the groan that wants to escape, not about to show any more weakness than he already has. 

"Bring him here."

"You heard him. Get up." A furred foot knocks against his plastron. "Now."

Raph turns his face away in rebellion, panting as his stomach twists in a silent threat, and then the claws are digging into his abused shoulders again, and he's lurched to his feet. His body isn't the only thing that lurches, and his most recent meal decides to join the party, which earns him a disgusted cry and a swift meeting with the floor. 

He curls up on his side, trying to swallow the burning that's demanding another release, arms coming up to hold his plastron, begging it to stay in. His pulse is pounding in his brain, and he can feel the tremors across his body, a flash of cold traveling from his neck and down his back. 

There are inaudible, swirling voices nearby, and he wonders how much trouble he's going to be in when Leo finds out he's been training while sick. 

 He doesn't know how long he lays there, but the trembling slowly dies away, and maybe he dozes off, because he jerks when something makes contact with his arm. 

He doesn't know why all of his senses are on high alert, but his brain pounds with the new rush of adrenaline, and he's aware when he's being cautiously raised up, set against the wall as a bottle is shoved in his hand. His fingers instinctively close around it as he stares down at the black object, and then he raises the shaking hand, pushing aside the voice in the back of his mind that warns that it's not a good idea.

What are his brothers going to do? Poison him? 

As if.

It's thick and gooey, and he can taste a couple different fruits in the taintedly sweet concoction. Mikey must have made him a weird excuse for a smoothie. 

He's surprised there's no pizza aftertaste, but he's not arguing. He lowers it to breathe, feeling a bit better now that there's something in him. "Th-Thanks." 

"Yeah, get over yourself."

His eyes shoot open because that voice belongs to none of his brothers, and a scowling rabbit sorts himself out above him, glaring down at him as if he's the personal cause of all his problems. In a flood of memories, Raph knows where he is and where the smoothie is from, and he chucks it, heels instinctively kicking to push him further against the wall.

Beady eyes narrow as he goes to retrieve the bottle, tossing it back at him. It rolls and bumps his feet, but Raph makes no moves to pick it up. 

"Drink. It."

A part of Raph wants to, because in all honesty that stuff was good, but he keeps his arms safely at his chest as he glares defiantly. "Make me." 

Evidently rabbits can snarl, because this one does. "It's supposed to help you, idiot. You're going to ruin yourself at this rate." 

"Good. Maybe I'll ruin your master's little tests too." Raph leans against the wall, his pulse in his brain as it rests against the cool surface. The rabbit bristles in offense, and Raph makes note of the fact he struck a nerve. Even if he can't resist physically, he's never had any issues rebelling with words. Something him and Donnie had in common. 

His stomach churns as his little brother's scared gaze and pale face appears in his mind's eye. The guys better have found you, Don. They better be on their way.

"You're not going to last five minutes in his tests." The rabbits threatens in a low tone. 

Raph isn't dumb enough to pretend it's a warning. The haunted glint slowly turns malicious, like he's slowly warming up to the idea- excited by it even. "Each one's going to be worse than the last, testing everything you got. If he doesn't get what he wants, Doc'll make you do them again. Over and over and over. And when you break, he'll tear you apart, stitch you back together, and then start all over again."

There's almost a breathless thrill in the mutant's voice, and it sends a shiver down his back. He narrows his eyes in disgust, masking the unease settling in his bones. He doesn't know what half of that means, but he knows that the rabbit believes what he's saying, and he knows that it won't bode well for him. 

He wishes he could pretend that Karl is lying, but denial isn't going serve any real purpose. 

His brothers are going to come for him eventually, and he's going to need to be ready. 

He pointedly looks away from the sociopath as he lifts the bottle, casually resuming downing the fruity concoction as Karl smirks smugly. Let the rabbit think he's won. The guys are already going to be in enough trouble breaking in here; they don't need his shell weighing them down when they get back out.

Karl shifts and Raph allows his gaze to travel back to him, watching as he grabs rope and cloth from the floor of the overturned shelf. Raph uses the wall to help steady himself as he gets into a defensive crouch, bottle gripped tightly in his hand. 

The rabbit stretchs the rope so it's taut, approaching with leveled glare. "These are going on you whether you like it or not. But go ahead, fight me again. I'm sure that'll go great." 

He summons new strength. "Don't think your master would like you messing me up." 

"Ferrell isn't here." He grins, twisting the rope. "Besides, I'm supposed to discipline his projects."

Projects? Plural?

 "What're you gonna do with that anyway?" He challenges, weighing his options. He's reasonably certain that mutant was on the verge of suffocating him the last time they fought, and he knows that this is a battle that he can't win. He's impulsive, not stupid.

The rabbit looks frustrated with the question. "Take you to your room. Keeping you from memorizing the route or getting any ideas." He holds up the blindfold and then the rope, and Raph blinks in surprise. "My... Room?"

"You didn't think you'd be staying in the main lab, did you?" Karl scoffs. Raph bristles, resisting the urge to pounce as he gets closer. He judges his very limited options and then decides that- as much as the idea grates on his pride- playing along is the best one he's got.  

Raph stands and the mutant pauses, warily waiting to see what he does. 

Ha. He's totally all up in his head.

Raph casually finishes the bottle, slightly disappointed when it's empty, and then tosses it to the side and holds out his arms. They're positioned like a fugitive waiting to be handcuffed, smirking with mock obedience at his scowling captor. Karl hesitates a moment more before stepping closer like he's approaching a wild animal. Raph is tempted to make a sudden motion to see if he jumps, but he remains still, innocently raising an eye ridge.

The rabbit stops in front of him and he presses his wrists together, tilting one just enough so the purposeful position isn't notable. He gets a suspicious side-eye as his hands are tied and then the mutant goes to cover his eyes. It's unnerving to be tied up and sightless, but he relaxes his arms and feels the rope loosen, and he feels better. 

He tauts it when the rabbit finishes, listening as he walks to his front and then grabs his bicep, harshly jerking him in the direction that the door sat. He stumbles over his own feet, and he's already beyond tired of standing for this treatment. 

He's a ninja,  not some stubborn mutt!

Raph yanks himself free and ducks away from the hand that he knows will reach for him, taunting, "Back off, freakshow. Just cause I'm blindfolded doesn't mean my legs don't work." 

A frustrated snort and he snaps, "I'm supposed to lead you."

"Yeah, well, I'm not a ragdoll. I'm a person." Raph huffs, moving to the side when he hears the thump of a padded paw and smirking with pride at the growl, assumably because he missed his mark. "No matter what your master thinks." 

"He is not my master."

"Whatever." Raph juts his chin in the direction of his voice, "You gonna lead me? Fine. Lead me. But I can walk."

"I'm going to enjoy watching you hurt." Is the dark hiss. 

Karl grabs his arm, but it's more of a tug than a jerk this time, and Raph allows it. He grins as he's pulled from the room, letting his other senses take the lead as they travel down a hall. Their steps echo, which means this corridor is way too quiet, and the air tastes like Donnie's lab when he experiments with smoking concoctions for a few days straight. He wrinkles his beak, debating what this means as he's turned.

He steps forwards, and a foot touches air. 

The grip shoves and he falls, but he uses the momentum to duck as small as he can and flips. There's the sensation of flying through the air before he miraculously manages to land in an unsteady crouch. He almost toppled over, but he manages to catch his balance, and once he's steady, he lifts a leg to examine his surroundings. He quickly realizes that his estimation is correct, and he almost crashed down a stairway.

He lifts himself up, heart in his throat as he tries to ignore the panicking voice in the back of his mind which warns that he's about to topple down at any second-

Casual steps stomp down behind him, and Raph forces his breath to steady. "What- What are you trying to do? Kill me?"

"Was worth a try." 

Raph scowls as the furred hand grabs him and pulls him down, and he's more cautious with each step, ready for an abrupt shove down the rest of the staircase. He decides that it's about time that he gets some information, and testing tempers is always the best way to do it. 

"What's up with Nutjob anyway?" He grumbles.

"Nutjob?"

"Your master." 

"Ferrall."

"Nutjob." 

He earns a frustrated growl. It is pointy ignored. "I thought the mafia hated mutants."

"The mafia does. Ferrall finds them fascinating."

Raph can't get a read on how his captor feels about that. "If he wanted an autograph, he could have just asked." 

"He wants way more than an autograph. Way more than you can even give."

"Wow. You could not be more cryptic."

"You'll find out. And if I'm lucky, by then it'll be too late." 

What is with this guy...  "That why he got you as a pet? Cause you're oh-so fascinating?"

"I am no one's pet." 

"You have a collar and you obey his whiney commands." Raph states unapologetically. "Sure sounds like a model pet to me."

Now Karl's huffy. "You don't know anything about me."

"Alright then." He tries not to smirk. Bingo. "Why do you work for Nutjob, freakshow?" 

"That is not our names."

"Better than doc and Karl. What kind of name is Karl anyway?"

"My parents gave me that name! There is nothing wrong with that name!" 

Raph feels kinda guilty for that. Didn't mean to disrespect the guy's parents. Just the guy. He shrugs as they turn and cross flat ground. "Meh. Figured Nutjob named you. You were human before rabbit?"

"I don't think I should be talking to you." 

"Says who?" Raph challenges. "Master Ferrell? You're just supposed to be a good little bunny and shove his new pet in its cage? Oh, I get it. You jealous master might get a new favorite?"

"Shut up!" 

"Don't worry, freakshow." The grip around his arm tightens. "I don't plan on being here long." 

"Well, you better plan on it." He's thrown forward and looses his balance, landing on his side and skidding across a cool, coarse floor. The rabbit's ringing voice tells him that they're no longer in the hall, and he remains still as Karl snarls, "Because what Ferrall wants, Ferrall gets. And he wants to tear you down and build you up again. And honestly? I can't wait to watch." 

The door slams shut behind him and Raph rolls his eyes. Drama queen.

He sits up, rotating and wriggling his hands under the rope and then using his teeth to catch one of the loosening strings. He locks his jaw and tugs, feeling the ropes come undone and fall on his legs. He takes off the blindfold and dismissively tosses it behind him, getting to his feet to examine his new 'room'. 

A room is a very accurate description, because that's all it is. A large, empty room.

There's a tiny circular drain in one corner of it and a round light too far above him to reach. The area is barely big enough to do wheelbarrows across, and he circles it for a few bored minutes before spotting a vent that's far too thin to fit any lifeform. The door is composed of metal that's a slightly darker grey than the walls, and there are no windows, so escape is incredibly unlikely. 

He tests the knob just in case.

Locked. Big surprise there.

He walks to the corner furthest from the door and plops down with a frustrated groan, glaring up at the dim lighting. Supposedly, he's supposed to be resting, not that he could possibly sleep after all that, but they aren't even considerate enough to give him a bed. All that time in the lab, and he doesn't even have proper living quarters ready.

Captain Ryan treated his hostages better than this, and that guy's a serious jerkaholic. 

Raph runs a hand down his face and realizes that he's maskless. His heart skips a beat in panic, because the mask is practically a part of his identity. It connects him to his brothers, and his Sensei- his father gifted him that color.

A harsh rage is upon him before he realizes it, and he cries out, slamming his fists into the ground. His breaths come out in heavy snarls, and he grinds his teeth, recalling what Sensei always said about his outbursts. Save it until he can use it.

Oh, he'll use it alright.

Once using the floor as a punching bag is off the agenda, he notes how ironic it is that after all that, a missing piece of clothe is what sets him off.

He pulls his legs to his chest, adjusting his body into a defiant bundle, all-too conscious of his lack of gear and irritated that there's no one to take his anger out on. He glares at the white blindfold on the ground, plain and absent of the scarlet that belongs to him, and then turns away, as if defying it. 

What did it matter?

It was just a stupid mask anyway. He'll get a new one when he gets out.

His grip on his legs tighten. "Come on, Leo. I can hold them off, but these psychopaths have everything but my best interests at heart. I'm serious- if they cut me open, I'm never going to let any a' you live it down. Ever."

He swallows down the nerves, sending them bouncing around in his chest. He can handle it. It's just a whack-job scientist and his incredibly violent pet bunny. He's a mutant warrior, a trained ninja, a Hamato. He's dealt with far more maniacal people, on and off world. 

He doesn't have to like it, but he can handle it.

Still...

He brings his arms up and leans his forehead against them, letting his stinging eyes close. "I'm right here, guys. Find me."

 

Chapter 8: Confident

Summary:

Raph does not get straight As on his first test, and Karl is always more than happy to… Discipline.

Notes:

Otherwise known as:

“The chapter where Raph goes through it as the author gives a certain #SaveKarl reader an intense side-eye.”

What's wrong with being-

What's wrong with being-

What's wrong with being confident?

***

Raph's been woken up by his brothers- namely Mikey- in several hundred different ways over the years. Ranging from Donnie tapping his forehead, to Leo's impatient calls, to Mikey's nonsensical yelling or random pranks that usually end up with him covered in a liquid that he can't name at the time.

His brothers learned pretty quickly how he reacts to being startled awake, so he has no remorse when he wakes up to an unfamiliar voice and touch, and his first instinct is to take out the face.

His other hand reaches for the kunai under his pillow, but he quickly realizes that no such weapon or bedding is anywhere near him. He scrambles away from the presence, a startled animalistic hiss filling the air between them as he blinks away the last of sleep.

It finally clicks who got the receiving end of his fists, and some of the tension leaves his shoulders upon spotting the large rabbit on the ground, cupping his bleeding muzzle. 

It's not heavy, and his nose probably isn't broken, so it's a lot less than he deserves. Karl sits up, looking at his palm and then at Raph as though trying to comprehend his very reasonable response to an unfamiliar blur of grey hovering over him. "What is wrong with you?!"

"Me!?" Raph throws up his arms. "You snuck up on me while I was sleeping!"

"Doc Ferrall wants you for the first test." He defends through gritted teeth, getting to his feet and wiping some of the blood on his jumpsuit. "And he's not going to wait around for you to get your beauty sleep."

"And here I thought he wanted me rested," Raph scoffs as he crosses his arms. "Mad scientists can never make up their minds, can they?"

He suddenly realizes that something cool and firm is touching his warm skin, and he raises his arm to examine it before pointing at the culprit. "Um, what is that?"

"Ferrall wants you cuffed," Karl states importantly. "Now hold still while I put on the other."

"Nu-uh." He fingers the smooth metal cuff directly under his wrist, but it's perfectly sized to encase his arm, and he can't get it to budge. The other arm is free of it, but he can see the matching pair in the rabbit's other hand. "I did not agree to new jewelry, Buster."

Beady eyes narrow. "You don't have a choice in the matter."

"Oh, there's always a choice." He grins as he cracks his knuckles. "And I think you'll find this ninja a lot harder to handle when his blood's where it's supposed to be."

Karl stiffens. "Don't make this difficult."

"Too late for that."

Raph shoots forward, barreling into his chest and bringing him down. He shifts into a handstand as the large mutant falls, launching off the suit and flipping over him. He lands a few paces away, stepping further back as the mutant rolls onto his chest.

He brandishes the remote that he'd seen bulging in one of his pockets. "Hey, Karl! This wouldn't happen to be for my door, would it?"

"Don't you-!"

He taps one of the buttons and hears a soft click. Closing the distance between him and the door, he pulls it open. "Guess that answers that!"

He waits a second more and then dives through the doorway, pulling it closed behind him and listening to the clang on the other side. He cups the top of his mouth with one hand, "If you don't want to break your nose, you should probably stop running into doors, huh?"

Two slams are his answer and he smugly tosses the key as he steps back, catching it in his fist with a smirk as he turns to make his way out of the evil prison basement.

Then he sees the flood of masked goons that are blocking the stairway exit, all of their weapons aiming at the frozen turtle.

"Aw, sewer apples...

---

Karl puts the other cuff on him, and they must be magnetized because they lock together and refuse to budge no matter how much he twists and struggles. They perfectly encompass his arms, so there's no chance of sliding them off, and he puts that particular battle on hold. He sets his attention back on tracking directions as he's moved blindfolded through the facility, probably not for the last time.

One stairway, a couple turns and hallways later, and then he's being shoved forward, a resounding click and dense thud echoing around him. 

The pressure on the cuffs releases and he can move his arms. He peels off the blindfold immediately, taking a look at his new surroundings. Raph isn't sure what he thought they meant when they said tests, but he doesn't expect to be locked in a large, bright room with a dense transparent wall between him and his captor.

He walks up to it, staring Ferrall dead in the eyes before abruptly slamming both fists into it as if to bring them down on his head. He jumps like the loser mad scientist he is, and Raph offers a shark-like grin. "What's up, Doc?"

Too easy.

Ferrall's indifference melts into a glare and Raph shifts his arms into an arch over his head, nodding to his cuffs. "This your idea?"

Still no response, just a scrutinizing glare, and Raph steps away from the wall. He examines the area with apparent disinterest before facing him again. "So what's the plan here? Giant hypnosis thing gonna pop up out of the roof? Chains with wrecking balls of doom? I've been in a doom maze before, Nutjob. One made by an even wackier scientist than you."

He pokes the glass the same way he would jab at his chest, and Ferrall steps to the side, pressing a button on a control panel. His voice comes from behind Raph, probably from a speaker hidden in the room. "This will be your training area. These tests depend solely on you and your cooperation, so I suggest you lose the snark and get your head in the game."

Raph quirks an eye ridge. "I'm a packaged deal. You want the mutant turtle; you get everything that comes with him."

"Disappointing." He takes his hand off and scribbles on his clipboard.

Raph's tired of dwelling in uncertainty and letting the dread in his chest grow any larger. He might as well get these tests over with, or at least figure out what the heck Nutjob wants from him. Anything is better than standing around waiting.

He bangs on the glass to remind him that he still has imprisoned company, and the scientist looks up in frustration, possibly not used to being interrupted. That's too bad for him, now, isn't it?

"So are we doing this or what?"

Nutjob's gaze never leaves Raph's as he very deliberately raises a hand, and then presses a button on the console next to him. 

The transparent wall blackens, leaving him unable to see through it anymore, and Raph steps back in surprise, crossing his arms in quick recovery. "You're hiding now? Some evil scientist you are. Scared of the big, bad turtle."

A beat of unnerving silence and then the entire room goes pitch-black. Every fiber of Raph's being is on high alert now, and he knows that any danger is going to be from behind, so he whirls around, stepping back so his shell is closer to the glass.

He swallows his nerves. "What's the big idea!?"

"Evade." The voice seems to echo through the dark, like it's coming from every direction at once.

Raph knows this is a show of power, and he refuses to let it phase him. "Evade what?"

A beam of red light slices the darkness, followed by several more, and Raph has his answers. The beams are thick, light trained in one space and consistency, and he knows lasers when he sees them. Without further warning, they shoot toward him. Me and my big mouth!

"I thought you weren't going to slice and dice me?!"

"You have brothers." The ominous voice monotones as Raph narrowly avoids losing an arm. "If this test is a failure, I'll have the data to avoid making the same error."

Raph doesn't know if the mad scientist is trying to get in his head or giving a warning, but he gets the gist.

He grits his teeth as he ducks to the side, using the light the beams provide to track where he's going and guess where they'll hit. They seem to be following one another, with some appearing diagonally in his path while he's running when he least expects it, but he's able to conga-line a few, swerving around others. This goes on for several minutes. 

He's relieved that they're far easier to dodge than Kraang fire, but there's nowhere to duck and take a breather. He's having too many close calls, and he knows he's going to tire eventually.

They try to surround him from all sides, so he ricochets off the wall, bringing both arms to his chest in a mid-air twirl and then rolling as he hits the ground, continuing on.

He has no idea how well Ferrall can see him or if he's actually expendable, but he needs to get Nutjob to pull something else from his bag of tortures because Raph does not want to go back to his brothers without a limb.

"Jeez, this is the test? Sensei Leonardo's put me through training worse than this!"

He can't help the slightly condensing tone that slips out with his brother's title. It's a habit by now, since he still can't fully believe it belongs to someone else, and he doesn't know if he'll ever be ready to accept this fact. He's pretty sure Leo understands, so it's not like it matters.

"And here Karl was trying to freak me out! Please! I could do this all day!"

He skids to an abrupt halt to stop the beam aimed straight for his thighs, jerking his body forward to land on his hands, and then somersaulting away from the two closing in. What was it Mikey had said once?

He takes a breath, not letting the pant come out in his voice. "Like a video game on easy!"

A high-pitch sort of whoosh and then a sharp pain spikes on his shoulder, giving him all the warning he needs to dodge three more whooshes. He darts forward as he yanks a barbed dart from his flesh, hissing under his breath as it spikes more pain to get out than it did going in.

It's tiny, barely the length of one of his fingers, but it still hurts.

This is so not what he meant!

He slams it into the wall so he doesn't risk stepping on it later on, grabbing at his shoulder to put on pressure, sticky moisture under his palm. There are soft pitches of a barb gun firing somewhere in the dark, and he's able to catch them with his carapace, momentarily losing his footing when the lasers get too close.

He scrambles to his feet, panting as he realizes that there's a ball of shadow nearby.

He spares a moment to squint at it before he takes off again, keeping the mystery device in his peripheral vision. It follows him, and then he spots a red glint on a silver surface. He hears the whoosh, a barb launching from the hovering bot. He darts away from the wall, the barb shooting past him and dissolving into nothing in a laser beam.

If they can do that to metal, he doesn't want to know what they'll do to shell and bone.

He glares in the direction of the darkened window, tearing his bitter gaze away as the bot resumes firing.

He's forced to release his shoulder for better balance. He knows he's not going to bleed out from the prick wound, so he has no issues with doing so to avoid becoming a roasted turtle. He's tripped when a dart manages to embed itself in his leg, and he drops to slide under a few slanted lights traveling in a line, jerking it out with a pained grunt.

He's so stabbing one of these into Nutjob when he gets the chance.

Raph pauses as he leans on his arms, drawing in precious air, plastron against the floor as he brings up a knee, ready to burst back to his feet. The lasers come back and he braces himself, crouching lower down to gain a burst of momentum-

They don't touch him. They pass right over, so close that he feels the heat over his bare skull, but they continue onward. He glimpses them scatter out of the line, still not traveling low enough to reach him. He allows this to sink in a moment longer as they adapt to the development, moving to train on the floor like the circular red dots used as popular cat toys.

He gives it a brief moment of consideration before he's sprinting across the room on all fours, taking advantage of the loophole in the system. Some beams of light circle the walls, but they never go low enough to make contact.

He allows a grin to snake onto his features, wondering if Ferrall is seething in his hiding place.

The darts don't have the same flaw, but he has plenty of mobility, so he adapts like a ninja should, and does his best to keep the lasers from slicing him while using them to eliminate some of the barb darts. All of the too-close-for-comfort barbs, he catches with his carapace. They don't penetrate, too thin and smooth-sailing, but they're going to be near impossible to get out.

A problem for when he's not actively getting fired at.

The bot seems to comprehend that he's hiding under the rays, and it shifts closer to the floor to get a better aim. He leaps forward and tackles it to the ground. It struggles under his weight, pausing its firing now that it can't properly aim, and out of the corner of his eyes, he watches the lasers race toward him. He rolls on his carapace and tosses the bot into the air.

It hovers unsteadily for a moment, attempting to regain its balance, but that's a moment too long, and Raph winces as a laser slashes through it, almost knocking one of the sparking pieces on his head.

"That... Wasn't... So hard." He pants as he gets back on all fours, ignoring the dizzying pounds of his heart, how his limbs tremble, and the way blood drips down his shin. "Here, I thought... Was go-onna get... A challenge."

The lasers disappear and he tenses in the pitch-black, listening for the slightest hint of what else is coming. He flinches when he's blinded by a flood of light, bowing his head towards the floor to take refuge in his faint shadow and blinking rapidly to give his eyes time to adjust. There's a slam of a door opening, and his head shoots up in time to see a blur of gray barreling toward him.

He scrambles to his feet and Karl swings, catching his chin with a spiked-brass knuckle. It claws at the skin and he staggers back as the pain explodes in an array of tiny dots of light across his vision. He's barely able to dodge another blow to the jaw and a hand encloses around his arm, jerking him back to the ground.

He feels his head collide and his gasp for air is little more than a strangled wheeze, a hand pressing down on his throat as Karl's fist collides repeatedly with his upper plastron. His surroundings ring- or maybe that's his brain?- as pain overloads him to the point that he can barely swallow the pathetic plea for mercy that begs for escape.

He can't tear his gaze away from the malice in the beady eyes, because it almost looks like- like he's-

He's enjoying this.

Raph's always prided himself on being in villains' heads, of knowing how they think- but it doesn't make sense that anyone would get pleasure from- this.

The force and brutality knock him off-kilter, and he can barely do more than keep control of his weakness, willing his paralyzed body to move.

He feels his fists clench and his eyes narrow, new adrenaline flooding his being. In a fluid motion, he brings his legs to his chest and then kicks out, knocking his assailant a few paces back. He rolls his body forward and swings, only for the rabbit to block the punch before it reaches his skull, throwing him against the wall.

An arm presses against his shoulder and his neck, preventing him from regaining his lost breath, and then his assailant turns his attention to the shoulder of the offending fist.

Spikes break skin, and brass knuckle knocks the bone from its place.

Raph's not a total idiot. He knows that it's supposed to hurt, and he's ready for the feeling of spikes slashing through flesh, but he doesn't expect the explosion of hot, searing fire to shoot from his shoulder and through the rest of his body.

Maybe that's why a not-entirely human shriek bursts out as his world distorts into a horrific blur of gray and PAIN.

He's dropped carelessly, crumpling to the floor and breathing heavily as prickling tremors of agony travel from his shoulder and down his shell. He dimly remembers the pinched look on Leo's face when he and Mikey returned after their first battle with the Foot cultists, and wonders how his older brother managed to hide the utter agony.

His chin is locked between a thumb and finger, body yanked upright as blood from his scratched cheek stains the fur. He ignores the way his eyes water, grimacing when he's forced to face the cruel sneer of his captor.

Karl looks him over as if admiring his work. "Ferrall doesn't like it when his projects disobey."

A familiar flame lights, stronger than the pain or the icy terror. "H-he said t-o evade! I-I evaded!"

"You destroyed." His face is roughly jerked to the pieces of the bot and then back to the cold glare. "Ferrall didn't tell you to do that, did he? And when Ferrall is unhappy, I get to discipline."

Raph's tossed back, and his carapace thumps against the wall. His connected hand instinctively flies out to keep him upright, swallowing a whimper when the movement jostles his limp arm. The pressure on his chest is swelling with the unfairity of it all, a comeback on the tip of his tongue because how was he supposed kno- Stop, stop, it hurts- it hurts- river over stone- river ov- needs to shut up- needs to st-

"Maybe Nutjob needs to be more specific!"

"Ferrall!"

A hand closes around his throat to draw him up and slam him into the wall. He cries out with the new blast of stabbing heat, a trembling hand coming up to grab hold of the wrist of the impossibly strong grip, legs kicking out as his body hopelessly tries to escape the cause of pain.

Karl keeps him in the vulnerable position, watching him struggle before leaning closer and growling, "His name is Ferrall."

The intimidation tactic is working because his heart is pounding as sweat makes his hands slick, knowing that if Karl squeezes any tighter there's nothing Raph can do to stop him from strangling him-

Raph's fingers dig into fur as he stubbornly, desperately tries to get his point across- that he doesn't deserve to die because Ferrall wouldn't give actual instructions, only managing a wheezy, "N-neever said-"

"You only follow orders. Nothing else." His free hand locks over the limp arm and Raph's eyes widen in alarm, terror taming his voice. "Or next time, I won't be so generous."

Karl sets the arm.

This time he expects the same or an even worse level of pain, but after a blast that fogs his mind and tilts the room, the pain lessens. He gasps in air as his surroundings swim in and out of focus, and it occurs to him that the room is tilted because he's on the ground.

Raph blindly clutches at his shoulder as if to hold the bone in place, staring at the leering shadow of his designated bully as it falls across the floor. Terror squeezes at his heart and draws a soft whimper that he instantly hates himself for. He concentrates on breathing through the pain and doesn't dare look up, for fear of running his mouth and triggering another beating. 

He doesn't know why he couldn't just shut up.

It wasn't fair, but why should he be surprised? Since when was anything ever fair?

His silent submission seems to do the trick and he's left alone. The shadow even shifts and travels in the other direction. It leaves his sight, and he doesn't bother following it, beyond grateful that the brutality is over. 

Unwanted thoughts and conclusions trickle in, and he controls them about as well as he controls his anger and his mouth. This was only supposed to be the first test, that's what Karl said. There'll be more. More tests, more beatings- they’re just getting started.

Raph has a sinking feeling that this time, his brash confidence isn't going to get him out of it unscathed. Heck, it’s probably what’ll convince them to stop testing and start dissecting. 

The guys might be lucky to find him in one piece-

NO.

The grip on his arm relaxes without his consent as breathing comes a little easier. N-no, no, he- he can't think that way. That's letting them win.

An-and he's been through worse, right?

Right. Sure.

His eyes flicker shut; his only reality becoming a hazy, fuzzy sensation that muffles the pain.

He'll get through this. He just has to hold on.

Leo'd never leave him hanging. Not any of them. Not his brothers.

Not-

Not here .

Raph'll hold on, buy them more time.

Just a little more ti...

 

Notes:

……

Hmmm.

I’m sure he’s fine.

Chapter 9: Then I’ll Be

Summary:

Ya’ll seem like you need a breather. Or five.

Soooo- Let’s check back in with the fam, shall we?

Notes:

How does one write a Mikey mindset???

If I'm not the hero

If I'm not the lead

If I'm not deniro

Then I'll be

***

>Youre sure its all good?

"What is it with you and not telling me things until the last minute!?"

<Yep!!! Do your tests and stuff we go this!! :D:D:D

"I'm not used to factoring you into plans, okay?!"

>If youre sure

"So get used to it!"

>But the minute something comes up, you text

"That's not how that works!"

<Aye aye!! Later gater~

"You know you could use less punctuation marks and it would still have the same effect."

Mikey glances up at his taller brother, finding tired eyes still trapped in a haze and mouth pinched in a line that says his headache is still reigning supreme. He's looking over Mikey's shoulder to check up on their conversation, and if Mikey wasn't using his side to prop himself up, he might be offended at the invasion of privacy. 

'Sides, it's just April. Not like he has anything to hide.

"Nah, bro. If one mark means happy, then three must mean, like, everything's seriously all good so she doesn't need to worry!" 

Mikey's confident in his logic, but Donnie only sighs. 

He straightens to turn around, setting a foot on the floor as worry flickers across his features. It's gone in the next second as he reaches over to test his temperature for what has to be the millionth and twelfth time.

He doesn't blame him when his hand is smacked away.

"I'm fine."

"Just checking." Mikey counters as he curls back up and consents to smushing his cheek against his shoulder, not about to risk pushing the emotional button that would get this contact refused. 

His older brothers can be finicky about hugs and cuddling, so he has to take what he can get. As the main turtle on Donnie-duty, he isn't going to throw away the opportunity, especially since their brainy brother isn't all there.

He's been staring at the same newsite thingy on his laptop for the past interplanetary journey and goon battle of Robot Mecha Force Five. Since Mikey already skimmed it out of pure curiosity, that means that Donnie's had more than enough time to finish. "....So how's it goin'?"

"I can't concentrate."

Donnie's curt and undeniably bitter, which gets his message across. 

In summary? 

Bad. 

Mikey knows the aggression is partly aimed at him because of Sensei Leo's orders to keep him on the couch, but he can't help feeling sympathetic to his brother's plight. 

Donnie's upset, and when he's upset he needs to be doing something about it. Mikey knows they want him to work his science magic as much as he wants to, but they don't want to risk another seizure. It was freaky.

He bites his lip in consideration, apprehensive gaze straying to the tv. Sometimes, sacrifices must be made for the greater good. 

"I can turn off the tv?"

"It's not that..."

Oh, good, cause he really didn't want to do that.

"...okay, it's partly that."

Darn it. Still on the table. "Make up your mind, bro."

"I can't just sit here, Mikey!" Oops, he poked the bear. "The Mutanimals are out there trying to find our brother, and we should be too!"

Mikey doesn't know how to tell him that they did try. 

That they'd barely been gone for an hour when a panicked April called to say that he'd disappeared while she was getting him food. 

That they found him passed out in one of the sewer tunnels, pale and lying next to a pile of his own bile. That upon waking up again, he didn't have a single memory of leaving. That Rockwell thinks he had another seizure, and they're all aware that it could happen all over again. 

Well. Everyone but Donnie... 

No need to freak a sick guy out. 'Specially not when being all scared is what hurts him.

"I know, bro." Mikey soothes instead, unconsciously taking hold of his bicep. "But they're just scoping around. We can be calvary when we got a lead or two."

Donnie slumps in his spot and mumbles something inaudible. 

Mikey glances at the setup in the pit. Their mission planning board is lying on the ground, a makeshift diorama of the city set up with the Mutanimals pieces splayed out in different areas. Leo's t-phone lays untouched where he'd set it while coordinating with the Mutanimals, keeping an eye on his younger brothers while keeping up the search for their brother.

He'd even been open to letting Mikey put in his two cents every now and then, and Mikey happily acted as his imagination board, letting him bounce ideas off of him.

Sometimes he got a few exasperated or annoyed looks when he tried to lighten the mood, but those aren't anything new. 

The screen lights up with an upside-down message that Mikey can't read from where he sits, and Mikey pats the arm that he holds captive. "We'll get out there, bro. Aaaaas soon as Leo gives the a-okay."

"You guys should have gone with them." Donnie snaps suddenly, tapping a finger next to the keys. "It was an ambush. An ambush! I'd thought they'd gone underground- there was nothing, but what if that was the plan all along? Bide their time to make us lower our guards- ugh, I can't believe we just walked in!" 

Donnie runs his free hand down his face and Mikey tries not to think about what that could mean for their captured brother. The last time Raph got taken from them, he was brainwormed into working for the bad guys, and when Donnie was taken by the gang, they tried to slice him open.

 Ambushes and kidnappings are never a good sign.

"I'm sure he's okay." Mikey insists loudly, drowning out his doubts and drawing Donnie's gaze to him. "Raph's tough. He can handle the haters."

"Still. We should be doing more than arguing amongst ourselves. And I don't need to be babysat." Donnie glares at the shoji wall that separates them from the leaders arguing in the dojo, the same as they'd been for the past several minutes.

Raph had officially been missing for more than twenty-four hours when Karai came on a rampage into the lair, possibly from stewing in worry during the twelve-hour plane ride from Japan. Shinigomi gave her his message, and she dropped everything to head straight back.

Just the thought of it spreads warmth across every inch of his plastron, and it's weird to think that there was a time when she wouldn't have batted an eye to stabbing one of them through the same area. She's still plenty feisty though, and the first thing she does upon metaphorically walking through the door is to jump down Leo's throat.

Speaking of which, they're getting loud enough for their voices to carry again. He doesn't even have to try to eavesdrop.

"I told you I was leaving on clan business!"

"I forgot! And I told Mikey not to bother you if you were busy!"

Mikey cringes guiltily.

"And I told you to stop doing that!"

"Being considerate?!"

"Yes! I could have been back sooner if you weren't so pig-headed!"

"Well then, I'm sorry!"

"Good!"

Their voices drop off again, and Mikey sheepishly mutters, "Maybe I shouldn't have said anything? Shini asked if everything was okay and I just kinda..."

"You made the right call." Donnie finally scrolls down. "Leo needs to start learning that it's not just us anymore."

Mikey relaxes at the confirmation, because Donnie's smart and knows these things, and he'd never lie to him about facts. If he's being honest, he doesn't really understand what that means, but Donnie said it like it was obvious, and he'd probably just prove himself to be a shellbrain for asking.

His face scrunches into a thoughtful frown, looking through the tv. Their family hadn't consisted of just them since they came back from the farmhouse. If anything, it doubled in size through all their adventures. How could Leo not know that?

They had friends all over, not only the Mutanimals, but also the frog tribe out in Louisiana, Usagi from that old-timey Japanese mutant dimension, and sweet Renet from the future, and Raph even had a girlfriend out in space-

"Mona!"

Mikey shoots upright so fast that his forehead practically collides with Donnie's chin when he goes to look at him, but his older brother pulls away just in time. Sensing the alarm in his tone, his brainy brother demands, "What? What about her?"

"She's with Sal Commander!"

Donnie doesn't seem to share the panic. "And she'll be back in a few days..?"

"She doesn't know!" Mikey bounces in place anxiously. "We gotta tell her!"

"Isn't she off-planet? She can't exactly do much about it." Donnie points out in new understanding. "How would you even get in contact with her anyway?"

Mikey raises a finger importantly and then lets it fall, clamping his mouth shut when he realizes that he doesn't actually have an answer. His expression scrunches in thought as he tries to figure out how one does get in contact with their brother's interplanetary girlfriend.

He realizes that Donnie staring at him and partly shrinks his head into his shell, embarrassed to be caught without a plan to back up his announcement. 

Donnie cocks his head with a look that Mikey can't quite read before he turns back to his laptop, and scrolls down the page. "Well... I suppose you could always use Raph's space suit helmet. I believe that has a direct line to her. As long as you don't mind the risk of getting pummeled when he finds out."

Mikey lights up. "That's it! Thanks, D!"

"You'll want that thanks back after you're green and purple."

"Nah. That's your thing." Mikey hops to his feet, striking a confident pose. "'Sides, he'll have to get close enough to touch me first."

"First, he'll have to be around to find out." Donnie counters with a worried frown, clinking something on the screen. "And be careful with the helmet, hmm? Still not sure I can repair tech that advanced, and I'd rather not be on Raph's hit list."

With his big brother nonchalantly backing up his idea, Mikey eagerly bounds to the bedrooms. "Whatever you say, bro!"

"I mean it, Mikey. Careful!"

Mikey slips into Raph's room, and the lack of a hollered follow-up tells him that Donnie's gone back to his research. He steps past the drums and plops on his older brother's mattress, bringing his legs up to cross them. The jolt sends Chompy bouncing on the pillow that he has evidently been napping on after Mondo dropped him off in the bedroom.

"Now. If I were a super rad piece of tech I didn't want my also super rad bros touching, where would I be?"

He abruptly drops his weight forward, grasping onto the edge of the mattress and peeking underneath the bed. It's immaculately clean, just like the rest of the floor since Raph adopted a small fire-breathing-and-tooting alien with chewing habits.

He pushes himself back up and calculating eyes scan the rest of the room, wondering if he's the type to have secret safes or hiddy-holes. Donnie could probably make him one, so detective prankenstien can't rule anything out. His eyes light up when he spots a particularly large poster, but he considerately decides to save tearing posters off the wall until after he explores the hidden levers route. 

Too bad Raph doesn't have a bookshelf...

He opens the dresser drawers and tilts each stack of comics, tapping his chin as his gaze strays to the weapons cabinet. Both eyes ridges fly up as a giddy smile banishes all traces of a momentarily serious turtle. "Aha!"

Mikey darts over, throwing it open with a flourish and finding a large array of collected weaponry, a scratched, shiny red helmet lying underneath the half-hazardly shoved mace. With a fair amount of shimmying, he manages to scoot it out, proudly holding it up and tapping the door shut behind him with his foot.

"Detective Prankenstien strikes again!"

Chompy stretches out his front legs as Mikey plops back onto the bed. He adjusts his hands against the sides of the helmet, dropping it onto his head.

It glows in recognition of a new being, gently closing around his neck in preparation to adapt to new atmospheres. He yelps when it starts chiming like a sophisticated bomb or alarm, wondering if he'd somehow already broken it. Donnie's right. He's so dead meat when Raph finds out-

He's about to take it off and hide all evidence of his investigation when Mona makes her appearance, frowning at the camera, but not looking altogether unhappy. "Raphael, good, you did not call back and I feared-"

The relief flickers into surprise. "Michelangelo."

"Heeey~" Mikey giggles nervously. 

Piecing yellow eyes seem to see through him and study his very soul. "What is this?"

He blinks, wondering if there's something on his face. "What's what?"

"Is Raphael aware that you have taken possession of his helmet?"

"No." He admits honestly under her stoic gaze, quickly putting on an expression that usually prompts his brothers to heave a sigh and give in to his coming request. Hands instinctively entwine and his head tilts as blue eyes widen, dawning a practiced pleading and innocent smile.

 "And I was kinda hoping we could keep this between us...?"

The hard stare melts, and Mikey understands why his secretly soft brother chose her. "I make no promises, young one."

Mikey's no younger than his brothers, so he wonders where he earned this nickname from. He glances at Chompy as he struggles to climb onto his knees, readying to rip off the band-aid, but his mouth disagrees with his brain and stealthily avoids the inevitable. "Soooo, how's the whole 'making Utrom your allies' thing going for ya?"

She straightens proudly and Mikey lifts Chompy, letting him make himself at home on his lap. The little alien chirps at Mikey, and he pats his head, glancing back at Mona. He doesn't notice the tiny body slump in disappointment before he climbs to rest his front feet on his other leg, looking longingly at the door.

"Despite being creatures of peace, the Utrom agree that something must be done about Dregg's extended reach. They do not wish to fight, but they have promised to assist us in our attempts to retrieve our planet." 

She suddenly looks frustrated and sighs. "Only they are not warriors, and all this talk bores me. There is a war to be won, and yet the council ponders and debates. It is tiring, truly."

She stares past him for a moment and then seems to come back to herself, recognizing who it is that she's talking to. She passes Mikey a knowing look. "But you did not risk Raphael's wrath to contact me to ask of Salamdrian affairs. What is it you need?"

"Heh. Yeah..." His smile fades as the familiar nerves churn his stomach because even after giving the news three times, admitting the truth doesn't get any easier. He smooths his palms down his legs. "Well... Thing is, last night Donnie and Raph snuck out and were attacked, and Raph'sbeenkidnappedbysomeEarthbaddies- BUT!-"

The amused curiosity morphs into a fury that Mikey can just feel radiating through the hologram. He jumps as a loud growl of a foreign language bursts through the speakers, followed by her slamming both hands onto the surface in front of her. "Who?! Whose dishonorable head do I have the pleasure of removing from its pathetic host?!"

"Uh?" Mikey visibly swallows. "We're not really-"

He's interrupted by a slightly manic burst. "True warriors do not steal their enemies! Only a coward would snatch instead of slay- grab instead of cripple!" Another burst of alien language leaves her throat. "When I discover what honorless filth laid hands on my Raphael, I will tear them inside out and reveal their cowardly insides for all to see!"

Sheesh. Raph really knows how to pick his girls. "Mona! Dudette! It's cool!"

"Unless Raphael has taught me earth lingo incorrectly, I do not believe that you understand the proper meaning of the word!" Mona challenges darkly. "Raphael has been stolen! What about this is cool? If anything, it is past boiling!"

"Don't think that's how that works..." Mikey corrects halfheartedly because he isn't quite sure.

Donnie would probably know, but she doesn't exactly seem in the mood for some long Donnie-lecture on Earth slang and he doesn't want to repeat everything through the helmet. Not that Donnie probably wants to give her a lecture when he's in the middle of being busy. Wait, can she hear outside the helmet? Why would he even need to wear it if she can? They should still be able to still see the hologram outside the helmet, right?

His attention darts back to her and he finds an expectant glare planted on him. He tries to reverse his thoughts and abruptly recalls what he'd been thinking about before she distracted him. "Um! But! We got him covered, Mona! Seriously! It's all taken care of! Leo's making plans and Donnie's doing research stuff and then us and the Mutaniamals are gonna get him back!"

Mona narrows her glare, leering over the camera with a posture that screams Danger! Danger! Gasket about to blow! and then pulls away, abruptly announcing, "I am returning to earth."

He's taken aback by how simply this is spoken when an explosion is due but then processes what she said. "Really? You don't got to do that. We got him covered."

"If there is a search and rescue in progress for Raphael, then I must take part in it and lend all the assistance that I can." The conviction in her eyes tells him that her mind has already been made up. The simmering fire is still there, but buried in a warrior's determination. "The Utrom and Commander will have to understand. I will see you all soon."

"Oh, uh, oka-"

Mona hangs up and leaves Mikey staring through the helmet and at the poster on the other side of the room. He takes off the helmet and sets it to the side, scooping up the alien still watching the doorway. "Hey, lil' guy! Mona's coming back! Isn't that cool of her? She's gonna help us find Raph."

Chompy looks at him, eyes sad as he chitters despondently, and Mikey melts. "Aww, it's okay. I miss him lots too, but we'll find him. No way are we leaving him on his own with some baddies. We'll be rescuing his shell any minute now. With Mona! Bet Raph'll love that."

He winks at Chompy, and the mix of his bright tone and reassuring words seems to perk up the little alien. He chirps and butts his head against Mikey's beak, and he giggles, carefully nuzzling into the small head. "That's better. Hey, you know what I could go for?! Pepperoni jelly bean surprise! You in?"

Chompy stomps his feet happily and Mikey scoots off the bed, heading back to the main room. He passes the empty couch and catches a few spurts of calmer conversation from the dojo, slipping into the kitchen. They'd all missed breakfast and lunch while planning anyway, and some pizza is always the best way to fill bellies and raise spirits!

He sets Chompy on the counter and greets Icecream Kitty. He reaches for the freezer pizzas as he fills her in on the latest events, multitasking collecting the ingredients, and decorating the pre-pepperoni-ed pizzas. He and Chompy snack as they do, and Mikey finally deems them ready for the oven. Chompy chirps his own details as he paces around on the counter, and Icecream Kitty interjects with questions, also reminding him to set out some tea for the eldest Hamatos.

The tea is cooling when the story finishes, and Chompy is happily munching on some lettuce on the island as Mikey peeks at the pizzas, practically salivating as he waits for the timer to go off.

He shoots upright when he hears Leo shout, and Icecream Kitty meows in alarm behind him. After a glance at the pizzas, he decides that he has time for a quick peek to see what was up. "Keep an eye on Chompy! I'll be right back!"

He ducks out of the kitchen and into the main room, jogging to the couch before realizing voices are coming from the lab. He glances at the empty couch and then back to the lab doors, eyes widening guiltily. Whoops.

He peeks past the lab door, finding Donnie standing next to his desk as Leo glares him down. The whiteboard stands nearby, covered by a sketch of the city, and red lines circle certain areas. Karai is to their brother's left, nonchalantly studying the collectibles shelf.

"Hamato Donatello, if you do not get back to that couch-!"

"I thought the whole point of resting was not to stress me out! This right here?! Pretty stressful!"

Karai studies the Obturaculum Somniorum as she offhandedly questions, "Isn't working how he de-stresses?"

Donnie gestures back at her. "Thank you!"

"I am not having this argument with you-"

"Great! So leave me alone so I can find our brother!"

"Rockwell has it covered-"

"Right." He agrees sarcastically. "Because Rockwell is a grade-A detective."

"At least he's not at risk for heart failure!"

"I'm fine!" Donnie groans as he plops into his chair, the wheels rolling it away from the leader. "Mikey's been watching me and nothing cha-"

"And he's clearly not doing a very good job of it!" Leo growls. "Where even is he?!"

Mikey gulps and steps backward, prepared to sprint back to the kitchen and take refuge for the extent of the rest of the bickering, when Karai completely outs him without even bothering to look over her shoulder. "He's watching by the door."

He walks inside sheepishly when all eyes turn to him. Leo narrows his gaze, and Mikey knows that he's in for the lecture of a lifetime. Thanks a lot, sis.

"Where have you been?"

Mikey takes a breath. "I was calling Mona and now she's headed here and then I made some pizza 'cause I'm sure we're all starving after all this worrying and searching and Chompy needed to eat and I should probably go check on those now byeeee-!"

He hurries to duck back out the door, and Leo calls out, "Wait!"

Mikey freezes and then turns, plastering his most innocent expression. "Yeah?"

"You called Mona?" He demands. "Why?"

"Thought she should know?"

"And now she's come back?"

"Yeeees?"

"Mikey!" He throws out both hands in exasperation. "She was in the middle of important political conferences with the Utrom! Why would you do that?!"

"Because I thought she should know!"

Didn't he just say that? And they say he's slow on the intake. Well, if he's getting thrown under the bus today; might as well bring someone else down with him.

Mikey strides forward and points an excusing finger. "Besides, Donnie seemed to think it was a good idea!"

"Of course, he would!" Leo sends him a bitter look, but their genius brother is conveniently scrolling on his laptop and doesn't catch his gaze. "He'll promote any excuse to not do the one thing I asked him to do!"

Wait, what? So he didn't actually like the idea?

Awww.

"Yeah, which is nothing!" Donnie snaps. "He's already been there too long! In case you've forgotten, the last time the Mafia took someone it was to slice them open! I should know!"

"BOYS!" Something slams down and all eyes turn to Karai as she leans on the desk. "You're worse than my new recruits! This is getting us nowhere."

"But he's not listening!" Leo whines, earning an affronted, "No, he's the one who-!"

"Shut it!"

Both boys snap their mouths shut and she looks over at Mikey. He stiffens, readying for the scolding, but she surprises them all. "Mikey was not wrong to call me, and he's not wrong to call Raph's newt girlfriend. If she wants to come back, that's her choice."

She shoots Leo a look and he scowls. Mikey grins in satisfaction, heading past his brothers and to Karai's side, copying her stature with pride.

"Donnie, you had a seizure and freaked your brothers out. Leo has a right to be worried. Get over it." Donnie huffs and looks at the whiteboard, so she adds, "Leo, Donnie's also right. He's had to track people before, so he deserves the chance to do it again." Leo sputters, but Karai interrupts, "No. He's just doing tech stuff and drawing. You can bench him from missions, but you can't stop him from making himself useful in other ways."

Donnie nods immediately, and then seems to catch on, smirk morphing into shock. "Wait- bench me?! You can't do that!"

"As leader and Sensei, I absolutely can."

Mkey cringes in sympathy at the double-whammy, and Donnie gasps, "Don't you-!"

"Donatello!" He glares at her and Karai meets it evenly. "You're not going to be anything but a burden if you pass out mid-mission. Do you want to be the reason that we're unable to rescue your brother? Would you rather be another damsel to save?"

He hesitates and then looks at his feet. "...No."

"That's what I thought." She folds her hands and looks between them. "Now. I say we allow Donnie to finish his work so we can finally get somewhere. I'll contact the Foot. Shredder had them under his watch, so there has to be some dirt we can use. Sound good?"

She gets mumbled agreement and then she looks over at Mikey, a genuine affection behind her stern gaze. "And I heard something about pizza? I'm starving."

"On it!" He brightens instantly and hurries for the door, hoping the timer hasn't gone off yet. "Steaming, cheesy deliciousness coming right up!"

Leo chimes in after him. "They better have normal toppings, Mikey!"

"No promises!"

"MIKEY-!"

Notes:

Yk, hiding seizures and memory gaps from your brother seems unwise. Like maybe it’s something that’ll come back to bite you.

Meh.

What do I know?

I’m just the author.

Chapter 10: Just Once More

Summary:

“-the faster we can retrieve Raph from the Torments of Karl- ”

First of all, I’m a part of the problem, so we aren’t retrieving anyone.

Secondly- from the torments of Karl?

Oh, no. No, no, no. This isn’t Karl’s domain, I’m afraid.

Notes:

This kid is always complaining: “No one gets it! It’s not fair! No one understands me!”

Honestly. His brothers get where I’m coming from.

“Aw, you talk all tough, but inside you’re just a scared little baby.”

“Who needs his bottle?”

“And his diaper changed?”

Just once more

Just once more

I will roll again

Today I know for sure

***

Raph doesn't remember returning to the room, but he absolutely remembers the feeling of furred hands dragging him back out, agitating the shoulder that shares his frustrated need to rest. He fights back as much as he can with the smooth cuffs keeping his arms together, digging his heels into the ground, and hating the blindfold that keeps him in the dark.

His struggle prevents him from being able to concentrate on his surroundings, and the dull throbs of pain that are practically ingrained in his cells aren't exactly doing him any favors.

He's dragged kicking and threatening until his still-healing arm is twisted. He releases a strangled gasp and Karl succeeds in dragging him into what feels like a chair. 

Raph wants to use his free legs to kick him where it'll really hurt, but the rabbit grabs his ankles, forcing them into shackles that must be built into the legs. The lock for the cuffs clicks, but Raph doesn't get a chance to make use of his free hands.

Metal closes over the cuffs as his arms are pressed against wood. Raph tugs and yanks until he feels the blindfold slip off.

Ignoring the smug mutant before him, Raph does a swift scan of his surroundings, finding himself in a room full of machinery. Bulbs blink, a soft hum fills the air past the blood gushing in his eardrums, and a consul sits a few feet in front of him, to his immediate left.

It's the first thing Ferrall approaches as rubber gloves are slipped over exposed skin, and Raph looks down at his arms, twisting and straining against the metal. He has as much luck now as with the shackles on the not-table in the lab.

He turns back to his captors. Karl is no longer in the room, possibly dismissed while he was distracted, and Nutjob is creepily still, merely watching him. 

Raph scowls. "A guy can't even get a few days to heal his dislocated arm?"

"I checked over your shoulder after you lost consciousness. Karl did an adequate job." Nutjob frowns, tapping his board. "Though, I'd hoped that his demonstration would have quelled that insubordination."

Raph bares his teeth, "Never gonna happen."

"Hmm." His captor clicks the pen and scribbles something down. He sets it on the edge of the consul and then lifts some wires splayed across it, importantly heading over to his tense prisoner. "To answer your question, your arm is in little danger of interoperability. I'm on a strict schedule, but I can be reasonable, Raphael."

Raph openly scoffs as he watches him press the metal padding around the wires on either side of his upper scutes, and for an inexplicable reason, they stick to his plastron. Nutjob checks it over, tugging cautiously at the wire, oblivious to the heavy dread smothering his specimen.

If Raph'd learned anything from Donnie and television, mad scientists aren't exactly the 'reasonable' type.

"I've arranged a few trials that shouldn't irreparably damage your injuries."

"Oh, goody." He grumbles. "You're only going to torture me some."

"Torture?" His statement seems to be given some consideration. "No. I wouldn't say torture. Pain is a factor, yes, but oftentimes it's the only way to test limits. A scholar tests the limits of his mind by exhausting it. Gymnasts test the limits of their bodies by training until they ache. I'm sure no part of learning- what was it, some kind of ninjitsu?- was entirely painless."

"That's different!" Raph sputters. "People want to do that stuff! It's- It's a choice! Do I look like I want this?!"

"And therein lies the problem." Nutjob points a finger in the air, turning away from the seething turtle. "You think you're people. Some messed-up reptilian conception of a man."

"I-!"

"You're delusional," Nutjob announces triumphantly, as if he'd solved a mystery of the universe. "Your reptilian DNA and animal instincts override everything needed to be truly human. You are a mutant, more turtle than man, and that makes you lesser than man. You're an animal, Raphael, and like all animals, you were put on this earth to help man thrive."

"I'm not some stray you found on the street!" He barks, a tad frantic. "I'm not human, but I'm still me! I'm a person! I'm talking to you right now, aren't I?! Make a turtle do that!"

"An average turtle is no mutant and a mutant is no average turtle." Nutjob picks up his clipboard and begins jotting something down. "Different evolutions equal different circumstances. Monkeys can complete human tasks when instructed. Mutants mimic them better."

Raphael gears up for another outburst, but Ferrall sets his attention to the consul and panic quiets him. "There's no reason to get worked up about it. Every level of intelligence fears what they can't comprehend. It's simply the way of life."

"You're insane!"

"Most genius is unappreciated in its time and I see the truth most humans can barely grasp." He calmly sets the clipboard down. "So it would be foolish of me to expect you to understand."

Raph clenches his fists as he growls in a low tone, unconsciously defending against the words that cut deep into insecurities that he pretends don't exist. He knows what he is. He knows what his family is- mutants, not monsters or abominations or animals. They're mutants- ninja- heroes- every one of them, and there's never been anything more to it.

Nutjob doesn't know anything about them. He doesn't know how hard Leo strives for perfection or how Mikey has to be a pest at all times to get every last ounce of attention they have. He doesn't know how Donnie works himself to the ground for their approval or how hard he struggles to control the anger that festers like an ugly parasite.

He doesn't know anything about anything.

So he's wrong.

He's crazy and psychotic and cruel and wrong.

He has to be.

A smug grin turns a disgusting person even nastier and the cocky air oozing off of him reminds Raph of how Leo acts when he thinks he's won an argument. It's an air that usually ends with Raph shaking with rage, refusing to concede to any point simply because of that look.

It never takes long for Raph to lose control and Leo to find himself on the floor, forced to defend a blow to the face. Their leader is always quick to block, but he'll keep smack-talking the entire time as if somehow that'll calm the raging inferno.

The notion that Nutjob isn't Leo has him lurching against the restraints that he forgot existed, straining uselessly as he obeys the urge to knock that grin off his face.

The grin never leaves, settling as Nutjob watches his fruitless struggle. "Now that we understand each other- try not to scream."

Raph barely processes this before his plastron goes warm, the wires sparking as the mad scientist slowly increases the voltage. He thinks he'll be able to handle it this time, considering how he'd been kidnapped the same way, but the electricity feels like it bypasses the imploding nerves in his plastron and enters his chest.

"Hnng-" His body reacts, convulsing and dragging out a grunt as it spreads from his organs and through his limbs. It feels like his burning muscles are panicking as they twitch and jerk. 

Then it's cold- there's liquid nitrogen traveling through his veins, and he feels like the controlled current is trying to force its way out of where it doesn't belong. Somewhere behind his incoherent screams and the agony that is demolishing every nerve in his body, he half-expects it to blast from his veins and skin in a blood-splattering burst of lightning.

He almost hopes it would.

Raph doesn't fully realize he's screaming until he's stopped. Everything aches and trembles and he's beyond exhausted. His eyelids flicker open, heavy with the tears that coat his face, and he takes a shaky breath in, staring at the wires trailing over his legs.  

"Inconclusive..." A bitter voice mutters, blending in on itself unnaturally. Raph can't remember why, but he knows it's a bad omen, and he only wants it to leave. "...didn't even... estimated... eed... again."

He stares blankly down at the wires that tug at a memory that he can't quite reach and shudders when fingers twitch on one hand, letting his eyes close again.

His plastron goes warm and the world resumes clarity.

He remembers.

Not that it does him any good.

"GAAA-!"

***

"-AHH!"

He hits the water and instinctively closes his mouth at the cold shock, which saves him from choking on the water that swallows his body. He sinks to the bottom of the tank that's too tall for him to attempt swimming back up in this state, especially without the use of his hands. 

So he remains on the ground, shivering as the cold hits each of his fried nerves. His chest still tries to heave despite no air coming in, the rippling water around him slowly settling. The harness strapped around him makes his ball uncomfortable, but he's barely conscious of this fact, more focused on getting his jittery muscles to stop twitching.

Maybe some part of his mind believes that this sad excuse for a self-hug will help. His cuffs prevent him from moving his arms, so he holds them to his chest, knees touching his elbows. His eyes sting as they slowly get used to the contact with the water, but there's not much to see. The room looks empty, except for the tank, and he wonders if this is all there is to the latest torture.

Raph thinks maybe he was instructed to do something, but he can't recall what. He tries to remember, hoping to put off a little more pain- he's not scared, just trying to survive- and give himself something to do that'll check that his brain still works after getting seared by lightning.

Ferrall said something about... C-Capacity? Lung- capacity?

He thinks the instructions have something to do with breathing. Or- not, breathing? The second one sounds right, considering he's been chucked into a large pool of unreasonably cold water.

Or maybe his nerves are so fried they don't know what warm water feels like anymore.

When he- he gets his hands on- th- papers- pen- he'll show Nutjob where to stick- stick 'em...

Mother of- of Mutations, he's tired. Tired. Stupid-tired. Why? Didn't even- do anything. 'Cept scream. Wiggle a bit...

...

Nitwit . 

Despite the risk of freezing to death, the water soothes the new burns and helps him relax some, instincts taking over so he doesn't accidentally breathe out. He almost wishes they'd just throw him back into the Room and leave him there so he can get a grip.

Almost.

The water is nice, gently rippling around him as his body twitches and spasms, and all noise is muffled long before it reaches him, so it's peaceful, in a way. He might be able to enjoy it if his body would listen and he didn't have to think about how unnatural the movements feel. 

It's like he's a puppet on a string, jerked about by a bored toddler who doesn't understand how to use him.

It's around the time that his body finally grants him some control that he realizes his lungs are aching, begging for him to allow them some oxygen. It's not painful yet, but it warns that it could be, which snaps him from the unthinking daze. 

Raph cautiously rises to his knees, weighed down by the surrounding liquid as he squints upward. He can't see anyone, not with how distorted the water is, but he knows that they're up there, and he wonders how much longer they're going to leave him here.

He stands on shaky legs and the movement turns the warming water frigid again. A shudder zips down his spine, goosebumps prickling across his limbs, and he treks to the wall of glass. He cranes his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of his captors, but he can't see anything past the distorted surface. Panic stirs, but it's ignored, and he looks to the harness line that follows him over, debating his options.

He doubts he can climb up with his hands essentially useless, and he has no concrete proof that there's something he's supposed to do before they pull him up. Is it as simple as holding his breath or are they going to keep him down here until he remembers? They'd probably just assume he's being stubborn if he doesn't do it, and he has no way to ask.

He doesn't think they'd let him drown, but Nutjob clearly doesn't know squat about mutant turtle biology. Shouldn't hurt, my shell...

Raph knows that turtles are known to hold their breaths for insanely long times. It's one of the things that they test out on occasion, satisfying Donnie's yearly curiosity with championships that focus on the turtle part of being a mutant ninja turtle.

Raph can't hold his breath for more than forty minutes, even with taunts and bribery from a smug Mikey who always beats them- this year by two measly minutes. Being a natural at things that don't matter always was his shtick.

"So the great Raphael can be knocked down a peg. Nice job, Mikey."

A fist bump is traded as Leo hides a smile. Raph scowls bitterly.

"Don't make me come over there, Don."

"Aww, don't cry, Raph! You just don't got my natural talent. 'nothing to be ashamed of!"

"Mikey, I am one wrong word away from sabotaging the competition."

"Green's a bad color on you, bro." 

"It's my only color, Mikey."

"I don't know how you live with yourself."

"That's it! Get over here!"

The swelling panic softens at the thought of his youngest brother and he can picture him, eyes shining as he sets hands on his hips, flashing a cocky grin full of pride. It's a close mimic to Raph's own, yet so undeniably Mikey. Sometimes, he doesn't know how he feels about rubbing off so strongly on their youngest. 

Raph tries to influence him in ways that matter. He wants Mikey to be able to take care of himself. He spends too much time in his head. One day, it's going to get him seriously hurt. 

Or worse.

He wants to prevent that in every way he can.

"You don't think I can take care of myself! I'm just as much a ninja as you are!"

"Sure, you are. I've had to save your shell in a fight, how many times?" 

"I never asked for your help!"

"I know! You're so delusional, you don't even realize how badly you need it!" 

The last thing he wants is for Mikey to actually be him.

The pressure against his plastron is growing the longer he stands, so he allows his legs to buckle underneath him- not out of weakness, but out of necessity.

It feels like the air in his lungs is pressing against his ribs, but he knows that letting it out will only make not breathing ten times worse. He squeezes his eyes shut and closes his fists against the ground, wishing he had something else to think about other than how easy it would be to just release the breath and get that moment of relief.

But there's no air!

He focuses on the thought, even as the water settles and the area around him doesn't feel as moist. It's disorienting, how soundless and dark and comforting everything is. Maybe they pulled him out. Maybe he never went it. Maybe it's all in his head. He needs to breathe. He should breathe- 

Both fists slam the ground before he's even conscious of the frustration that influences the strike, and he wants to scream the fury out, but that would only be giving in to the pleas that would hurt rather than help. Breathe- NO- can- CAN'T- breathe- DON'T-!

He slams the ground, over and over, until his arms ache. He hates how hard it is to punch with the water weighing him down, and he almost doubles over when a spike of pain against his knuckles makes his body try to release a reflexive gasp. He clamps both hands over his beak for all the good that it will do him, startled when a sharp whine shoots through the water. 

His eyes shoot open at the sound, but he can't find the cause.

It's shoved to the back of his mind as his lungs burn, body joining his mind in the battle to breathe. He knows he's not going to last much longer, so he releases his mouth to grab the harness line and yank.

Pull me up! Pull me up! I need to breathe, need to breathe, need to-!

***

-MOVE-!

He flips over another barbbot, wet hands slipping out from under him. His jaw hits the smooth floor and blinding pain pierces his tongue, followed by the bitter taste of copper. The copper snaps him back into the moment, and he resumes his stance on all fours, charging away from the two barbbots converging behind him.

The lasers aren't even trying to get him, spinning in a fluid circle above his head. There are only six, and if he times it right, he can flip or stand momentarily, but he can't stay upright without risking his torso getting sliced in half. 

He assumes that this is Nutjob's payback for finding a loophole in his "training".

His lungs burn as they try to manage the change from no air to constant oxygen and the sensation keeps him alert enough to avoid more barbs in his flesh. A barbbot appears directly in front of him- don't touch, don't TOUCH, EVADE, EVADE- and he slides while completing a sharp turn. He's not quick enough to stop, and a barb hits his side, prompting a cry of pain.

Instinct prevails when he kicks out in a moment of agonized impulse. The barbbot spirals, hovering wildly into the air and then getting sliced in half by one of the lasers. It splits and explodes, the pieces landing just a few feet away from the frozen turtle, and for a moment, everything around him seems to freeze as well.

Then the laser shuts off and the lights come on.

His blood goes cold as he scrambles to his feet, staggering away from the door. His cuffs lock when he stands, making his hands useless for defense, and he can't help the terror and fury that seer through his bones. His carapace hits the wall. "No! No, that's not fair! That's not fair- it's not- I didn't mean to! I didn't mean to! I was evading, I didn't-"

***

"-m-mean too, didn't..."

Another shudder prompts a trembling exhale and he watches it form into a cloud of steam before his eyes, dissipating into nothing. He squeezes his legs in tighter, glaring at the blur of a door. Barely coherent pleas continue to break the ringing silence, even though Karl had discarded him in his room and disappeared long ago.

He hates this place so much. More than meditation, more than bugs, more than space. He hates it, hates Karl, hates Nutjob, hates the cold, the tests, the Room- he hates everything!

"-w-wasn't my fffault, 'm tired, w-was, n't fffair, d-didn't mmean t-too, 's not fair-"

He doesn't know how he can feel each shudder that wracks through his body with the shivers that claim it, but he thinks he hates them too. Even if they make his body feel a little less numb.

He can barely feel his fingers, and they're unreasonably stiff when he tries to move them- to get any feeling back into them. Most of the water was knocked off during Karl's vicious beating- "At it again so soon? Aren't I lucky!"- but he can still feel some clinging to his skin like the blood, not quite ice and not quite liquid.

Supposedly he's the most warm-blooded out of all of his brothers, but he doesn't feel that way now, unable to get any warmth beyond his venomous thoughts and burning hate. Even anger can't keep him warm, not that he has the energy to be properly angry anymore.

All he can think about is how cold the room is- way colder than the water was. He can't remember ever being this cold in his life. Beyond anything else, he wants to obey the urge to duck into his shell in the hopes of preserving some body heat, but his cuffs are still locked together. He has no idea if they'd fit inside even if they are apart, but he's not even allowed a chance to try.

He hates this.

He hates this.

He hates this-

Yet another cough tears out of his lungs and he can't hold it down, aching with the little movement that comes with rolling on his plastron to steady himself. It breaks off in a wheeze and he collapses again. 

Each breath of icy air stings his chest as the wall blurs in and out of his vision.

"'s dumb, n-not fff-ai-h-hate- not- can't- eva-aded- was- cold- hurts-"

A whine escapes as he curls into the tightest ball that he can manage. He doesn't want to do any more tests. He doesn't want to return to the training room or any other room or even stay in this one Room that was supposed to be safe-

It was stupid to assume that he would be safe anywhere with Ferrall in control because Ferrall was the one in control. Not him, not Karl- it was so stupid. He's impulsive and angry- not stupid. Not- it was his fault he got caught. His fault. So stupid. His fault. Why was he so stupid?

"-ssstupid- stupid-stup-p-"

He wants to go home.

He wants to feed Chompy and be dragged into real training. He wants to get knocked off his feet by a harmless, annoying prank, and throw insults at bad movies with professor brainy-off. He wants to call Mona when he's not supposed to, and let his brothers talk him into a 'family bonding activity', and sit on the couch with soda and snacks and comics  and- and dumb jokes and pillows- heaters- blankets- 

He wants to stop being so-

"-cold." 

He whimpers as a final proclamation to the uncaring world, falling limp as his brain comprehends what his body doesn't yet.

 He can't get warm. 

He can't win the tests. 

He can't stop the pain. 

He can't. Do. ANYTHING. 

He-

He can't go home.

He just wants to go home...

 

Notes:

“What’s the matter, Raph? Gonna cry?”

Chapter 11: Special Place In Hell

Summary:

Okay, but, come on, Ferrall can't be that bad!

Raph’s a tough case. They gotta get him to crack somehow.

If he’d simply obey, everything would be so much easier…

There's a special place in Hell

A zero-star hotel

Don't worry 'bout your stay

'Cause I've already paid

There's a special place in Hell 

For you

***

Raph's list of things to hate is endless. 

He doesn't even think he could get through all of them if he tried, and when his brothers finally show, he is definitely going to try. They leave him imprisoned for who-knows-how-long and they can take what they can get. Not like he can whine to his heart's content here. 

When he made the mistake of letting such thoughts slip free, Karl had taken it as a challenge. With a malicious sneer and brass knuckles pressing against his Adam's apple, Karl'd cruelly pried a reluctant admittance from his exhausted body. 

He liked the food. 

It was the first thing that came to mind. It was also true enough that the rabbit was satisfied. 

Raph had sat in that cell for hours after Karl dropped him and strode out, stock-still and terrified at the dawning realization that they might begin withholding his meals. Karl would be more than happy for any excuse to increase his misery. 

He couldn't breathe. He couldn’t think. He didn't dare sleep. He just waited. 

Despite every inch of his mind drowning in the certainty of what was to come, nothing changed. 

Raph assumes that Nutjob doesn't want to risk malnourishment. A turtle that can't function is a turtle that can't do tests. As much as he'd like to be able to look his brothers in the eyes and say he was strong enough to refuse food and rid the mad scientist of his experiment- he can't. 

He's always shaking and ravenous when food does arrive. 

He's stubborn, but he's not strong enough to refuse what every inch of him craves. It's suicide.

He hates life under Nutjob's care, but he's nowhere near suicidal. 

Raph breathes in. He closes his eyes and reverses to the previous line of thought before he can continue dwelling on the dangerous one. He breathes out.

Food. 

Fine. 

It's usually in the form of meat salads, unless Nutjob is feeling particularly pleased with the latest round of torture and decides to 'gift' him with fish and fruits. Everything has to be eaten by hand, probably so he doesn't give into the urge to gauge out someone's eyes with a fork or spoon. It isn't a terrible precaution considering he's a ninja trained in the arts of using even comic books as weapons.

Man. He missed comic books. 

Might as well add that to the list.

Aw, prison apples. Now he's hungry.

He just had to think about food...

He hates getting hungry and knowing there's nothing he can do about it. Rationing food only makes the time in between meals seem longer. He's not sure if that's Nutjob's doing or if it's all in his head. At the very least, the price of eating is sleep.

That's the only time it's brought. Sometimes by Karl. Sometimes by masked gang members. 

Raph tried faking once. He successfully whacked the food-delivery mobster with the plate and then took down the three guards outside the door. He'd barely made it up a few stairs before Karl appeared to knock him down and out.

He woke up in the electricity room and experienced what Ferrall calmly called needle therapy.

A shudder runs through Raph's body and he clenches his fists where they're extended into a kata, pushing the illusions of pain and fear as far out of reach as he can.

It doesn't matter that every second of it hurt or that every second after lasted in slow-ticking agonizing eternity. 

It doesn't matter that whatever muscle-loosening technique Ferrall did worked enough for him to announce that he'd try it again the next time Raph felt the need to 'act out'.

It doesn't matter that the memory is burned into the back of his mind as an ominous, taunting reminder of what's to come if he fails another test or escape attempt.

It doesn't matter, because as soon as his brothers storm the place, Raph's going to get far, far away from Nutjob and his needles.

He delivers a swift kick to the air, bringing in his arms as he completes a roundhouse spin, and grunts when his leg hits the ground. A spasm of stabbing pain shoots up his right thigh at the new weight and his knees almost buckle. He catches himself, forcing his trembling body into a calculated crouch, beads of sweat travel down his neck.

Raph hasn't seen either of his tormentors in a few meals. The tension had been stifling, and he knows he should be resting, but he can't stop the restless anticipation that twists his gut. He doesn't know what he's anticipating, but it won't leave him alone.

Unable to sit still any longer, he decided to see how far he could get through a few rounds of simple katas. He hates that the movements that were once perfectly fluid are pained and stiff.

The reason for this change is no mystery. The only constant other than food is the so-called training, even if the challenges have changed since day one. He's fought several different kinds of robots and drones, used his skills to bypass a perfectly simulated minefield, and gone through four obstacle courses that focused on all-fours travel.

He's actually insanely awesome. 

Not that anyone's surprised. 

Raph knows better than to try loopholes anymore. Even if the whole walking-like-a-dog-thing is getting easier to manage, they usually come back to bite him in the shell. He doesn't need to risk causing more problems for himself in the long run.

Raph lets out his breath slowly, air trembling on its way out, and then takes in a new breath. The ache is still there, but it's not as bad as his body gets used to the position, even managing to relax into it.

If he closes his eyes, he can picture Mikey and Donnie beside him; their youngest brother practically hovering as he asks Raph what's wrong for the millionth time and Donnie silently notes every twinge of pain, preparing to corner him into a check-up later. He hates that Leo is no longer in that imaginary line with them, always standing in front to lead them through katas, to remind Raph of exactly why things can never feel normal.

"You have to take training more seriously, Raphael."

"Back off, Leo."

"You'd never shirk lessons in the past. Why now?"

"You know why."

"I know I'm not Splinter, but-"

He shoves away the hand meant for comfort. "I said back off!"

"No!" His feet are planted, stance unmoving. "As your sensei, I'm supposed to-"

"Whoever said we wanted you to be our sensei?!"

A soft click and Raph doesn't bother looking up, because no mobster ever enters when he's awake- how they always know when he's sleeping, he can't figure out- which leaves only one other option. His personal bully is here to drag him off for the latest round of torture.

"If it isn't Ferall's little pet playing fetch." He gets to his feet, purposefully straightening every muscle despite the ache buried in his bones, and the burning on his thigh as it begs for relief. Be stronger than the pain. Be stronger than the pain. "Don't you have anything better to do? A carrot to nibble on or something?"

He earns a passive sneer. "My time belongs to Ferrall, same as yours."

"Mutant pet." Raph spits distastefully. "I don't belong to anybody."

"And you've been following orders all on your own?" His arms lock as the blindfold emerges. Karl leers over him, and he unflinchingly meets the glare. "How very tame of you."

Oh, he'll show him tame.

The rabbit reaches to put on the blindfold and Raph ducks his head to the side. This earns him a knee to the gut. He stumbles back, and Karl follows his steps as an ear twitches. "We doing this the hard way, then?"

Karl curls his hands into a fist and swings down when he remains doubled over. "Fine by me!"

Raph waits until the last second to swerve aside. His assailant is knocked off-balance by the force of his own blow. 

Raph throws his shoulder into his left side and succeeds in making him lose his footing. He spins when Karl stumbles and slams his cuffed fists into the side of his skull. 

The mutant goes down hard, the chains across his suit clattering upon meeting with the floor, and Raph plants a foot on him, leaning his weight in firm dominance. "Let's get one thing straight, freakshow. I. Am not. An animal. I'm a mutant. You can't tame me. You can't train me. And I won't stop fighting until my brothers show up to kick all your sadistic butts."

Karl shakes off the pain, surprise morphing into disgust. "What even makes you think they're coming?"

"I don't think. I know." 

Raph's never been this sure of anything. Even if he didn't have proof from past experiences, he wouldn't have felt any less. They're a crime-fighting family and getting each other's shells out of insane danger is practically their favorite pastime.

At least, before things went 'quiet'.

Still, they're coming for him, and he doubts that anyone in the facility understands simple things like loyalty and faith, so there's no point in explaining anyway.

Karl grins. "I guess that leaves me no choice."

A hand shoots out to jab at Raph's bandaged thigh, and he cries out when the leg crumbles out from underneath him, falling to a knee as pain rockets across in his torso. Karl climbs to his feet as though nothing happened, leaning to roughly tie on the blindfold.

"I'm going to have to do something about that." Raph winces as the taut sides of the fabric dig into his cheekbones, and then a hand hooks his underarm, forcing him to his feet. "Slow them down, maybe. You could survive without that leg, couldn't you?"

Raph can barely keep his footing with how bad he's shaking, and swallows down the fear, snapping, "He'll know it was you."

"Of course, but I'm meant to discipline rowdy specimens, remember?" The cool tone softens dangerously, careful to share a secret meant only for them. "Ferrall has cameras everywhere, but I know codes. Who's to say one night when Doc is out, I don't decide to use them? Stage a little escape attempt? Have a little fun of my own?"

The air is stuck in his throat, mingling with his false bravo and heartbeat as Karl chuckles, "My word against yours, Raphael."

He sounds like he's relishing the thought, the hand on his arm tightening possessively, claws digging into bruised skin. Raph remains rooted to the spot, acutely aware of how small and helpless he feels in that moment, in the dark and at the mercy of a maniac. He can only imagine what Karl's idea of 'a little fun' might be and the thought terrifies him more than any test of Ferrall's can.

His shoulders slump, muscles loosening to give into the hold, and Karl relaxes his grip.

"That's what I thought."

Raph feels a sharp tug and numbly allows himself to be led through the facility before the threat can become a reality. Every step shoots a new spasm of pain, but they're manageable and distract from the terror seeping in, so in a way, he's grateful. He doesn't know what's coming next, but it has to be better than whatever Karl has in mind.

The sooner he's traded out for Ferrall, the better.

***

Karl removes the blindfold at the metal door and Raph gets a momentary glance at blue walls before being surrounded by the impossibly pristine white once more. The door shuts, but the cuffs do not unlock. The break in routine triggers a flush of panic, but Raph keeps an outward cool, looking to the transparent wall expectantly. 

He frowns as Karl opens the door and says something, frustrated that he never took Donnie up on the lip-reading lessons. There's a brief exchange between the two. Nutjob remains dismissive and distracted, his attention on the monitor, fingers impatiently tapping the desk near the room's console. Karl's grimace deepens into a scowl and Nutjob looks up with mild irritation, seemingly giving the last word.

With the posture of a pouting child, Karl leaves the room.

Raph remains where he was shoved, scrutinizing the scientist on the other side. Nutjob turns away as the door shuts behind Karl and then seems to take notice of the abandoned turtle, merely gesturing for him to move further into the room. 

Raph begrudgingly heads away from the only means of escape, warily lowering himself down next to a portion of the wall and floor that doesn't have hidden attachments. 

After several minutes of anxious anticipation and Ferrall not being bothered to acknowledge his existence, Raph stands up. The room is buzzing in silence as he soundlessly travels to the nearest floor hatch, crouching down and tracing the line indent in the floor. 

Certain hatches contain certain objects, but the only ones that he's seen inside are the mine cubbies. He wonders if the bots are loaded on a lower floor and if there is any chance of using it as an escape route. 

The door slams open and Raph shoots to his feet, stepping away from the hatch and checking on Nutjob. The scientist's posture is loose as he stands and adjusts his lab coat, so Raph knows he's not in trouble. His arms are useless when his personal bully invades his space once more. 

He instinctively steps back because this is not how this works. 

Now he tra- fights. Now he fights. 

He fights and runs and evades; that's how this works. 

This is new, and he doesn't like it at all. 

"What-"

The cloth that normally covers his eyes is roughly wrapped around his mouth. He gags reflexively as Karl grabs his arm and drags him towards the door. Raph swallows down a condemning and useless remark about the lack of a blindfold. 

Nutjob waits for them in the hall, attention visibly elsewhere as he begins walking. Raph takes in the long blue halls and annoyingly closed doors. It looks like some sort of horror movie hallway. Other than numbers that are plastered a little higher than his eye level, there's no change in the hallways they turn into. 

They head down a stairway and Raph recognizes the doors on the lower floor. Every single one of them looks just as reinforced as the others and they're all shut. One of these cells has to be his. He figured the guys had more than one, but... There are so many... 

What else does Nutjob have stashed down here? 

Raph subconsciously braces his heels against the ground and Karl jostles him, forcing him to stumble a few steps. His teeth dig into the fabric with a dark look to the mutant that won't even look him in the eyes. Nutjob stops at a door and fiddles with his pocket. 

Chances are, he's about to find out. 

The door clicks permission for entrance so he pulls it open, stepping inside with a cool air that makes Raph wonder if they'd already tamed whatever is stashed in there. 

A low growl welcomes them into the room much like his own, and the first thing he sees is the bars of red slanted horizontally about a foot away from the door, leaving enough room to walk from the door to the wall across the room and then back. A metal doorway intersects near the other wall, guarded by similar streaks of red. 

"Don't worry." Karl taunts in a low tone. "The lights are too bright to look through. We're practically invisible on this side..." 

His unease blossoms into new fear as he recognizes the implications of placing him on the other side with- whatever's back there. His eyes scan the dark and lock onto sudden movement.

He scans the figure behind the lasers. His eyes slowly widen in shock. 

It's huge. Scarlet illuminates the sickly grey scales and spiky shell. The spikes protrude from the carapace while the cracked and scarred plastron brandishes some of its own. Long talons claw into the ground as it keeps itself steady and upright. The beak is more pronounced than his or his brothers, more similar to Slashes, but thinner at the end. 

It's- a turtle?

"Macrochelys temminckii." Raph's head snaps to the scientist watching the beast with a tone of expectancy and pride. It almost reminds him of the way Donnie speaks when his younger brother expects him to care about whatever nerd thing he's ranting about that day. 

He quickly dismisses the thought because he doesn't like comparing his compassionate younger brother to the psycho.  "Not the same species as you and your brothers, I know, but I could not help but be inspired by you four. By your mind, agility, skill, savagery." 

There's something in his gaze that Raph can't read. Goosebumps rise over his arms and now his heels purposefully dig to keep him in place when Karl tries moving him. 

Ferrall pays them no attention, stuck in a villain monologue as he digs through a pocket. "It was astonishing. I wanted to harness that. I needed to harness it. I was unaware of your species at the time, but I knew I didn't want any old turtle. I aimed high, but the results were unfavorable. The aggression is there, but there's also a frustrating lack of response to my methods."

Raph is less than surprised when they move toward the laser door, primal yellow eyes never quite landing. The lasers disappear and he's shoved through. 

He staggers before getting his footing, whirling as Karl smugly releases the button on the metal frame. Officially sealing him in with-

A low growl from behind him has his shoulders hiking up, stiff as his stomach contracts with an anxiety-fueled frustration. Every movement is slow and calculated as he faces the mutant. It might be twice as big as Slash, maybe bigger still, and his buddy was already massive.

It's just as cautious as he is, but it looks- wrong. 

One eye is contracted and the other is dilated, drool dripping on the floor as it sniffs the air. The scents that it finds; it doesn't like. It's closer now, remaining on all fours as a low growl filters between them. Even the way it growls sounds off, but not in a way that he can explain. 

It just... Does.

Somehow he knows it's only a warning, that it's just trying to figure him out. He's not in danger.

Yet.

Boney claws try to cling to the floor, spikes along its back flexing as it growls again. 

It wants him out. 

Too bad it's not up to him. 

"So tell me why I'm in here again?" Raph demands after his cuffs release and he can get the germy fabric out of his mouth. The beast eyes the cloth as it falls to the ground then growls at him again. 

He gets closer to the laser, trying to give the brute some room. "Oh, right. Ya didn't."

Nutjob silently observes. It takes a step towards him and he scowls because if it wants its space so much, then how come it doesn't just stay put?

Raph's body gives up, but his mouth keeps moving. "New roommate? Big guy got a name? 'Cause I'm sure not calling it whatever gibberish you spouted."

"I call her Mac." Karl offers nonchalantly. 

Her. Female, then. Alright. 

The beast steps back at his voice, sniffing the air and chirping. Raph's anxiety is overlapped by something softer, recognizing it as a plea. A quick reassurance that she's being good.

That doesn't make sense. He could never really understand Spi- Slash when he was a turtle. Is it because she's a mutant? Can he understand some kind of secret mutant turtle language? He could always understand his brothers, but... They're his brothers. So, duh.

Don and Mike would have a field day with this. 

Raph wonders why Karl bothers naming a mutant that they just plan to enslave and abuse. Probably the same reason abusive pet owners adopt pets. What's wrong with people?

"Hey, Mac." Raph calls out to the unbelievably tense mutant before she remembers him on her own and decides that he's a threat that needs to be torn to pieces. He can hear the change in his tone, some deep instinct gentleing it without his permission. 

He'll allow it, but only because he needs to calm her down. For survival sake. 

If the annoying silent scientist and his ugly pet would get out, he'd have a better chance here, but a turtle's gotta do what a turtle's gotta do. "Didn't mean to bother you, big... Girl. I'm not here to hurt you. Just... Hanging out for a bit."

Ugh. He sounds so dumb. 

She only blinks at him. No growling or snarling though, so that has to be a plus. 

Ha. And Leo says he's bad at making nice with people.

"Incorrect." Nutjob cuts in. "This isn't a social visit. This is an extermination."

Raph tears his eyes away long enough to send him an affronted look. "A what?"

"Extermination." Nutjob repeats. Then, as if he thinks Raph is too dumb to understand what that entails, he adds. "I want you to kill her." 

Raph turns to Karl, but he doesn't seem remotely surprised by the affirmation.

 He looks back at Mac and then at their captor. He could very easily go on some long rant about ethics and insanity and the obvious issues with murder- but that won't change anything, so he puts an end to the thought with a simple, "No."

Nutjob looks genuinely startled. "No?"

"No." Raph repeats heatedly. He tries to keep his posture loose so that she doesn't feel threatened, despite how much he wants to punch something. Other than the enslaved mutant that doesn't deserve it, that is. "I'm not killing someone."

"Not someone." Nutjob corrects. "A mutant. An expendable one at that."

"Don't know if you've forgotten." Raph mocks snidely. "But I'm a mutant. And a someone!"

"You're confused."

"You're sick in the head if you think I'm going to murder an innocent mutant I just met!"

"I don't see why the timeframe of introduction matters here."

"It doesn't! I wouldn't kill her anyway!"

Nutjob studies him with the patience of a parent watching their pouting toddler refuse to complete an impossibly simple task. "Raphael, she's only a mistake."

"I'm sure your parents said the same about you."

Karl snorts from where he leans on the wall, a not-so-hidden smirk visible. Nutjob's eyes darken, but Raph refuses to back down. Beating up robots and Karl are one thing; he's not gonna murder people because some psychopath says so. 

Because that's what mutants are. What this mutant is. A person. 

"I've seen you in action." Nutjob's calm air turns eerie. "Hurting living beings has never been an issue before. You have every capability."

"Knocking heads is one thing! Killing someone is another!" Raph snarls. A low growl filters in, but he's too heated to stop now. "That's decent-human-being 101! I'm not killing anyone! End of discussion!"

"Told you he wouldn't do it." Karl butts in. "He knows he can't take that thing. Let me do it."

"Taking turns is a skill preschoolers learn, Karl." Nutjob proceeds to dig in his labcoat pocket as the lurking mutant behind him locks his jaw, seething at the burn. "And he'll do it."

"No!" Raph barks irritably. "He won't!"

Nutjob looks around the room as if expecting whatever he's looking for to mystically appear. Then he holds out a hand to Karl, stating, "Right. Give it back."

Karl grumbles under his breath but fishes what he needs out of the jumpsuit. He drops it in his hand and Nutjob taps the remote without a second of hesitation. The mutant shrieks and Raph watches in horror as electricity runs up the revealed band framing her chest, traveling along her scutes, unaware that a creature that big could make such a shrill sound. 

He steps forward on impulse, pulling his hand back upon realizing that touching her wouldn't do anything. Chances are there's a reason that pure muscle hasn't ripped it off yet. 

He whirls to face them. "Quit it!"

Nutjob releases the button, raising an eyebrow. "You could end her pain."

End her-?

DUDE WHAT?!

Raph clenches his fists at his sides, unconsciously placing himself between the abuser and the abused. "Do whatever you want to me, but leave her alone!"

"There's an ambiguity to animals that has always fascinated me." Nutjob doesn't even acknowledge the demand as he taps down on the button.  Mac staggers to the side, throwing herself into the wall with a mix of a hiss and snarl. "You never know how they'll react to negative stimuli. Those who have higher intelligence could hypothetically reason out the threat. Those that serve off pure instinct, well, they tend to... Jump to conclusions."

He releases the button. "Lash out on even those that intend to assist. Not intentionally, of course. They don't know better. Not nearly enough brain power. So they simply... Bite the hand that feeds them, if you will. No remorse. No hesitation."

Raph's so caught up in Nutjob's eerily calm speech that he doesn't recognize the warning or the threat until dilated yellow eyes lock on him. The electricity abruptly stops. 

She staggers back upright, opening her mouth and releasing a low hiss. He scrambles to figure out what she's saying, and suddenly knows it's a warning, maybe a countdown of sorts, something like better start running before I'm done hissing or you're done for.

She's far from a happy camper and she wants him gone now. 

Raph holds out his hands passively, as far back as he can be, ignoring the cold chill running down his back. "Woah, woah, hey, it's not me!"

"Isn't it?" Ferrall muses in monotone. "After all, we're not even here."

Mac lunges. He cries out and ducks to roll out of her path, scrambling away from the echoing snaps of her beak. She digs her talons into the floor before she can slide into the lasers, tail lashing as she stalks back towards him. Something sparks as he sizes her up, taking note of the way she avoids leaning on her left foreleg. 

Fine. He'll fight, only 'cause she'll kill him otherwise.

No one in this cage is dying today. 

"Alright, Mac." He cracks his neck and raises his arms in invitation. "Might as well show me what you got." 

She gets her footing and charges him. He flies to the left and throws himself at the wall, springing off in time to offer a spinning kick to the beak. Adrenaline distracts from the pain and he lets years of skill take the lead, keeping his stance steady. 

She roars and stumbles, shaking off the pain to snap at his sore arm, but he swerves away from the powerful jaw. "Not sure what it is with everyone and this arm, but I still need it!"

She makes a second attempt and he slides underneath her to avoid it. Two can play that game.

He switches into a run and then rams her bad leg, sprinting away when it brings that side of her body to the ground. He comes to an abrupt stop at the wall of lasers that is closer than he'd realized, inches from an intrigued Karl. 

Raph recoils and the rabbit only smirks before pointing behind him. He doesn't manage to turn fast enough to stop Mac from locking her jaw around his plastron and carapace.

He entertains the fleeting notion that she's going to break through his shell in one sound chomp, but then she's shaking him left and right like a dog with a favorite toy. "HeeEEeeEEYYYY!"

His hands slip when he tries to get a good enough hold to even try forcing her mouth open, fighting intense nausea and squeezing his eyes shut since his world has been reduced to an red-and-grey blur. 

She chucks him and he hits the ground rolling. He groans when he stops, forceing himself back to his feet, trying to straighten out the several beasts lurching towards him. They all seem intent on smashing his skull so he rolls to his feet and dives in the opposite direction, blocked from further escape by a corner of the room.

He spins as she does, laying both palms on the wall behind him and giving his body some time to work itself out. Mac has little care for his current fight to keep his guts in his body and charges at him with her head down, probably hoping to crack his carapace against the wall. 

He decides to meet her halfway, springing from the floor and flipping onto the surface of her shell. He practically flies over as she rears to a stop, grabbing onto one of the protruding spikes before she whirls and chirps confused notes in search of him. 

He braces between more spikes, leaning against her scutes and giving his rattled brain some time to sort itself out. The spike in front of him slowly comes into focus. 

He reaches out and grabs hold of it with his free hand, dizzily muttering. "This is either going to be really smart or really dumb."

He collects every ounce of strength and tears it off. She yelps and he uses her spikes to hop across her back, jabbing it into her already injured leg. She crumbles instantly, and he scrambles up the side of her carapace like a sailor abandoning ship, leaping off the bridge of her shell and landing in a roll. 

He gets to his feet and stands in preparation for a more brutal response, but she's down.

She whines as she tries and fails to rise onto the leg. It's so close to the sound that one of his brothers makes when seriously hurt that it immediately tugs at his heartstrings. Raph lowers the spike in his hand guiltily and grumbles, "Nothing personal, Mac. Was you or me."

He turns to the lasers, throwing the spike to the ground and proclaiming, "There. She's down." 

"That wasn't the requirement." Nutjob states coolly. 

"Don't care." Raph snaps despite the anxiety nestling in his gut. He hardens his resolve. "I don't care! Do whatever you want to me-  I've never been good at taking orders, and I sure as heck won't start now! I'm not going to be your good little homicidal accomplice, so back off!"

"Oh, yeah?" 

Karl.

Raph has enough time to register that he's about to be in pain before his carapace hits the ground and his brain rings. He readies himself for the following blow, but when it doesn't come, he rolls over onto his side, bracing his elbow to scan for his abuser. 

He's not hovering over him or preparing for another blow, but he is stalking up to the injured Mac. Karl presses the remote as Mac writhes and shrieks. 

"No!" He hears himself gasping, forcing his body onto all fours. "Don't touch her!"

"If you're such a goody-goody..." Karl snarls as he spins the spike in one hand. "How come your little tool here is the perfect length to do this!"

He stabs her through the throat before either amphibian sees it coming, spike embedding into the floor underneath and coating it in a thick, scarlet puddle. 

Raph's world clangs to a harsh stop. 

He watches her choke.

Mac's eyes go from pained to blank in seconds. The life seeping out of her faster than he can process it and then she's silent. He stares at the limp body as the color and the shape change, flashing from tall and brown to broad and green. The only thing that remains the same is the scarlet wound and lifeless stare that can never be undone. 

"I don't know..." A shape stalks towards him, echoey words only taking meaning when something solid locks against his throat and he finds a smear of gray blocking his view. He looks up at the smug eyes without an ounce of remorse as Karl muses, "Seems to me like you might have been taking precautions. Do we just need to give you more of a push next time?"

Raph hits the ground. He tries to get up, freezing when he spots the limp turtle and the reality crashes down on him.

He slaughtered her. He actually- she's dead. She's just- He just-

He killed her. Like it meant nothing. 

Something painful twists in his chest and makes it hard to breathe, leaving him unaware that he should have been moving until he's being wrenched off his carapace. The mocking sneer takes him in. "Not even going to deny it?"

Raph wants to feel the familiar anger, but defeat oozes under his scales instead, numbing the flame that burned a few minutes prior. Karl snarls and swings his fist, catching his chest and sending a burning pulse across it. He gasps in pain before he lands.

Raph skids against the cold concrete, dimly aware of a sudden heat near his legs. 

He looks at the lines of faint red decorating the floor in front of him before he's in the air again and the heat is against his skull. 

"What's wrong with you?" Karl demands as he scans him with a scowl. "Where's all that smack talk? I killed your new friend. Go on. Tell me what you're going to do to me."

Raph shudders, breath rattling in his ribs.

"You can't be tamed, right? You're a mutant. So fight-"

"Karl."

The rabbit clamps his mouth shut and looks to their left. Whatever he sees has him scowling and then letting Raph drop to the floor with a heavy thud. The hothead struggles upright even as his arms tremble and his chest burns, constricted pupils shooting to the scientist walking up in even stride.

His cuffs lock and his heart sinks. 

This is the first activity of the day, which means that they're moving on. The flood of something weighing down on him almost cracks, fists clenching and eyes watering as he looks to the floor in the hopes of keeping himself together. No, no, no- I can't-  c-can't...

"You want this to stop?"

Ferrall stops at his side, keeping some distance between them. Raph jerks his head up in shock and then realizes that the curious tone is less of a facade and more of a genuine question. 

Despite how absolutely stupid and demeaning it is, he weakly forces himself to nod.

Ferrall steps closer and he can't help the instinct to cower. There's no point in trying to escape, and they both know it. "You haven't given up before. Why now?"

A million and one thoughts rush through his head. All that comes out is a shaky-

"She's dead."

He frowns and studies him. Karl growls and crosses his arms impatiently. 

Ferrall tilts his head. "Apologize."

"...What?" Raph wheezes out, trying to figure out what he's playing at.

"You disobeyed," Ferrall states simply. "I want an apology."

"I-I-" Raph clamps his mouth shut, unable to bring himself to say it. Neither of them deserves an apology because this isn't right- none of it- and he isn't going to stoop that low- he's not that pathetic- but the idea that he might listen- that he'd make this stop-

A dark shadow leers over him, eager to punish for disobedience. "You heard him. Say. It."

His pride cracks like whatever it is that burns in his chest. "Sorry."

A light tone. "For what? Be specific now."

"S-sorry for-" His breath escapes faster than he expects. It feels like something is sitting directly on his lungs, sucking the air out before he can use it. As if the simmering self-loathing doesn't already make the sentence impossible to spit out. 

Karl cracks his knuckles. Raph tries again, desperately summoning all the will he has in him. "Sorry- ffor dis'beying."

Ferrall waves dismissively and Karl steps away. The scientist steps forward, settling on one knee and examining Raph for a long moment. He raises a hand, and Raph feels a full-body flinch shake his frame, shutting his eyes and cringing in preparation.

"Good," The hand comes down to pat his carapace like one might console a disobedient dog after a punishment. "You know, I asked you to do it of your own volition. I do hope you understand that you earn these punishments. This pain is unnecessary. Death is something nature intends, as is the strong dictating the weak."

Raph knows he wants some sort of affirmation, but he doesn't move, resisting the urge to get rid of the unsolicited touch resting on his scutes. If he opens his eyes, he'll see the limp body in his peripheral, but he refuses, stomach twisting as a now-familiar nausea climbs to his throat.

A pause. Impossibly dense silence.

"Humans don't make friends with our natural enemies, Raphael. Their predispositions won't allow it." The hand on his carapace strokes along the scutes. "Even humans can't resist our natures to be higher than the rest. It's a mere matter of staying at the top of the food chain. Surely you understand that?"

Raph doesn't dare respond as he waits for some kind of brutal turnabout- for him to laugh and tell Karl to finish him off- maybe even to decide to finish inflicting the pain himself. The touch recedes, but pain does not come. Instead, there's a haughty command that brings a surge of shock and relief so strong that his body unwillingly slumps to the ground.

"Take him back to his Room."

The disappointment in Karl's voice is palpable. "But-"

"I gave you an order. Are you questioning me?"

It's barely more than a snarl. 

"Never."

Notes:

Awe. See? Mercy.

He's not so bad.

Chapter 12: Haven’t You Found Me?

Summary:

There’s no brainwashing going on here. Raph has everything under control.

Well, as much control as he can have, that is.

Which he refuses to acknowledge as none.

Ah, well. He’ll get there eventually.

Notes:

I love throwing in my own headcanons like they’re canon.

Also why am I giving myself so much character research to do? Why can’t I just write about the boys being in pain instead of basically OC-ing everyone. Yeesh.

Grab my hand

I'm drowning

I feel my heart pounding

Why haven't you found me yet?

***

"Well. That's new."

Nutjob takes hold of the cuff and lifts up his hands, examining the talons that are beginning to form. They aren't anything interesting yet, but Raph knows that they'll curve and grow sharp- enough that Raph could accidentally slice his palm open if he isn't careful. Leo learned that from experience. It's the reason that Sensei cut them when they were kids.

It became weekly habit to trim off just a bit to keep the talons in line. 

It occurs to Raph that this means he's been here for a least a week. It feels ways longer than that.

An eternity longer. 

"I assume this is natural?" 

Nutjob surveys the turtle that Karl has on his knees. Raph nods bitterly, knowing better than to refuse mad scientist any information. 

His captor drops the handcuffs and lifts his clipboard. A moment of pen on paper and then he's setting the wood to the side to snag the flexible measuring tape from the tray beside him. Raph's beyond tired of this human sticking his hands in his mouth and along his face, so he bites at his hands when he leans over, only managing to catch air. 

Nutjob looks startled, so Raph bares his teeth. Words have yet to make any impact, so he growls instead. Nutjob lowers his hands with an impatient frown. Raph doesn't know what it is about his jawline and skull that he finds so fascinating, but he wouldn't be surprised if the psycho was only doing all this to mess with him.

"Now, now. I'm almost finished. Karl?" 

Karl takes hold of the area of his throat behind his jaw, digging into the bone. He winces as his mouth is forced open, chin lifting as his back straightens in an instinctive attempt to relive the new ache. Furred fingers release him, only to seize a vice-like grip on his airway, not enough to suffocate him, but it's harder to breathe, and each swallow is distinctly uncomfortable.

Raph stills as much as possible, settling for a wary grimace. A finger traces the change in the bone and then the plastic is pressed against it. Nutjob emits a thoughtful sound. There's faint scribbling on the clipboard. 

Nutjob reaches up to adjust his face, and now he's looking directly at one of the lab's overhead lights. When Raph tries to turn away, he feels the hand shift, claws prominent against his throat, the other hand already digging into his healed shoulder as a reminder of the lengths the rabbit is willing to go to. The hand comes up to brush over scales. 

Everything about it feels invasive in ways that make his skin crawl, but he shuts his eyes to prevent blinding himself and tolerates it, unwilling to give Karl a 'good' reason to make it so much worse. 

The sooner the poking and prodding ends; the sooner he can be chucked back to his Roo-

"SHOT THROUGH THE HEART! AND YOU’RE TO BL-"

The mutants jump as loud rock shatters the silence, and a startled Karl loosens his grip on the captive. They look to Nutjob. The scientist has already pulled out his phone, scowling as he answers the call and barks, "What is it?!"

Raph and Karl exchange a set of knowing looks, well aware that whoever is interrupting is probably going to face unfortunate consequences. Then, in that very next second, Raph recalls his predicament, fists clenching in cuffs as he resumes a scathing glare. Karl copies it with a dark sneer, and Raph opens his mouth, a bitter comment in the back of his throat.

"-Wha- No! If I invited anyone I would have told you! Where are they? Where- No! Why would you- don't let them inside!"

Once again, all attention shoots Nutjob, and the normally posed scientist flattens back his hair, sputtering, "I don't care what he said! I am not paying you too- No! No, absolutely not! You are to stay on the perimeter! Stay! Yes! I'll handle it!"

He hangs up and scrolls as he paces back and forth, tapping a different number. "One job! One job! Keep guests out! Knuckle-dragging muscle is all they are! Useless! Can't believe-"

"Doc?" Karl asks quietly. Raph can feel the grip on his shoulder tightening. He peeks at him and spots the look on his face. Wait- is he-? 

"We had an agreement! They were to arrange a meeting! This was not-" Raph tears his gaze away when the call goes to voice mail and Ferrall breaks off to grit his teeth, dialing again. "Idiots! I made it perfectly clear that no one was to be in or out-"

"Uninvited guest?" Raph interrupts with a light smirk, satisfied that something isn't going Nutjob's way, and hoping to get a read on the danger. Is this going to make things worse, or could it be the break he needs to get the shell out of there?

Either way, it's a distraction. Raph might as well do his part. 

"What? Nutjob can dish ambushes, but can't take them?"

The scientist doesn't even bother to look up from the ringing phone. "Shut. Him. Up."

"Yes, sir."

Sir?

A furred hand clamps over his mouth and stops him from commenting on the uncharacteristic politeness. He's about to pull a Mikey and hack a nice glob of spit into the rabbit's palm when the lab door slams open. 

"Doc!"

He knows that voice. The spit melts back into the bottom of his mouth and he swallows uncertainly, watching as Vizioso's murderous twin bodyguards enter the room. Instead of their usual butcher knives, the twins hold sheek, black long-pistols, and Raph assumes they are of the red laser beam variety. 

Donnie always goes full fanturtle over the idea of creating an infinite source of concentrated light, but Raph is reasonably more concerned with the deadly and constantly aimed at him and his family part. 

Raph falls into his usual glare, trying not to let on that a new panic is slithering around in his guts. He knows any sudden moves will draw any guns to him in a heartbeat, and he's in no position to dodge any bursts. Unfortunately for Raph, he's only a few feet from the returning Nutjob, and the group instantly takes notice of him. 

They all freeze up, several weapons rising despite the very obvious restrained position the unforeseen danger is in. 

He willingly remains motionless as several mob henchmen cluster behind their leaders. One henchman stands next to them, holding a fellow henchman prisoner. 

After a brief hand signal from a twin, he fires the weapon pressed against his back.

The henchman who is evidently not a part of the invading group falls limply to the ground. Raph watches with wide eyes, sincerely hoping that there's a stun feature that he doesn't know about. 

Karl is completely tense behind him, a snarl low in the back of his throat, and for the first time, Raph is grateful for the constant, looming presence. The mutant rabbit may have no qualms with beating him to a pulp, but he bets that his master's not going to be a happy camper if Karl lets his new project get shot to death.

Karl might not be scared of the goons, but he's clearly wary of an angry Nutjob.

The unstable scientist in question is the first to break the silence.

"What are you buffoons doing here?!"

All gazes dart to Nutjob as he slides the phone into a pocket and strides forward, unafraid of the muzzles that veer toward him. One of the twins meets him halfway, and his brother follows suit. "Is that a muty?!"

"He's a specimen." Nutjob sneers. "My specimen."

"He's a muty." The twin that must be Tweedle Dumber repeats. "One of those freaky turtles." Raph bristles at the disgust in his tone, but the hand over his mouth keeps the heated retort from breaking loose. "First the rabbit and now a turtle? We're not tryin' to collect them! We're wiping them out!"

"What I do with my time and my resources has nothing to do with you." Nutjob vents disdainfully. "He is my subject and we are standing in my lab- Not! that any of you are supposed to be here! Do you know how this looks? Informing my guards that this is a planned meeting? How am I supposed to explain a meeting with a mob group?"

"Tell them we lied and broke in. We'd be happy to ransack the place for you." Tweedle Dumb grins and raises a hand. 

The henchman that had been at their side fires at one of the lines of colored vials. It explodes and the liquid mixed with shattered glass flies over and around the tabletop, drawing an enraged shout from the horrified scientist. 

"Out! I want these scum out of my lab before I drop the authorities a massive, anonymous tip on the location of certain weapon facilities."

The twins exchange apprehensive looks, and then Tweedle Dumber crosses his arms. "You wouldn't."

Nutjob's eyes harden. "I can erase every scrap of my involvement with a click of a button. I encourage you to continue down this path if you are truly prepared to face the consequences."

Raph knows that tone, and a shudder crawls down his spine. Both men must know it too, because they stiffen in sync, and then Tweedle Dumb caves, clenching his jaw. "Everyone out."

The goons exchange looks. After a few uncertain shrugs, they begin filing out of the room. 

The last one shuts the door behind him. Nutjob regains his eerie calm air, smoothing the flaps of his lab coat and addressing the glaring men. "Now. Would you gentlemen care to inform me of what you're doing here when we had a very clear agreement?"

"Maybe you did with the Big Man, but times are changing Doc. Or hadn't you heard?" Tweedle Dumb challenges as he deliberately steps forward. "Been too busy with your new pet? Sure haven't been picking up the phone."

"Some of us have lives outside of crime." Nutjob huffs with a subtle glance to the mutants behind them, cluing into the fact that they aren't alone. "And I'm not obligated to pick up the phone for anyone but Vizioso. But, he's imprisoned, isn't he? Left his little empire to wither away while he rots in a cell."

"Nothing withering. We're doin' just fine." Tweedle Dumber snaps unconvincingly.

All he gets in return is a disbelieving, "Hmph."

"That's not any of your concern." Tweedle Dumb insists, though Raph gets the feeling that he doesn't believe his own words. "We're here to talk business. The wiping-out-his-friends kind."

Raph feels a familiar fury rise and fester in the pit of his gut. He lurches, but Karl drags him back in place. He settles for a withering scowl. 

"Yeah!" Tweedle Dumber chimes in. "They're getting tougher, and they're finding us! Comin' out of nowhere too!"

"They're taunting us." Tweedle Dumb grumbles. "Not taking anything, not stopping any big operations- they're just beating up guys and takin' names. Rumor has it they're coming for us, just like they did Vizioso."

Just coming in to beat goons? Leo?

No way. What does he care for Vizioso's bodyguards?

...Unless he's looking for something other than those bozos.

Hopes stirs and his gaze lights up, unnoticed by those around him. Him. They're looking for him. They're trashing hideouts and scaring the suits off the mafia- just trying to track him down. Ha!

They're coming for him!

-Not that he doubted it for a second.

"I see." Another side-long glance at Raph. 

He gets the feeling that Nutjob has his theories on their real point of interest too.

"I don't see how that's my problem." Nutjob calmly steps away from the twins and heads for the table covered in liquid and glass. His ploy for control is obvious, but the twins fall for it; hook, line, and sinker. The twins sputter furiously as they trail after, but he blatantly ignores them. "My allegiances lie with the leader of this crime syndicate. Don's gone, and most of the mafia is scattered. Per your own admissions, you're dealing with a serious mutant crisis. Do you even have the appropriate funds?"

"We can pay just fine." Tweedle Dumber grits out, finger twitching over the trigger. "And the mafia has new leaders. Us."

Nutjob is silent as he pulls out two plastic gloves, causally adjusting them over each hand. The only thing that betrays his thoughts is how stiff his movements seem. 

Raph's seen Leo do the same thing when he's trying to pretend he's not on the edge of his rope, playing the stoic and wise leader.

Tweedle Dumber leans on the table to read the deceptively calm face, and Tweedle Dumb takes another look in their direction, but this time, his gaze locks on Karl. The rabbit's grip tenses, claws re-entering his shoulder, and Raph is harshly reminded that he's more than a spectator in the events. 

"I take it this is not an ill attempt at humor." 

Careful not to move his head and alert Karl to what he's doing, he squints at the lab door and considers the squad of goons that are hovering on the other side. If Ferrall's guys aren't all sacks of meat by now, he's going to have double lackeys on his shell the moment that he opens it. Even if he does somehow manage to get Karl to release him, he'll need his hands if he wants any hope of getting out of there.

His brothers are getting into trouble lookin' for him. The least he can do is return the favor.

"No one to stand in our way. Hammer's out of the picture thanks to that mutant dragon-"

Raph gives a swift, disgruntled look. They thought Kavaxisis was just some mutant? A dragon? Really? No freaky mutation can make anything shoot fire or eat souls!

"-not breaking outta the joint any time soon, we got no competition."

Raph tilts his head imperceptibly, getting a read on Karl's attention. Any trace of fear is gone, and his mouth is screwed up in a sneer. His ears twitch as he listens in; sick impatience written all over his face. 

He knows that look too well by now. If it wasn't for Raph, the hothead has no doubt that he'd be leering over bother humans like an overeager guard-dog waiting for permission to bite. 

"Just because a man could lead, does not mean that he should."

"You tryin' to say somethin', Doc?"

This is the longest either captors have taken their attention off of Raph outside the Room, and he'd be an idiot not to do something with the opportunity. His hands are useless now, but if he can just get that remote away from Karl- maybe one of the guns- then he'd stand a chance. 

If Leo was here, he'd probably say the odds of this working are, like, a million to one.

"Your tone is threatening. I don't appreciate threats, Victor." 

"You know I hate that name! He knows I hate that name!"

Heh. Good thing he's not.

Tweedle Dumb faces away, taking hold of the conversation. "We've heard the rumors, Doc. We know what they're saying."

"Who? You're going to have to be a little less vague."

Here goes nothing.

"Don't give me that. You know-"

Raph abruptly twists his head away from the furred hand and his mouth is free. Karl quickly moves to resume silencing him, and his head jerks towards the hand, completing his earlier unspoken threat to sink teeth into flesh. 

Karl shrieks, the hand on his shoulder tearing away to remove the locked jaw. Raph releases on his own and throws his body, ducking into a roll that tosses him to his feet. All eyes are on him as he swerves to face Karl and he surprises them by charging. He meets the rounded pupils with a devilish grin seconds before leaping into a spinning kick, heel meeting skull. 

He lands smoothly, sliding a few inches, and gives Karl the chance to get to his feet. 

He does not. 

Perfect.

"DON'T SHOOT!"

Raph's head swerves to Nutjob's shout and finds him smacking the long pistol in Tweedle Dumber's hands against his face. He cries out and Tweedle Dumb whirls to face them, giving Raph the opening he needs to dart to the unmoving mutant's side. He pats him down, frantically trying to figure out where he stashed the remote, blood roaring in his ears. 

"EY!" 

"Don't kill him!" 

"DID YOU JUST-?!" 

"-will make your lives pure misery-"  

"I should shoot y-!" 

"-s on stun!" 

Raph pulls it out and presses the button that he'd witnessed Karl smash once or twice, and the pressure on his wrists releases, freeing his limbs. Air rushes into his lungs when his nerves explode with a flurry of adrenaline and freedom, and he turns to the trio of villains as Tweedle Dumber frantically locks onto his target. 

"NO!" 

He dives onto all fours on pure instinct, and the laser flies right over his head. He takes off without missing a beat, and Nutjob ducks to the side before Raph can knock him down. Tweedle Dumber swings at him and he falls into a crouch, instincts taking hold as he growls. 

The sound startles his assailant and he takes advantage to pounce. The human cries out and falls backward with the unexpected weight, toppling against the table behind him. 

Raph leers over him as he struggles; the weight of his shell keeps him still. Yes! He's so tired of everyone besting him here and it's finally his turn. He's no animal and he won't be tamed and it's finally his chance to prove it!

The idiot shoves his weapon between them but Raph completely ignores it, smashing Tweedle Dumber closer to the table, right onto glass that cuts past the hopefully expensive suit. He writhes and shrieks, and Raph almost lets go- but he doesn't because that would be weakness- that's inviting more hate angry scared hurt, and all the pent-up helplessness and fear is so very convincing and blinding him to any other thought than to make him pay. 

So he claws past the white black white not white fabric to make sure the human stays put- stabbing and hurting just like he'd been stabbed and hurt-

The weapon drops from quivering hands and Raph can feel vibrations under his plastron, something deep in him demanding more than a simple disarming. He bares his teeth; the taste of blood on his tongue, but then spots a blur of black in his peripheral. It's heading towards him, so he releases his prey and drops down, narrowly avoiding a blow to the skull. 

Tweedle Dumber's abandoned weapon falls with him, and he spots Tweedle Dumb hurrying to flip his laser. 

Raph snatches it and swings, repaying the intended attack and watching him topple to the ground. He looks to the final danger just briefly, but Nutjob appears stunned, watching him as if seeing a mutant turtle for the first time. 

"Boss?!"

Raph whirls and spots the previously shut door now wide open, heart racing when he realizes that there are more goons than before. It's probably a mix of Nutjob's and the Twins', and he makes a split-second decision, abandoning the mad scientist in an attempt to take advantage of their surprise. He fires on several of the men in front, and that has the rest lifting their weapons, firing all at once. 

Nutjob's training has his impulse ready for this, but he's forced to release his new weapon to complete it. He charges to their left, ducking, rolling, and bounding, foiling their attempts to keep up and making it to the crowd before they have a chance to comprehend his plans. He tackles one of the men into the others, snagging his weapon to use as a bat and slamming the nearest goon in the head with the hilt.  

The knife proves to be almost as effective as sais, slashing past the grey and leaving trails of red.

Red is his color- his color- the color they took- so he continues to leave his mark. They're shouting and crying out as he throws them around, but he pays the noise no heed. He barely comprehends what he's doing at all, blinded by the adrenaline coursing through his veins. 

He sees the door. 

His mind clears enough for him to register the exit and he ignores the urge to continue battle, darting for it. A large man gets in his way, so he drives a blade into the goon's shoulder.

Raph dives over him as he falls, ricocheting off the pale blue wall and to the right since he knows left leads further into the facility and its torments. 

He scrambles through several halls and around corridors, looking for anything even slightly different in the carbon-copy halls, distant boots thudding behind him. All limbs skid around a corner to find a hall with an elevator at the end.

Everyone freezes. 

The exiting guards stare at him. He stares back. 

There's a shout from behind and a guard shifts his gun to aim. 

Raph snaps out of it. He charges. Finally. Finally! Escape is right there and there are only five of them! He can take them easy, and then he'll be home free! Free from the mafia and Karl and Nutjob and his insane experiments and training a-

"RAPHAEL, EVADE!"

The familiar command rings through the hall and sinks in without his consent. His vision tunnels as panic seers through him when he realizes how close he is to the dangers. He scrambles to stop before he can touch them- evade-evade-EVADE- skidding to the side and barreling through an open door. 

The room is unfamiliar; his surroundings are dark; his head and shoulders ache, but he did it. It was a close call, so close, too close, but he evaded and he didn't touch and he avoided the men and the-

Terror replaces relief as he recalls his derailed goal, spinning around to find his exit blocked by masked goons all aiming for him. 

A frantic hiss fills the air and then his cuffs suddenly lock underneath him. He topples onto his side, breathing heavily as he struggles to separate his limbs, and then finds a long shadow blocking the faint light that lets him see. 

He looks up with his heart in his throat and finds Nutjob with his back to him, an arm swiping the air. "No one shoots him or so help me-!" 

The threat hangs in the air, and then weapons lower. Nutjob waits, and then breathlessly nods his approval. He turns, digging into one of his pockets as he crouches at his prisoner's side. Raph struggles to raise himself, trying to get into a better defensive position, but Nutjob grasps his chin and tilts his head. Raph barely catches the needle out of the corner of his eyes. 

A soft whine hides behind his demand. "Don't- don't you-!" 

"This won't hurt." Ferrall injects it into Raph's neck. 

He pulls back the needle and Raph entirely expects intolerable pain, but instead, he feels oddly lightheaded, panting as gently Ferrall sets his head down. His body slumps onto his arms, which awkwardly prop him so that he can still see Ferrall as he gets back to his feet, addressing the men in the doorway.

A few new ones had appeared. The tear on a goon's shoulder tells him that they may have been from the previous mob. "I want Karl woken up and brought to me. Now."

A lacky salutes him before taking off down the hall, and the rest of the goons eye Raph warily.

They snap to attention when Ferrall states, "All personnel are to take the interlopers from the lab and to a briefing room. Do whatever is necessary and report back to me. Oh- and I want confirmation that no security has entered the premises. Understood? Now move!"

Several nods and then the men take off down the hall, apparently relieved to get as far from them as possible. Raph can still taste the liquidy copper on his teeth, shuddering at the realization of how maliciously Karl is going to punish him for practically taking a bite out of him.

He's worse than dead. His brothers will be lucky to find anything left to save.

A whimper slips into open air. He was so close...

The lights come on and Raph has the urge to flinch. His body doesn't react, and he can only faintly feel his limbs, panic swirling as he tries to figure out what Ferrall did to paralyze him. The mad scientist kneels next to him, pushing against his shoulder and knocking him onto his carapace. 

He wants to struggle, but his body remains unmoving, a faint drowsy feeling creeping into the back of his mind. Ferrall lifts his head, opening his mouth and examining inside of it, thoughtful gaze meeting his own. "You are certainly something, aren't you? And here I'd almost given up on you. But that little show in there..."

He shakes his head, almost in awe. "It is no wonder a man's primal fear of beasts has traveled over to mutants."

He doesn't realize that his fear must have been palpable until Nutjob coolly reassures, "I will not punish you for your arrogance. Not this time, at least. Not only have I gained valuable information, but you've unknowingly helped prove a point to those nitwits that I have been drilling in for months. Mutants are not pests. They are a danger. An infestation. One that I alone have the power to contain." 

His attention has gone distant for a moment; an ominous confidence in his tone, but Raph barely understands it, most of his energy on fighting to stay awake. 

"I'll admit you had me worried for a moment. All that research and I thought I'd chosen wrong." His eyes are sharp with interest as he examines the half-lidded eyes. "You were a good choice, Raphael. No, I will not punish you for assisting me to the next step."

Raph's brain feels like sludge. Cho-chose h-him? No, he wanted... They wanted... 

 "However, I cannot work properly with the Mafia breathing down my neck. Likewise, I need to do something about the other turtles. If they get wind of me, they could look in the right place and foil everything. I will not allow it."

His mouth is shut, but the careful pressure remains on his chin. His consciousness flickers, or maybe that's just his eyelids. No, no- leave them alo- alone- he can't- ca-an- don't-

"Rest now, Raphael. I will handle the complications. All one needs is the right stone..." 

 

Notes:

Raph seems aptly brainwashed. Time to see what the others are up to.

“There will definitely not be anything traumatic incoming,” I say with the most innocent and convincing of smiles.

Chapter 13: Desperate

Summary:

Leo goes looking for their brother and finds him.

…Kinda.

(Welcome back to our regular scheduled trauma! Only gets worse from here folks!)

Notes:

This chapter fought me every inch of the way.

You better give me space, I'm protective

My adrenaline spikes when I'm threatened

And if you stay in my way, I'm aggressive

'Cause when there's no exit, 

I'll kill when I'm desperate

***

Shadows descend upon a railed rooftop, dropping on the unsuspecting figures watching the streets below. One only gets a brief glimpse of a white skull before he's knocked over the head, hitting the roof as his partner takes aim. Her weapon leaves her hand with the force of the wood that slams her hands, spinning in surprise in time to catch the fist flying for her nose. She lands in a heap, unaware of the others that receive the same treatment, taken down by impossibly swift streaks of green and a small, black object that flies across the rooftops like it bears a mind of its own. 

Each mark is disarmed, even the two guards had forsaken their posts to have a low-toned conversation, unaware of a warrior in blue and gray until their skulls are bashed together. Uncaring of their state after that, the Salamandrian continues onward to catch up with the group. 

Leo waits until everyone is accounted for to mentally move on to the next phase.

He taps his t-phone as April begins fiddling with a vent cover, bringing it to his mouth. 

"Everyone ready?"

Gruff and casual voices chime in. 

"In position." 

"Waiting on you slow-pokes." 

Leo waits a moment and then narrows his eyes. "Donatello."

A heavy sigh from the turtle positioned back at the lair. "Yes. I have eyes inside." 

"Good." He glances back at his team, and April nods confirmation from where she stands near Casey and Mikey.

Mona, who had volunteers to go with his team despite the Mutanimal's offer, adjusts her hilt impatiently, waiting for the cue to head into the facility of grey walls and a hopefully kidnapped boyfriend.

"And we're clear?"

"You're clear." 

"Then we're headed in." Leo alerts Karai's team and the Mutanimals. "Dial if you see him so everyone can reign in on your positions."

"We know how this works, Leo." Shini speaks from Karai's line, a tease in her voice. 

Leo ignores her and ends the call to the group line that Donnie had set up, motioning for them to enter. The humans slide in first, but Mona is not far behind. Mikey flashes his eldest brother a confident grin before diving in after, and the leader lets out a soft breath, releasing some of the pent up nerves. 

He'd been hopeful in the beginning, but that naive outlook was fraying with every New York facility that comes up in the clear. There were even a few labs connected to the Mafia, funded by some unnamed donor, but those were all dead ends. No mutant turtle files, samples, or even rumors passing around those halls. None of the goons or scientists knew anything about a kidnapped turtle, or where the Fucli twins might be hiding.

They have no leads and Leo hates the uncertainty with every bone in his body.

Even a false lead would be better than knowing nothing. A false lead would lead them somewhere. Hitting mafia labs, warehouses, and other facilities at random for days straight was beginning to feel like a waste. Not that he'd stop, as long as Raph is out there somewhere...

Leo closes his eyes, taking calculated breaths. The weight in his lungs only increases, spreading from his chest and over his bones, trying to bury him under the burden of helplessness. He forces them back open, taking in the city lights in the distance, inflating his lungs with crisp air. He can't so much as crack, not yet. He needs to hold on to hope, keep his priorities straight, and bring his brother home. That's what a Sensei would do.

It's what his father would have done. 

Then again, Splinter might have found him by now.

He brings his blade up, thumb brushing delicately over the hilt, studying his reflection. His voice comes out in a whisper, weaker than he would prefer. "Please, Sensei. Help me find him."

His father doesn't respond, but Leo doesn't really expect him to. 

His phone rings. Leo answers on impulse.

"Leo?"

Donnie must have noticed his hesitation.

Right. The mission.

Leo places a hand on the top of the vent and sets a foot on the entrance, lifting the phone to his mouth and doing a final scan of the rooftop. "Still here. Moving out."

With that, he slides down. We're coming, brother.

The others have already begun combing the hall when he drops to the floor. He makes his way to their side, glancing at the camera near one of the doorways. It stares right back at him, and he lifts the t-phone. "Where too?" 

"I can see the halls. There are several rooms lower down that don't have cameras. Or if they do, they aren't connected to the security server." Donnie reports as typing filters through. "Wha- ACCESS DENIED?! COME ON!"

Leo winces as Casey facepalms. "...Don?"

"Oh. Sorry. No dice." Donnie sounds distracted, but he's not complaining anymore, so Leo doesn't call him out on it. He waves for the team to head to the elevator. "You find a way in. I'm going to see if I can break this firewall."

"Find a way in, how?" Leo questions before his brainy brother can get distracted with the new intellectual challenge. 

"Code. Mmmm." He hums and then gets lost in silence. 

Leo has no idea if that means that he needs a code or if he's lost in a world of 1s and 0s. He rolls his eyes and joins his team in the elevator as April helps Casey through the snatch on the roof. He waits for the doors to close and then taps a button for the next floor under ground level. He hoists himself after them, slipping the cover back in place. 

There's muffled speech from his t-phone, so Leo quickly lifts it. "Repeat?"

"8-4-3-6-3-2-6." Donnie announces confidently. Leo waits for some kind of instruction or explanation to go along with this random string of numbers, but it doesn't come. 

"And that means something to me becaaauuuse..?"

"It's the code for the rooms. I saw two guys use it on separate floors. I can't believe they actually use the same code for each room! Lame, right?"

"I'd go more with convenient. For both sides." Leo smirks and then realizes that he doesn't have a clue what numbers Donnie'd listed anymore. "Hey, Mikey!"

Mikey glances over and he tosses the t-phone. "Ask him to give you the code."

"Code?" Mikey repeats blankly as he puts the phone to his ear. Donnie must assume the question is for him, because the youngest's face suddenly lights up in understanding, "Eightfourthreesixthreetwosix- got it!" 

He sings it out with a random tune and then tosses the phone back. Leo catches it as the elevator comes to a stop, relieved that there were no interruptions to their ride. Mona removes the hatch lid, and the others slip through as Donnie asks, "Hey, you have the EMPs?"

"I handed them off to Mikey." 

"You handed Mikey EMPs."

"All he has to do is push a button." Leo huffs dryly as he hops down. "Even he can manage that." 

"I wish I could see those babies in action." Donnie sighs wistfully and Leo fondly shakes his head. "You hack those camera feeds yet?"

"Uh- working on it!"

Leo follows his team down the hall. A few guards are knocked out and relieved of weapons and walkie-talkies. As Leo chucks the latest security duo into one of the rooms, April announces, "This door has a keypad!"

"Mikey?" 

His little brother reaches around her, humming the random tune from the elevator and punching in the numbers. It beeps happily and opens. April heads in, and Leo decides, "Casey, with her. Come for Mikey when you're done. Mona?" He glances at her. "With me. Full stealth, people."

They begin the usual routine and comb the floors, but the minutes tick by like hours and Leo can see Mona's patience wearing just as thin as his. Empty, empty, empty, empty- everything is always empty- come on, Raph- 

He watches her slice through a line of weapons with a frustrated cry and says nothing, nodding towards the door when she looks up at him, fury dancing behind the facade of control. He can understand the desperation under the fury, but he doesn't allow himself to lash out the same way.

Leo steps over the threshold and into the hall, removing himself from her sight.

He gives her a moment, leaning his carapace against the wall, arms loose at his side. Where are you?

"Leo?" 

He puts away his weapons at the urgency in Donnie's tone, raising the phone. "What is it?"

"The Fulci twins are here. Bottom most floor." Donnie reports. "I can't get through those firewalls. Whoever set these up really knows their tech."

Mona exits the room and moves over to another elevator, staring him down. She looks calmer than she had before, so Leo gestures her down the hall. 

"Then we regroup." Mona nods and takes off in a stride to collect the rest of their team. Leo follows after. "The Twins have to know where Raph is being kept, right? Whether or not he's here, they'd be able to tell us. And considering how freaked they get around mutants, a little well-placed threats and we'll get the information in no time."

"Try and figure out who the new leader is." Donnie offers as the keypad clicks in the background. "If he's kidnapping mutants and targeting our family, a name would be a good start to figuring him out."

"Good call." 

Leo catches up to his team and April asks, "What's going on?"

"Just head straight down. I'll alert you when you reach the door." 

Leo doesn't bother muting Donnie as he replies, "The Fulci twins are here. Donnie caught them on the camera, so we're heading after."

"And we're certain they know the location of Raphael?" Mona asks skeptically, clearly hesitant to open herself to this hope, but willing to follow his lead. "Would it not be more prudent to continue the search?"

"We can't know anything for certain." Leo admits reluctantly. "But they're the best lead we got."

"Works for me." April smiles as Mikey flashes an encouraging thumbs up. 

Casey grins, "Let's go knock some heads!"

Leo takes off and they accept it as their cue to follow. He directs them to the elevator, but doesn't wait for it to come back to take them down, grabbing the cable and dropping. He reaches the bottom a few paces before them, but Mikey lands next to him as he shoves against the door. It groans in argument before it gives way to the added strength of both brothers. 

They stop in the hall as Donnie warns, "Mutant hunters, directly ahead."

A blast rings out and Leo pulls out his tantos, but Mikey beats him to it, leapfrogging over his carapace to tackle the two men. 

Arms catch necks before they hit the ground, and Mikey snags the weapons, using one to bunt the face of the hunter that fails to sneak up from behind and tossing the other to Leo. The leader catches it and breaks it over his knee, stopping by his younger brother and raising an eye ridge expectantly, motioning for him to hand it over.

"But I could do some serious damage!" Mikey pleads earnestly, hugging the weapon and unknowingly pointing the muzzle under his skull. 

"Yeah, to more than the bad guys." Leo scolds as he swipes it. 

Mikey pouts as Leo puts it out of commission. The others catch up as their leader questions, "Where too, Donnie?"

"I'd say four doors on the other side."

Leo turns and counts the doors, standing in front of the estimated doorway and receiving an approving, "That's it."

"You're sure?"

"One hundred percent."

"A'right, here's the plan." Leo makes eye contact with each of them before announcing, "Donnie can't break that firewall-"

"I'm bypassiiing."

"-not a dig; just a statement." Leo corrects himself and waits to see if Donnie'll chime in again. When he only hears a faint grumble, he continues, "So we don't know what's waiting over there. Casey, Mikey, Mona, draw their fire; take out the goons. April and I'll lock down the twins."

"Aw, man!" Casey whines. "But I wanted to knock the information out of those dweebs who took Raph! And maybe some stuffing too!"

Leo can tell by the fire in Mona's gaze that she feels the same. His decision only hardens. 

"Exactly why I'm leaving Mikey in charge." Mikey's eyes light up and the rest of the group stares at him like he's lost his mind. He shrugs unapologetically. It's not like he has any other brothers here. "I only have so many options. Besides, distraction is his specialty."

"Yeah boi!" Mikey proclaims to the world with a distinct lack of self-awareness, proving how natural drawing attention to himself is. "Best on the field!" 

"That bites!" Casey huffs, more out of jealousy than actual anger. Mikey flashes him a smug grin as he props himself on his older brother's shoulder. Mona surveys Leo with uncertainty. "Are you sure this is the right call?"

"I'm sure." Their gazes lock for a long moment, and then Mona looks away. April takes advantage of the silence, "I'm still not getting a good feeling about this."

Leo nods, "Acknowledged. But if you have nothing more to go on, then I'm not leaving here without a lead to Raphael. Mikey?"

April frowns but doesn't offer anything else, so Mikey straightens and taps in the code. Leo turns down the volume on his t-phone, leaving it on vibrate in case the other group gets in touch. The door beeps, and the leader and psychic step back.

"Go."

"RAKA-RAKA!" "GOONGALAAA!" "BOOYAKASHA!"

Mikey pulls out his chucks and kicks the door open, dashing in as Mona and Casey follow his lead. The two give them a second, and when a long stretch of silence follows, exchange puzzled looks and peek in.

The room is empty. 

Void of life, filled to the brim with all kinds of junk, ranging from cheapo-looking toys to expensive-appearing tech. They creep forward warily, but there aren't many places for grown men to duck. Everything seems to line the walls or to have gotten chucked in a pile.

"Are we sure it's this room?" Casey voices what they're all thinking and Leo takes a moment to sort through the number of possibilities. Donnie being wrong isn't top ten. "April, can you feel anyone else nearby?"

April closes her eyes, drawing a hand to her forehead. "Mmmm.. I feel a bunch of people, but..." She crouches down, blindly reaching and then laying her palm against the floor. A beat of silence. "I sense something underneath us... Angry. Scared." She looks up decidedly. "They know we're here."

"But there are no more floors." Mona points out. "Is that not what the blueprints showed?"

Leo cups his chin. "When me and Don were in the restaurant, Visioso gassed the place and escaped through a secret door. This may be more of a bunker than an exit if they're sticking around. Look for a button or a crack in the wallpaper."

He walks over to the other end of the room and pushes some paintings to the side, feeling the back of the wall. The others begin searching, and he can hear things getting shoved and shuffled behind him. 

Casey scrutinizes a necklace. "You think these diamonds are real?"

"I bet everything is a forgery or stolen." April warns as she pulls experimentally on some books. "Anything you pocket would make you just as much a thief as the Mafia."

"Kidnappers. Counterfeiters. Liars. Cowards. Thieves." Mona feels along a bare wall. "Your people sink lower and lower the more I hear of your race. How does one single-handedly manage to commit every dishonorable act in the known universe?"

"There has to be something humans haven't done." Casey defends. "We're not all bad."

"Yet the bad seems to outweigh the good."

"Does not!"

Leo and Mikey exchange looks. There's skepticism in Leo's gaze so Mikey grins and taps the vein in his wrist. Leo deadpans as his younger brother mimics building a block tower. Their leader rolls his eyes in consent and looks away, so Mikey takes it as his cue to keep working.

None of the others notice, as April had taken the floor and meaningfully offered, "Some humans do the wrong thing for the right reasons. And other humans are misunderstood or desperate."

"No amount of desperation would cause me to stoop to such levels. I would rather die than break my honor." The Salamandrian knocks a fist against her suit over her heart

April regards her thoughtfully. "Some things are more important than honor."

She earns an affronted look, and fills in, "Like the lives of people we love?"

Mona's mouth opens and shuts, a tight frown forming as they lock gazes, but they snap to reality when a cry cuts through the air.

Leo whirls and finds Mikey practically drooling over a section of VHS tapes, voice as high as it can go as he waves one. "I KNEW THERE HAD TO BE ANOTHER MOVIE! HA!"

The puzzled leader is obviously being addressed so he heads over and states, "Mikey, we've been over this one too many-"

"LOOK!" The tape is waggled in his face, and annoyance becomes apparent as Leo swipes it from his hand, momentarily catching the cover. "We're not here to look at movi- wait, what's The Acidic Alien Aftereffect?"

"A movie we haven't seen yet!" Mikey gushes. "Told ya one was out there!"

"You're kidding!" Leo scans the back cover as Casey looks over his shoulder. "Aw, wicked!"

Leo's mouth falls open. "After getting swallowed into the belly of the beast... This has to be it, right? That makes so much more sense! I can't believe I actually thought-"

"Leo." April asks with a slight air of impatience. "The mission?"

"Hmm?" Leo looks up and spots the exasperated girls. Understands slowly dawns as he lowers the tape. "Oh. Oh! Heh- right. Yes." He clears his throat into his fist. "Focus. I'm focused."

He starts to head back to his area and Mona interrupts. "Leonardo. The tape?"

"The tape-" Leo cuts himself off and shrinks a bit, stepping back to the shelf. "Right."

He sets it back down delicately, lingering next to his younger brother and then resigning himself to continuing the search. The females turn away, and Mikey looks between them and the tape, silently at war. 

Casey snatches it from the shelf, and he decides.

He goes to grab it back and Casey stumbles back in surprise, motioning for him to very clearly knock it off.

Mikey ignores this and lunges for it, but Casey palms his face and shoves him back, stubbornly holding it just out of reach. The ninja struggles before coming to his senses, and he does what he's done a million times over in the dojo, pulling away to slip behind him and then grab the outstretched arm. In the time it takes for the vigilante to realize that he'd moved, Mikey'd taken the tape and flipped him over his shoulder, straightening triumphantly once he'd gone.

He hears Casey hit the shelf, but doesn't bother turning until a very frustrated "Mikey!" is broadcast in his direction. He faces the brother with hands on his hips as a dizzy Casey rubs his head, realizing he doesn't look very happy. "What? He was gonna take the tape!"

Now all gazes shift to the vigilante. April scowls, "Casey, it's probably pirated!"

"I know, but-!" Casey grabs some of the junk from the floor, shoving it into the shelving as he readies to argue his case.

His hand knocks against a rock-like statue of a five-pointed star. It falls over, and at the same moment, the wall cracks open to his left, revealing a long stairway. He peeks inside and then over at the team, finding wide eyes more interested in his discovery than his deeds.

He jumps the change in discussion. "Tada!"

"Finally!" A blur of Leo flies past him and down with Mikey at his heels, neither ninja seeming to touch the stairs.

Leo reaches the end of the stairway with swords in hand, and is introduced to a long room dotted with Mafia. There's a table in the middle of it, but no signs of a hot tempered turtle. His heart sinks a bit, but he doesn't dwell on the misplaced hope, scanning the crowd. Mikey stops by his side, tensing as the goons take aim.

Among the grays and blacks, he locks onto his targets.

"You're up." Leo mutters under his breath, barely conscious of the rest of the group behind them.

 Mikey smirks, "Like a turtle do."

Leo readies his stance. "Let's move."

"BOOYAKASHA!"

In a flurry of motion, the brothers separate. 

Mikey charges directly for the crowd and Leo darts for the edge of the room, letting the others take the blunt of the attention. He expects a few of the Mafia members to take notice of him, but he relieves them of their weapons and knocks them out without breaking stride, fully aware of the tesson that bounces like a pin-ball around him, lending appreciated assistance. 

There's a flash of panic shared before the twins compose themselves and steady their guns, apparently taking his family as a serious enough threat to use more than butcher knives. 

Leo already knows that they have a deep-seated hatred driven by fear, but Donnie's past actions must have made their threat levels all the more apparent. His team's recent invasion of multiple facilities should be driving home the fact that they have nowhere to hide.

Good. Maybe I can convince them that it'll be easier for everyone if they give us Raph.

Laser blasts seer through the air and Leo borrows a chair, flinging it between the twins. They cry out and duck to the side, allowing him the opening to tackle one, grabbing a handful of suit and hoisting him up, knocking him into the wall.

Blade poised over throat, Leo lets his third eyelid flick down, offering a low growl to get his message across. "What did you do with my brother?"

"Nothin'! I didn't do nothin'!"

Once upon a time, the fear in his eyes might have made Leo let up, but all he can imagine is that exact same terror in his little brother's gaze. His chest squeezes in worry, liquid fury pumping from his racing heart and through his veins. The mafia threw away any chance for pity the moment they put targets on their backs. The moment they took his brother.

He brings the blade closer to rest against skin, "Where is he?"

"You kill me and that freak'll pay for it!"

It's clearly a frantic gamble for freedom, but Leo only sees red.

"Who says I'm going to kill you?" He releases his prisoner and knees him hard in the gut as he goes down, grasping his arm and slamming him into the wall. His prey doubles over, and Leo throws him into his earlier position, adjusting the blade so it rests on his shoulder, icy glare unforgiving. "I want my brother."

"I don't-!"

The blade bypasses the suit, and the enemy gasps when it slices skin. It's barely deeper than a papercut, but it gets the point across. "I'm not going to ask you again-"

"Vic!"

Leo snaps towards the voice and finds April restraining Vinnie against the wall nearby, her hand outstretched and his body stalk-still. 

The kunoichi notices, "They're outnumbered, Leo!"

He looks over his shoulder and his eyes dart to his brother as Mikey barely dodges a knife to the skull, stumbling a bit when a mafia goon shoves against his shell. Casey had a goon on top of him in some impromptu wrestling match and Mona seems to be holding her own fairly well, but if an intervention doesn't happen soon, they were sure to leave a mix of momentarily and permanently unconscious bodies.

Breathe, Leo. Focus on your team, not your anger. Concentrate.

The anger doesn't quite drain, but he feels some control return. He faces his captive, keeping his face unreadable. "Call off your men or I take your arm."

Leo really doesn't want to learn what it feels like to slice through bone, so he's relieved when the panicked man shouts, "Stop! Lower your guns! Lower the guns!"

"Vic-!"

His frantic twin will not hear it, "Shut up!"

With a set of uncertain looks to the mutants, humans, and alien, the weapons are lowered. The guy on Casey doesn't drop the blade, but Casey knees him in the crotch, and he goes down swiftly. The vigilante makes quick work of him and then kicks away the knife, turning to survey the room. 

Now, all eyes are on the twins and their captors. 

"Team players. Good for you." Leo remarks as he faces Vinnie. "I want my brother's location."

"What makes you think we know?" Vinnie demands with an admirable but weak brave front. 

"Rumor has it you're trying to claim the mafia in Visioso's absense." Leo narrows his gaze. "Which means your goons took our brother."

"We don't have him!" 

"They're telling the truth." Leo glances at their human lie detector. April frowns, studying her captive. "But they're also keeping something from us."

"I don't need both of you to finish this interrogation." Leo challenges as he let his blade nip into a little more skin. 

"Wait- wait- wait-!" Vic pleads as his voice goes tight. "If you promise not to kill us, we'll tell you!"

"We don't make deals with muties!" Vinnie argues furiously, but Vic glares right back, appearing beyond tired of his attitude. "Do you want them to eat us?"

"Eat you?" Mikey spawns at Leo's side. "Dude, we're strictly pizza-terrians."

"You should be more worried about where we'll chuck the body when we're finished with you." Leo growls in a low tone, trying to reclaim some of the intimidation factor that his little brother is unknowingly spoiling. Mikey whistles. "Ominous."

The leader in blue can't help the small smirk. "Thanks."

Vic looks between them, growing paler by the second. Ha! He's killing at this interrogation thing. 

Metaphorically, obviously.

"Now..." He tilts the tanto to emphasize it's continued life-threatening existence. "What was that about a deal?"

"You want information. We stay alive." Vic breathes. "That's it."

"Hmmm." Leo pretends to consider it. "Mikey?" 

His younger brother crosses his arms, tone more serious. "Works for me."

"Perfect." Leo releases him and steps back. "Tell us what you know."

"Vinnie first." Vic states hesitantly. "Then the information."

"Deals a deal." 

April sets him to the ground and he immediately heads over to his twin. Vic brushes off his suit, steadying his shaky hands. "You're not going to like what I have to say." 

Leo senses Mikey stiffen beside him. "Tell me anyway."

"We didn't take him. Another guy did. Specilizes in mutants." Vic is obviously trying to keep the information vague, which is pointless considering Leo's going to have a few personal words with this mutant specialist about targeting any kind of mutant, much less his brothers. "We didn't know his plans. Doc's like a freelancer. Does what he wants. When we went to check up on him, we found him with the muty."

"Where?" Leo snaps impatiently. "Where was he?"

"Was Raph okay?" Mikey asks at the same time. 

"Doesn't matter." Vinnie states simply, pushing his brother and taking the spotlight. "He's dead."

Leo's breath catches. 

The room explodes in a flurry of cries, all tumbling over one another. The whirlwind of denial festering in his chest takes form in the voices of his companions as a wave of shouts rises around him. The very edge of his gaze catches the red that moves through his peripheral, but when he looks, it's gone.

Leo blinks, shaking his head, refocusing on the present.

"No way!"

"DECEPTIVE COWARDLY HUMANS-!"

"Just tell us where he is!"

Leo looks at April when her voice doesn't join the static of screams. Her face is stricken with a slow-sinking horror and their eyes lock. He's lying. He's lying. Not again, not now. He has to be. Right? It's all lies and they're gonna find him.

She looks back at them. Leo copies methodically.

"Oh, yeah?" Vinnie responds to someone's shout, seeming to grow more confident. He flips a pocket knife from his pocket. Leo knows that he should react at the revelation of a blade, but he only watches as he grabs Vic's sliced sleeve. He slices it and tears at the fabric. 

There are bandages underneath, pealing apart from the wounds Leo's made, and Vinnie does away with the medical shield as well. There are sharp punctures along Vic's arm, two on one side and a third on the other, positioned exactly like a mutant three-fingered hand. 

"That thing clawed away at my brother. Hissing and growling- probably was going to eat him." Vinnie spins the knife. "Tried to escape. Almost made it out, so Doc ended the experiment." 

No.

Leo's mouth opens, but no sound escapes.

A smug grin forms as their horror grows. Vinnie places a hand in his pocket and it comes out in a fist. "Doc's not a fan of his projects getting out of hand, and that one was already trouble. We tried to warn him. Freaks don't make good pets."

"Stop it!"

"Liars!"

"I outta-!" 

"Don't believe him?" Vic chimes in as Vinnie tosses something small and tan. "We got a little souvenir for our troubles. Have at it." 

A blade hits the ground as Leo's hand comes up on its own accord. 

He knows what it is- sees it- recognizes it- fears it- before it hits his palm. 

His fingers close, bringing it down as Mikey leans closer. 

He opens his fist. 

Leo can't believe it. He doesn't understand it. It can't be real, yet it's tangible. 

It hard, tan, and fits snugly in his palm. The edges are smooth until they reach the jagged crack of half an electric bolt. It cuts into him when he closes his fist again. His chest burns. His eyes sting. He wants to throw up.

There's another explanation. There has to be. They're lying. He's okay. I can get him. I can save him.

"April?" Mikey's upset, squeezing his arm. 

There's shouting again. Shouting- yelling- reaching- 

He swallows thickly, focusing past the static and on April. His eyes widen, watery gaze locked on the figure that stands inches behind, and solemn brown eyes stare back. Leo starts to move, to go to him, but his little brother holds tight. He wants to call out, but all that leaves open mouth is the little air that he has left.

His father faces April. Leo does the same. 

She inhales. Glossy eyes dart about the room before she steels her shoulders. 

April, please.

"They're telling the truth."

Her voice shakes, like his hands. Shouting- yelling- reaching- falling- falling-

He's been released. Mikey's upset and scared, so scared, he's terrified- help him- they have to get there. He has to get there in time- has to be there in time wasn't there in time isn't there in time nothing he can do-

His grip tightens over the blade that isn't his, will never truly be his, and the piece of shell that he holds close to his heart. He looks at his father and finds that he's closed the distance. Splinter removes a hand from behind his back, red fabric sitting innocently in his open palm.

Leo stares, uncomprehending, as voices filter around him. He studies the red mask that sits without a bearer, and the blade slips from his hand. There's a muffled clatter, present but oh-so far away. He reaches out, but his father retracts it. 

Splinter brings it up, mimicking Leo’s placement over his chest.

Leo’s hand freezes in it’s motions, scanning the sympathetic expression until it hits him what he'd asked not so long ago.

His eyes widen, horror demolishing any trace of hope. 

No! That's not what I- I was going to find him! ME! 

He reaches out to grasp the fabric, desperate to get his father to understand his true meaning, to return his brother to the mortal plane, to them where he belongs- but his hand passes right through air.

There’s contact on the back of his shell and he whirls, smacking it away to begin his search, stumbling back to get a better view of the room.

He wants to call out for him- to beg him to return. His father always came when he called, allowing him to be dependent until Leo grew to prideful to request it.

He wants to scream, but the breaths won’t come. 

Once again, Leo is silent when he shouldn't have been, and just like in his nightmares, he's too late. 

He's gone he's gone again again he's gone too late too late always too late-

The room is a buzzing cascade of everything and he can't breathe under it all.

All he knows is that he needs to find his father and he can't do that if he can't function. The ache that had descended into a dull throb pounds against him, threatening to knock him off his feet, or drag him to his knees where he belongs, weak and useless every time he tries. 

Stop him stop him save him too late fix this fix this-

"It was his FATE! HIS DESTINY!"

Leo's head snaps like a whip, eyes training on the only thing of clarity; the monster across from him.

Shredder just stands there, huge and looming and smug and impossibly strong and everything floods down on him at once, a familiar hatred taking flame because he took him- He did this he took him took him took him killed him kill him-

A hiss cuts from his throat and then he's moving. 

He's moving and he's running and he's raising his sword and someone's screaming and he's going to end this he isn't going to lose anyone else he'll fix this he's not scared he's not he's not no one else no one else no one no one no-

His blade slams the wall where the veined chest should be, barely missing the skull of the real man that would have been splattered into the remains of brain and bone. An unfamiliar scream splits the air as he staggers back, ignoring the way that his gut clenches at the wrongness of something, certain that he knows what the wrong is.

His pathetic arms tremble from the force of his blow on concrete, tears blurring his vision. Leo uses his wraps to push them away, scanning the perimeter for the murderer in their mists, unable to locate the monster of a mutant. 

He roars out his frustration, blade slicing through the air. He was right there- right there- he was just there just there where did he go-

"FIRE! FIRE FIRE FIRE!"

"LEO!" 

He's thrown to the ground and held in place, panic clawing at his throat. He moves to strike but his hand is caught, a hiss clawing free until he realizes that it's Mikey and he's scared.

His eyes are watery but impossibly hard, staring down at him as if he's a stranger. 

He's talking but the words have no meaning behind the static. 

Leo feel horrible. He wants to say something- wants to reassure him or hold him close to seal the aching hole in his chest, but he can't think past the static and the pressure on his throat is relentless. He can't afford to be this weak- there's still danger out there and everything is wrong and they need to stop Shredder.

He heaves in breaths to remind himself that he can breathe and it's all in his head as he looks around, finding April near their side and dots of red bouncing off nothing and deflecting the opposite direction.  

Subtle movement and Leo's gaze darts back to the new threat- oh, Mikey's still over him. 

He doesn't register that he's been released or that his body is sitting up. Mikey disappears and then appears before Leo can acknowledge him as missing, slipping the blade from his hands. He has two now, reaching around him to put their father's tantos where they belong, safely tucked away. 

His hand is taken and he's jerked to his feet. 

Leo takes the first step and the static breaks. 

"-gotta go!"

Go go go- go where? Where? Where's- where- where's- Sensei- father- Shredder- Raph- RAPH- 

"Raph." He whispers, clinging to the name, to the shell in his hand. "Raph."

I didn't mean too. I didn't mean-

I'm so sorry.

He looks up as Mikey flings several ninja stars into the distance. 

Casey's screaming. April's tesson is moving faster than he's ever seen it.

There's blood on Mona's scales as she throws a body.

Oh. The mission. 

They're in the mafia bunker and they need to get out. They're surrounded at all sides and they need an exit before they end up captives too. His youngest brother doesn't know what to do. There's something in the hand that isn't tightly grasping his, and Leo realizes that it's the best out that they're gonna get. 

He tightens his hold possessively because he'll die before someone else takes away the brothers that he has left.

His mouth moves and his throat works in tandem. "Do it."

Mikey glances back at him, scanning his face, and then hits the button.

Everything goes black, their t-phones pop, and the silence is deafening. 

The room erupts into chaos. 

Mikey tugs him forward.

"RETREAT!"

Notes:

Oopsy. My hand slipped.

Chapter 14: Hurts Like Hell

Summary:

Things are pretty bad rn. They couldn’t possibly get worse, now, could they?

Notes:

Time to investigate the unseen half of the previous chapter :)

I loved 

And I loved 

And I lost you

And it hurts like hell

***

This is literally the worst.

Donnie flicks the globe sitting to the right of his computer, leaning a bit further into his palm. The silence in the lair is deafening and his boredom is immeasurable. He has half a mind to pull a Mikey and start irritating their impossibly inconsiderate brother with the usual 'how much longer?'s or 'are you there yet?'s that Mikey used on them when he was bored.

It grates on their nerves to no end, so he knows it would work...

...But Leo would know he's doing it on purpose and that would just make him less likely to let him attend the next mission.

Rockwell has already deemed him more or less out of serious danger. No need to jinx his chances prematurely.

He wonders how Sensei managed it. How he managed to keep his cool knowing his family was out in the field. How he didn't smother himself in worry. How he could stand not knowing what was going down at that exact moment as the unease settles into the pit of his gut. How he always seemed so composed whenever he greeted them home, poking questions about their missions that often went unanswered.

Donnie lowers his finger, watching the globe spin. How often did they do that?

Dismiss him out of turn because of the importance of a mission. Ignore his questions because they were seen as an attack on their ideas instead of an offering to help. They never listened unless he didn't allow them a chance to walk away, or had to speak over them...

Though, that mainly started after their fifteenth mutation day and their new freedom. He wasn't hovering behind their shells anymore. They could make their own choices. So they took advantage. He gave them independence and they took it in stride.

He swallows a lump.

Did he ever regret it? Letting them go up?

A soft sigh as he stops the globe and sits back in his chair.

You're doing it again. Get a hold of yourself, Donatello. Your brother is missing. Focus on that.

"Everyone ready?"

Donnie jolts in his seat and realizes that Leo must have queued into the group frequency. There's a notification on his screen. He clicks it to give confirmation and the transmitter on Leo’s person begins forcing its way through the building's mainframe.

This is far from its first rodeo after their many incursions over the past week, and it gets inside within seconds, exactly as Leo's slightly irritated voice chimes in with a tone of warning, "Donatello."

Donnie doesn't know why he has to bother checking in when he is literally just sitting in the lair and out of any sort of danger. He opens up the camera feed before turning on his mic. "Yes. I have eyes inside."

"Good."

Donnie pulls up the cameras for the floor underneath his group, scanning it over as Leo adds, "And we're clear?"

He nods and then catches himself. "You're clear."

"Then we're headed in. Dial if you see him so everyone can reign in on your positions."

Donnie decides not to grace his eldest brother with sarcasm.

"We know how this works, Leo."

He smirks as Leo hangs up as a response. He checks his laptop as Karai's and Slash’s dot darts into their respective buildings. Leo remains still and Donnie knows he's making sure his team gets in first. Their leader is nothing if not unnecessarily chivalrous.

He begins pulling up the camera feeds for each floor, and soon, most of the rooms are under his whims.

He frowns.

He doesn't like the limited eyesight.

He gives himself a few minutes to tackle the problem before checking on the team. Leo remains on the roof, staring at his blade as if searching for something in his own reflection.

Donnie's brows furrow. He opens a private line.

Donnie dials.

Leo picks up.

"Leo?"

A moment of pause and then a hurried. "Still here. Moving out."

Hmm.

Leo drops to the floor. He heads over to his team and then looks straight at Donnie. Blue eyes are sharp and focused, ready to get a move on. Donnie subconsciously straightens as he decides to set his hesitation aside for now.

"Where too?"

"I can see the halls." Donnie offers as he gets back to work on rectifying the current flaw in his eldest's brother otherwise impeccable plan. "There are several rooms lower down that don't have cameras. Or if they do, they aren't connected to the security server."

He presses enter with a smirk as the code finishes. A big, fat, red pop-up invades his screen and his eyes widen in surprise. "Wha- ACCESS DENIED?! COME ON!"

"...Don?"

"Oh. Sorry. No dice." Donnie dismisses as he composes himself. "You find a way in. I'm going to see if I can break this firewall."

A question barely filters in as Donnie gets to work. His next few tries fall flat, and as much as he wants to be annoyed, he can't help but wonder who set this up. It was similar in construct to a few of the online defenses for the gang labs, but this particular system must have been upgraded recently.

As much as he loves a challenge, he has a brother to find.

His gaze strays back to the cameras. The team is in an elevator, moving past the floors that he'd managed to hack and rule out from the outside. He glances at movement on another screen, watching a goon type the final few numbers into a pad. 3-2-6. Interesting.

He scans a few floors and watches a different door getting open. 8-4-3-6-3-2-6.

Donnie scoffs in disbelief. "With their firewalls, there's no way the gang's that dumb."

"Repeat?"

"8-4-3-6-3-2-6." Donnie reveals, checking the floor that they're about to enter.

"And that means something to me becaaauuuse..?"

Donnie rolls his eyes. "It's the code for the rooms. I saw some guys use it on separate floors. I can't believe they actually use the same code for each room!" He grins. "Lame, right?"

"I'd go more with convenient. For both sides." Leo's a mix of amused and smug, so Donnie counts it as a win. He hears Leo call out Mikey's name, a brush of wind and muffled voice, and then Mikey's asking, "Code?"

Ah. Taking advantage of a ‘phonographic’ memory. Always one step ahead.

Donnie graciously repeats the string of numbers. Mikey slaughters the numbers and then sings them out in some blurred rap.

He shakes his head and get back to work, absently questioning, "Hey, you have the EMPs?"

"I handed them off to Mikey."

Donnie lets this sink in. "...You handed Mikey EMPs."

"All he has to do is push a button." Leo huffs as if Mikey isn't supremely skilled in messing up the simpliest of tasks. "Even he can manage that."

"I wish I could see those babies in action." Donnie mutters dreamily as he looks at the wall across his lab, knowing he'll lose connection to all systems in the near vicinity when they go off.

"You hack those camera feeds yet?"

Donnie straightens guiltily. "Uh- working on it!"

Thankfully, Leo leaves it at that. The team genius resumes his duties, falling into the codes and managing to get sight into a few rooms on the lower floors. Each room has a firewall of its own and many of them didn't seem to bear a reason for that kind of security. Maybe they're only for diversion... Higher security in a certain room draws eyes. This gives any invading white hat a difficult time of actually finding what they're looking for.

He wonders if this level of planning was done by the mafia or a gray hat.

A glance at the computer screen has him doing a double-take. The laptop is abandoned as he snatches the t-phone, gaze narrowing on the new arrivals. There you are...

"Leo?"

"What is it?"

"The Fulci twins are here. Bottom most floor." Donnie watches them enter a room, a weapon snug in their hands. The door shuts behind them as he tries to pull up any camera in the room. Another rude rebuke of Access Denied. "I can't get through those firewalls. Whoever set these up really knows their tech."

"Then we regroup." A pause. "The Twins have to know where Raph is being kept, right? Whether or not he's here, they'd be able to tell us. And considering how freaked they get around mutants, a little well-placed threats and we'll get the information in no time."

The confidence in Leo's tone has the unease in Donnie settling. "Try and figure out who the new leader is. If he's kidnapping mutants and targeting our family, a name would be a good start to figuring him out."

"Good call."

Donnie pulls up the needed cameras as April's voice comes over the line.

"Just head straight down." He informs Leo. "I'll alert you when you reach the door."

Conversation flows and then dies as Donnie divides his attention between the firewall and the live feed. They didn't need any surprises. "Mutant hunters, directly ahead."

Lively conversation between his brothers and then, "Where too, Don?"

"I'd say four doors on the other side."

Donnie watches his methodical movement. "That's it."

"You're sure?"

"One hundred percent."

"A'right, here's the plan." Donnie lets his full attention reign on the impossibly stubborn code. He either wants to shake hands with or slap whoever came up with these systems. "Donnie can't break that firewall-"

"I'm bypassiiing."

"-not a dig; just a statement."

"Sure, it isn't." He grumbles as he tries a different sequence.

He listens as the plan is laid out and the others make their objections known. He looks up when the t-phone reports that he's been muted and decides to leave it be. A frown forms as April announces a whole bunker below their room.

They must have hid construction from the city. He should have expected this.

Leo takes it in stride, so Donnie wonders if he'd already considered the option.

He scans through the cameras, but the hidden room must not connect to the system. He wonders how many other secret rooms dwelled in the other labs that they searched. Could they have missed Raph because he put too much faith in the blueprints?

His hand clenches uselessly next to the keyboard.

...Maybe they have their own blueprints in the system?

He latches onto that thought and starts delving through files. He hacks and skims and digs as far as the system goes, using the new anxiety as motivation. Used to working with bickering around him, he forgets to check the cameras and loses track of the team until Mikey's voice is ringing through his t-phone speaker.

"BOOYAKASHA!"

He sucks in a harsh breath and looks at the camera as Casey drops something in his hockey bag and then takes off down a line of stairs. He can hear the tell-tale sounds of battle and goons falling at the team's hands through Leo's phone, drawn into the noise as the urge to be there wells in him.

Leo's voice is dark when he speaks again.

"What did you do with my brother?"

Yikes.  That's why they don't like getting on his bad side.

"Nothin'! I didn't do nothin'!"

He snorts and resumes his search with less fire, ridding any planted viruses and then saving whatever files that he can get his hands on. Whether or not there are blueprints hidden away, these might come in handy later.

"Where is he?"

"You kill me and that freak'll pay for it!"

"Who says I'm going to kill you?"

A loud cry and thud. 

If Leo aims to sound downright murderous, he's on the right track.

"I want my brother."

"I don't-!"

A sharp gasp.

"I'm not going to ask you again-"

A muffled call and then April's voice. Donnie listens as Leo's tactful interrogation continues. An ugly side of him is glad that they're getting what's coming to them. They clearly hadn't learned anything from their last encounter. Probably because the stupid judicial system is corrupt and lets bad people off scott-free. All anyone has to do is give away a few gang members and suddenly their crimes are forgotten, leaving them all the time in the world to kidnap older brothers.

There's not an inch of him that feels sorry for them. They deserved jail time and they deserve this. He only wishes he could be there. All they have to do is give a the location, but they're playing tough-guys. That sounds like a personal problem.

He finds a string of code that is different from the rest. After some curious investigation, he realizes that he's entered an entirely remote server. He perks at this revelation and dives into the new electronic realm.

The first thing he stumbles upon is a list of project names that mean nothing to him.

Donnie closes out and finds hundereds of different folders with more folders within them. He digs into one, opening the first file that he finds. It seems to be chemical blueprints and notes for a new type of experimental drug. He clicks out and then enters the files next to it.

They're all drugs of one kind or another. The thing that captures his attention is the continuous mentions of mutagen within the chemical recipes. He freezes when a phrase catches his eyes.

Approved for Bio-Spawn testing.

Approved…

Bio-Spawn?

The term rings a serious bell, though he can't name why.

It's the TCRI debacle all over again.

He knows this. He knows this.

Come on, Donatello, what does it mean?

A bright alert takes over his screen, warning him that someone is reaching from the new system and into his. He immediately doubles back, scrambling to kick the black hat from his servers. They don't go down easily, but are no match for his recently installed Kraang processors.

They're dropped-kicked out of the server as fast as they'd entered and Donnie shuts the laptop down completely before they have a chance to return.

He lets out a long breath when he reboots and his files remain untouched.

Close one.

"Perfect. Tell us what you know."

Donnie zones into the conversation happening miles away and eagerly picks up the t-phone.

"Vinnie first. Then the information."

"Deal's a deal."

He keeps the t-phone in one hand and does an internet search on Bio-Spawn with the other.

It's... A biotech company?

That would explain why he's heard of it.

"You're not going to like what I have to say."

Donnie frowns.

"Tell me anyway."

Leo sounds unbothered.

"We didn't take him."

Likely story.

"Another guy did. Specilizes in mutants. We didn't know his plans."

"Doc's like a freelancer. Does what he wants."

Freelancer who specializes in mutant hunting.

Wonderful. As if they don't already have enough to worry about.

"When we went to check up on him, we found him with the muty."

Donnie scans through the information on Bio-Spawn website.

Biology experts.

Influential in all the last technologies.

Owner, the prestigious Victor Ferrall...

"Where?"

Ferrall. Victor Ferrall.

"Where was he?"

Why does that also ring a bell?

"Was Raph okay?"

He knows that name.

"Doesn't matter."

Has he done research on him before?

Seen it in a mafia file?

"He's dead."

Donnie's hand freezes over the keyboard.

An explosion of fury follows the remark.

He's inclined to agree with them.

"Oh, yeah?"

The words on the screen blur.

Donnie hates the confidence lacing his tone and the wave of goosebumps along his arms.

There's a long beat of silence. Something tears in the background.

"That thing clawed away at my brother."

"Hissing and growling- probably was going to eat him."

It both does and doesn't sound like Raph.

"Tried to escape. Almost made it out, so he ended the experiment."

The chair clatters to the ground, t-phone gripped tightly between both hands. Experiment? He was an experiment? They were experimenting on him?

The pressure on his chest swells. He swallows the panic.

They're lying.

They're- they're lying to make them stop looking.

They have to be lying, because that's the kinda thing the mafia would do.

"Doc's not a fan of his projects getting out of hand-"

"No."

"-and that one was already trouble."

"No, no, no, no."

"We tried to warn him."

"There's no way. Not him. Not Raph."

"Freaks don't make good pets."

"You didn't- he's not-"

"Don't believe him? We got a little souvenir for our troubles. Have at it."

Donnie hears a blade hit the ground.

He hears Mikey gasp; the desperate mumble of denial from under his breath.

Leo doesn't say a word. Hasn't said a word all this time.

He should be calling them out. He should be demanding the truth.

He should be wielding his razor threats, reserved only for those who hurt his brothers.

So why isn't he?

The labs echoes his silence and then-

"April?"

He expects an immediate denial. She needs to vocalize the lie.

She should have interrupted so much earlier. Cleared the air before fear slipped into his baby brother's voice.

April doesn't answer.

She isn't answering she won't answer why isn't she-

A cold chill runs down his spine. 

Fight or flight steals his breath.

He knows this terror.

He's felt this distance- this weight- this helplessness-

Falling- falling- falling- falling-

His baby brother's voice is so small.

Her voice rings clear.

"They're telling the truth."

***

If they had to use the EMPs, Donnie warned that it would fry their t-phones.

If the mission were to go south, they were to meet up at the rendezvous.

That was the plan, one based on ifs. They had it all worked out. 

If they had to use the EMPS. 

If the mission went south. 

Mona is at the wheel, emotions carefully concealed behind a passive mask. No one comments on the blood that stains the steering wheel, dripping soundlessly along bright blue armor. Casey has his physical mask lowered, the one he and Raph made together, silently running a hand along Raph's station. April's face is buried in her arms, fingers clawing into elbows, tears soaked by the bands on her wrists. 

Leo sits is on the floor, his little brother safely in his grip.

In one hand, he clutches the only piece of a lost brother that they have.

He hasn’t dared release it, or even rest his wrist on the available carapace. The idea of it touching Mikey, of the horrors attached to it tainting the innocence that they’ve tried so hard to preserve, is more than he can bear. 

It nauseates him to think about. How long they must have been carrying it. How it could have been taken away. Was it during the escape? Was it... After?

They could have desecrated him and they'd never know. 

He wouldn't be able to be buried near their father. This is all they have. 

A piece of him with edges so smooth that it had to have been cut away with precision. It's disgusting and vile and he knows everyone is thinking it and he's holding the shell in his hand. 

Leo wants nothing more than to chuck it somewhere that even he won't be able to find it, far from anyone's eyesight or reach.

The thought only has him clinging tighter.

If Mikey has sentiments on it, he has yet to speak up. 

He hadn't spoken since they'd left.

The orange mask is a darker shade and his shoulders still shake, but the heartbreaking sobs have descended into soft keens. Leo's face twists in a pain that he can't express, holding him with one arm and muttering reassurances that are meant only for the youngest Hamato. Gentle, meaningless consolations that neither of them believe.

No other sound is made until the van comes to a stop. 

The brothers don't bother with stealth as they dash to the door, throwing it open with a clang that slices the silence in half. 

Leo releases Mikey's arm as they take off in sprints.

No one follows, even though the detour is not unexpected. 

They should be at the rendezvous. 

That was the plan, Leo's own carefully sculpted plan, but they couldn't care less. 

The leader had given a breathless command and Mona obeyed without question. 

They had one stop to make first, one more hug to squeeze into so they could breathe again. 

They dash past useless plans and scattered objects filled with aching memories, ramming through the partially open door to find the last existing piece to their broken family.

The lab sits empty.

Notes:

Can you tell I know little about computers and coding?

Took a LOT of creative liberties with the formatting. Good times~

Chapter 15: Hard To Explain

Summary:

Did anyone order some EMotIonAL DaMagE?

Notes:

Donnie is a canonly OCD character.

The thing about OCD is that it comes with a wide level of intrusive thoughts. This could range from intrusive images to anxiety/fear inducing speculations or determinations that lead an OCD individual to compulsively choose courses of action that they perceive will avoid the bad happenings.

It's so hard to explain

With your heart in a cage

Only whisper but you wanna shout

'Cause the second you wake

Too much pressure to take

Every part of you wants to cry out

***

"I'm gonna lead them away. Stay here. You'll only slow me down."

"What?" Donnie wants to scream at him for such an idoitic suggestion, but he can barely breathe. "That's- terrible idea. We have... to stay together."

"You're drugged and I'm not having this argument with you." Raph glares back at him. Every muscle is tense and his expression is irate with a fury that would normally have one of them keeping him in place and calming him down. 

Donnie would try, but he has a feeling that if he moves he's going to end up on the ground, and Raph would absolutely take advatage to leave. "I can take care of myself."

"But-!" Donnie struggles to come up with a  convincing argument, terrified of Raph leaving, and terrified to be left alone, terrified that his mind is slipping through his fingers while danger lurks so close, leaving him to grapple for any kind of hold on reailty. 

Of course, he knows that Raph can take care of himself. But he's insanely outnumbered and outweaponed and they almost killed him last time and if he fights they could kill him or kidnap him and hurt him dissect him and if he leaves than Donnie can't help and he'll be alone and they'll both be alone and they'll find them him and he can't go through that again he can't-

Raph's blurred around the edges when he enters into his line of sight. Donnie's taken off his feet and he latches onto his older brother. Don't go. Don't go.

"I'm just gonna lead them away, and I can't have dead weight." Raph's words are blunt and harsh, but his eyes have softened. "I'll be right back for you, soon as I get rid of these bozos. But you have to stay here."

It's firm, like a promise.

Donnie has to stay so Raph can come back.

He can see that he's not going to be able to talk him out of it. 

"No- fighting. Can't win. Just... Lead 'em away."

"Stay here, Don." 

Donnie thinks that's the closest thing to an affirmative that he's going to get. 

He lets go and watches his older brother move away. Raph looks back just once, a confident anger in a firey gaze, and then he's gone. Donnie swallows his fear.

He'll come back. He'll be back. 

He promised.

***

Donnie misses the ladder. 

A flush of adrenaline kicks in as he releases the thing in his hand to grab hold of the fire escape, dragging himself up. He drops onto the medal and almost crumbles to his knees, grabbing the bar next to him as the world spins into a woozy mess. His breaths are heavy as he leans over the rails. He feels like his entire body trembles with the weakness.

He looks down, recognizing his t-phone on the ground; the screen shattered. 

He is... Really high up.

He closes his eyes and blocks out the swimming ground, trying to steady the heartrate that is wildly out of beat. He needs to relax. Breathe, Donatello. Breathe. Breathe... 

He remains unmoving for a few peaceful moments, jerking backward when his senses are launched into the sensation of falling, slamming his carapace into the stairway behind him.

Sewer apples, he almost-

Don't think about it.

He does anyway because his brain is horrible like that. It floods with images of cracked carapace and bloodstained garbage, the body morphing from something long and pale to a shell that’s compact and bulky. A mask as red as the liquid that coats the ground.

Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don't pass out.

He swallows thickly, deciding that staying put is unsafe if he's trying not to give into the pull of unconsciousness. He gets the feeling this isn't the first time he's come to a similar conclusion.

Donnie forces himself onto two feet and looks up. Three stairways from the roof. He grabs the railing and starts moving. His right ankle aches with every step. He vaguely recalls knocking it against something during his sprint, but it's pushed aside. 

He makes it to the rooftop, hoisting himself up the ladder and over the few inches of parapet, collapsing to collect his energy. There's color behind his close eyes, so he opens them. There is one word spelled out in large glowing letters on the building across from him, and his world stalls.

Right underneath the lettering, a purple glow illuminates a snake enclosed in a hexagon. 

Bio-Spawn.

Raph .

Donnie all but throws himself to his feet and staggers over to the water tower that blocks some of his view of the massive building. He grabs onto the tower leg and scans the facility that has to have something to do with his brother's de- disappearence. 

If the others won't let him help, then he'll just have to go on his own. 

He releases the metal and pulls out his grappling hook. He doesn't know if he can jump that far and he would rather have a smooth descent anyway. 

He heads to the other side of the roof and tries to aim at the flagpoll above the window that leads into a dark room. Tries is exactly the right word for it because his hand won't stop shaking and if he hits the window, alarms could alert the entire building of an invader. 

He lowers it with a frustrated growl and then closes his eyes, willing whatever it is that encourages his body's disobedience to stop. Just need to calm down. Like Sensei says. Nin means patience and perseverance. He needs to breathe and focus. Breathe. Breathe. 

Raph needs him.

He opens his eyes with steady hands and-

"Donnie!"

-his arms jerk and the grapple bounces off the opposite wall, falling and uselessly hitting the side of the building. Donnie follows it down to the wide-eyed little brother on the ground. For a long moment, he only stares. Then he realizes why they're here and tears away his gaze. 

He presses for the grapple to reload, gritting his teeth as it pulls the wire back in at what feels like a far slower pace than need-be. "Come on, come on, come on-"

"Donatello, what are you doing?"

His shoulders hike up but he doesn't dare look back at Leo. "I'm finding our brother."

"Donnie-"

"I found a new lead and I'm finding him!"

"Donnie, he's-"

"Shut up!" Donnie whirls to glare at April. "You don't know what you're talking about!"

April's eyes dart about his face in shock as Casey grabs hold of her arm, "Dude, listen to her! The mafia dudes, they said-"

"I don't care what they said. They're a bunch of criminals and liars and he's out there so I'm going to find him!" The grapple finishes and he moves to take aim, but his wrist is grabbed by his older brother. "Donnie, please, you're not-"

"I'm fine!" He wrenches his hand away, barely keeping his footing as he stumbles on throbbing ankle. "Stop fussing over things that don't matter! We have to find Raph!"

"Donnie-"

He's just gonna gonna have to spell it out for them, isn't he?

He grits his teeth. "Was there a body?"

Leo stiffens and Donnie finally brings himself to meet his gaze. "Was. There. A. Body?" 

His older brother only swallows, bringing a fist to his chest, so he turns to the others, throwing out both arms. "Well?"

"No." Casey admits reluctantly. "But they-"

"Then he's not dead." Donnie bursts before he can repeat the meaningless piece of information. "No body means there's no proof which means he's not dead!" 

"They believed it." April speaks up with glassy eyes. "Every single word. They believed it." 

"So?!"

"So?!" She scrubs at her eyes. "They were telling the truth! I felt it!" 

"Because the infallible April couldn't possibly be wrong!" Donnie snarls with the bitterness that corrodes his thoughts. He doesn't know why she won't drop the subject or why she's mourning over what's not lost. "Or maybe you're not as all powerful as you pretend you are! Where were your senses and feelings when they knocked me out and took Raph?" 

April turns away from him, bringing a trembling hand to her mouth and shaking her head. Casey throws an arm in front of her, warning. "Watch it! I get this is all kinds of wrong, but you can't blame her!"

"I wasn't blaming anyone!" He wasn't, really, but now he thinks maybe it did sound like that by the way she's letting Casey act as her shield. "I just want you all to stop being so naive! Since when do we trust the villains? Or the mafia?!" 

"Since when do you doubt April!" Casey challenges venomously. "You know what those guys were going to do to you! What makes you think they wouldn't- they wouldn't- " 

He clenches his fists and glares at the rooftop below. Leo takes over, his voice weak. "Dee. Can we talk about this. Somewhere safer?" 

"No." He angles back toward the building. "I'm not going anywhere." 

"Why?" Donnie searches for accusation in the tone, but the curiosity sounds genuine. "Why are you here, Donnie?" 

"They have something to do with the mafia. Some connection to Raph." He looks up. Leo steps towards him. Once. Cautious. "I have to figure this out, Leo. I can't sit back anymore. Not when I have a lead-"

"You never mentioned this." No accusation. A downward crease of the mouth. "This place? Where are we?"

"Bio-tech company. They were in the mafia's files, or synced up to them- the- the systems-" He shakes his head, lowering the grappling hook. "They're connected, Leo, it's a lead. We can find him. I just need a chance to look around-" 

"There are lights on. Multiple windows lit. There are people inside." Leo is across from him, firm and steady with a glassy sheen across his eyes and not listening. "Besides, they didn't take him. Another guy did. They didn't even know-"

"That's what they said." He looks at the ground, unable to hold his gaze. "That doesn't make it true. We're ninja. We can get in and out unseen. I can-" 

"We can." Donnie looks up, shocked swallowed by relief. "But not here. Not now, okay?"

He hesitates, eyes darting for the building. "Why not?" 

"We don't know what we're walking into. We don't even know where we're going once we’re in." Leo's hand moves into his peripheral. "We can gather information. Talk to the Mutanimals. You know I don't like to rush into things, Dee. Let's come back. We can talk this through and then we can come back. Yeah?"

Donnie isn't the best people person, but he knows his brothers. He knows how to tell when Mikey's smile is a little too tight. He knows when Raph's snide remarks about his actions on the field are words of concern rather than criticism. He knows that Leo only dares to look another in the eye when he's absolutely certain that he isn't lying because he knows that even a glimmer of guilt will give him away. 

"Dee?"

Donnie thinks he should have spent more time in front of the mirror. 

He realizes the inching hand’s intent as it nears its target, heart burning through his veins as he protectively tightens his grip over the grappling hook. He's swinging before he realizes that he's clenched his fist, slamming his brother in the mouth so hard that he stumbles. He doesn't think twice to darting forward and kicking him hard enough to clear plenty of space between them. 

"You LIAR." He snarls so loud that it breaks shatters the fragile hope that had begun to blossom. His eyes sting as he watches him get to his feet, fingers pressing against the blood dripping from his mouth. "You don't mean a single WORD of that, do you? Since when do you run into things?! When family is involved? PLEASE! Since when DON’T you?!" 

Leo doesn't say a word against what they both know is true and Donnie wishes that one person in his family wasn't an absolute idiot. "You practically ordered us to charge Shredder's base when the Foot took Raph for the brain worm! What makes this any different?! You're just trying to drag me home so you can lock me up and play that our brother is dead."

"HEY! Don't you-"

"Would you SHUT UP!" Donnie whirls on the good-for-nothing hockey player who can't ever mind his own business. "Since when do you buy into the villains'  hands, Jones? Since when do you care if the odds are a'hundred to none? Why do you always have to be just the WORST at the WORST POSSIBLE TIME?!" 

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" Casey surges for him but April throws herself in the way. "Casey, he doesn't mean it, he's scared, upset, please-" 

"YOU'RE THE ONE WHO DITCHES HOME TO GO GET HIMSELF KILLED AND IS ACTING LIKE A TOTAL JERK! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, MAN?!" 

"ME?!" Donnie throws up his hands. "IT'S NOT ABOUT ME! IT'S ABOUT RAPH!" 

"Casey." Leo's voice is impossibly calm for someone who just got socked in the face and is trying to intervene a screaming match. His wrapping are smeared with scarlet. 

Casey snarls, a loud and dominating sound, and turns his face away. April leans against his chest, hiding her face from view. Donnie wants nothing more than to shove them apart, blinded by the image of Casey tripping off the roof. The blood on his suit when he hits the ground.

The blood on scarlet robe and brown fur. 

Bright red oozing down plastron.

He shakes his head as his breaths come in short pants. He refocuses on the grappling hook on his hand and the air that isn't coming into his lungs. He looks to the building, attention darting to Leo when he moves. He stops, hands out, like one attempting to approach a wounded animal.

Donnie hates that his voice shakes as if he has any reason to be upset. As if he has the right to make Donnie feel guilty when they're the ones at fault.  

"Donnie, you're upset and I get it but this isn't-"

"I am not going anywhere!" Donnie interrupts. He locks the grapple back in place, focusing his gaze on the building. "So just back off already!"

His voice rises in pitch. "You know I can't do that!" 

"Can't or won't?"

"As your Sensei-"

His head whips, eyes ablaze. "Don't you DARE-"

"-to come home-"

"-not LEAVING HIM-"

"-talk this out!"

"-ually do something!" 

"Why won't you listen to me?!"

"I've done everything you asked! Now it's MY turn to try-"

"We all tried and we found our answer-"

"So you're just giving up on him-?!" 

"I am not and you know it-" 

"I am finding our BROTHER-" 

"And if there's NOTHING TO FIND?!" 

Donnie snaps his hold on sanity and tosses it away like the slim twig it is.

"THAT IS IT! STOP ACTING LIKE HE'S DEAD! YOU'RE BUYING INTO IT AND GIVING THEM WHAT THEY WANT! HE'S NOT DEAD! HE'S NOT DEAD! HE'S NOT-!"

He's slammed with enough force that he hits the ground. He process the fact that the grapple is no longer in his hands, panic a cold dose of ice down his spine. He goes through the motions of shoving Mikey off of him and resuming his mission, but pauses at the tremors under his finger tips. It dawns on him how quiet his little brother has been through this whole argument and how scared he must be after the absolute gullibilty that has corrupted their family. 

He's always been the last one to accept the obvious. It's not fair that they're doing this to him. 

"He's not." Donnie's voice quivers as he gives up the fight. He wraps his arms around him, pleading. "He's not, Mikey. He can't be. We need to find him."

"I miss him." Mikey whispers, a fragile truth breaking at the seams. "I miss him so much." 

"I-I do too, Mike, I-" The pain strengthens at his resolve. "That's why I have to find him. I have to."

"You'll get hurt." Mikey hides his eyes in his neck, squeezing tighter around his shell. "They'll get you and I'll lose you too." 

"Mikey, that's not fair." He begs weakly, blinking away the blurs that cloud his vision. 

He expects to see his older brother scowling at the both of them, looking for that reminder of why he needs to fight this- but all he finds are glassy eyes and a trembling fist locked over his heart, staring at them with a defeat so deep that Donnie can feel it in his core. 

Leo's breath hitches when their eyes meet. He looks to the side, where his gaze rises.

Donnie follows it to the purple glow that conceals the key to finding their brother. 

The purple shines like a beacon. A sign. 

No turtle left behind.

His hands fall away from Mikey's shell, agony swirling into something he can use. 

"He's still out there."

"Donnie, no-"

"He is." He swallows, each heartbeat harsher than the last. "He- he's coming back. He's trying to come back, but I have to help him."

"He did try and they- th-the-y had p-proof-"

"Without a body there is no proof." His tone loses all trace of the gentle conviction. "I will not make a gamble on my brother's life based on someone's word." He tears his gaze away and it falls on the grappling hook several feet away. He pulls his arms back, hands tight on his brother's biceps. "Mikey, I can't abandon him-"

"Donnie, Donnie- please. Please." 

"N-no turtle left behind. No turtle left behind." Donnie whispers like a prayer, ignoring the desperation in his tone. He pushes down to force him to detach. Mikey's tear-stricken face comes into view, haunted by a new kind of betrayal, searching his face for a weakness that Donnie will never let him find. He rises, the world trying to tilt, body unsteady. 

It doesn't need to be this way. They could- should work together on this. "No turtle left behind. He- he wouldn't, Mikey. I can't." 

Mikey shakes his head, getting to his feet and reaching out. 

Donnie doesn't dare let him touch. 

Something burns behind that glassy sheen, brighter than he's ever seen. "Don't you get it?! He already did!"

"He said he'd come back." Donnie reiterates. Mikey wasn't there. He can't possibly know. None of them know- they can't understand. "He was coming back, but they got him. He- he was just trying to help and now he needs help and I'm going to help him!"

"He left you!" Mikey challenges as his voice rises. "He dumped you in a basement and he left!"

"He was protecting me!"

"HE COULD HAVE STAYED!" All pretense of vulnerablity is gone. The anguish seems to solidify into something much uglier. If he believed that Mikey was capable of such an emotion, he would have thought it was hate. "He could have waited with you! But he didn't and they took him!" 

"He was leading them away-!" 

Mikey barks out a jagged laugh, broken and twisted. "My bad! Raph decided not to go punch the baddies and just ran away! Good little soldier retreat! Do you HEAR YOURSELF?!" 

Donnie flinches and Mikey's mock smile falls. "Dude. Raph did what Raph wanted just like always. He left the lair. He went to knock heads. And then after he dumped you, he fought the bad guys. And now he's gone. He lied to you, Donnie! He's not coming back!"

"He's not the only liar." Donnie matches the intensity. "You wanna know the truth? I dragged Raph out here. I told Raph I wanted some action. I encouraged him into the warehouse. The only reason anything happened was because of me." 

Mikey deflates, hands pulled to his chest as he steps back. His voice is small, choked by the reemerging betrayal. "...What?"

"Yeah! Right? Crazy, how easy you believe something just because someone says it's true." Donnie sneers, determined to get the truth through his impossibly thick, empty skull. "Raph found me. Raph SAVED me. And Raph would never leave any of us behind. So I'm. Not. Leaving HIM! Now, how about you LISTEN for once in your life, shut your useless mouth, step back, and let the only reasonable adult handle this." 

"No!" Mikey bursts, stomping like a petulant toddler in the midst of a tantrum. It only proves Donnie's point despite him standing firm as watery eyes spill over, body shaking with the emotions that demand release. "For once, you're the one who needs to listen! You keep telling us about how well you know those jerks- how quickly they wanted to- to cut you up-"

A sob breaks past his defenses. He swipes at his face, desperately trying to wipe away the proof of the agony eating him up on the inside. "It was a few hours- a few hours- and we barely got there! They hate us! That's why the big bad humans always take the m-monsters! To poke and stab and hook their brains up to scary machines!"

Mikey gives up the fight to remove the streaming agony, anger and pain lacing every syllable. "I'm not wrong! I'm not! We know they took him and we know he would have been Raph the whole time and he'd fight and t-try to escape so-so they-"

His voice cracks, jagged and sharp and painful as the truth sinks in, and he crumbles to the ground under the weight of it. This is the first time that Leo moves. He reaches out a hand, but his legs don't travel the distance. It stays, outstretched and unwanted, as their brother falters.

Donnie can't look away, but he recognizes the cry of a wound far deeper than anything else. He can still hear his own in the back of his mind, overcome by the moment where his father is flung. He barely registers the sound of sneakers slapping concrete, of wood cracking and splitting as it meets a stronger force.

Donnie feels something dense tug at his chest and reach into his lungs, tearing the air out and leaving him breathless. He can feel the ache seeping in, head shaking with calculated swings as he numbs himself to what can't be true, pushing away the images that have been trying to claim dominance since he awoke without a brother. 

He stares at Mikey, unable to bring himself to do much else.

"He was trying to get out! He was fighting so hard but he was all alone and scared and hurt- they h-hurt him and cut him and he couldn’t do an-anythi-ing! They h-hurt him a-and they- they ki-ki-i-ii-it's not fffair- he was sca-ared and he-he wa-wanted to go hhomme-"

He tampers off and Donnie blinks, noting that April has found her way to his side and Mikey's buried his face into her shoulder, shielded away from the horrors that lace each word. She shushes him, running a quivering hand along the back of his scalp, gentle and comforting. 

A part of Donnie wants that. Another part hisses that he doesn't deserve it. 

"Does that ever make you feel guilty?"

Donnie realizes that Casey and Leo are no longer in sight. 

"Sometimes."

His body starts moving on its own.

Mikey snivels weakly, pushing into her,  "I ca- I can't- 'P- Pril- I-I w-wan’ go h-home." 

"I know." Is the tearful whisper. "I know- me too." 

Donnie's hand closes around the grappling hook. 

"I do. Feel guilty."

Every muscle in his body seizes. 

"...You? Really?"

He pitches forward before he realizes he's falling, preventing from hitting the ground by a hand around his waist. His body tilts, the weight shifted backward onto a firm surface, finger pressing into the pressure point and keeping him paralyzed. A whimper barely escapes his throat, tears breaking free of confinement now that he can't blink them back.

"I know. I'm sorry, little brother, I-" A voice thinner than the air around them begs a forgiveness that he can't muster. "We can't lose you too. I can't lose you too. I won't." 

"Don't want people gettin' hurt."

Donnie can't respond. Can't move. Can barely think. 

"Mikey." Leo chokes from overhead. "Mikey, I need a chuck."

Panic seers adrenaline through his chest. He remains motionless. 

"So, yeah."

Mikey tears away from April like the action physically pains him. 

"What?"

Leo tightens his hold, voice warbling. 

"Mikey, please." 

Donnie can see the way he recoils and thinks he'll say no.

"Contradictory wants." 

Lower lip trembling, Mikey stumbles to his feet. 

"Wonder what that says about us."

Pinprick pupils look to April 

She doesn't even turn, shoulders hitching up as she curls around herself, head bowed.

Any of the hope that Donnie clings too crumbles around him.

It dawns on him that they're truly willing to leave him for dead. 

They're not going to let him bring their brother home. He doesn't even get to try.

Raph's going to die in the midst of their worst nightmare and they're going to let it happen. 

"I got your guys' shells, Don."

He risked his life doing what he always did, protecting them.

And they're leaving him for dead.

"Nothing's going to happen while I'm around."

He wants to struggle. He wants to kick and beg and scream.

"I've got yours too."

Leo adjusts him up. Mikey undoes the chain.

"All of us do."

Once again, he has no choice but to stay.

"Sorry, Dee." 

Only now, he knows the voice of a promise never meant to be kept. 

"It'll be okay, little brother." 

Notes:

I love these guys so much. I just keep punching them and they don’t break!

…Well. Not physically.

I have Tumblr!

Chapter 16: Silent Scream

Summary:

It’s occurs to me that Raphie is supposed to be dead.

The confusing part is that he’s very much alive.

Whoopsy. My bad.

Notes:

(Since some people in the comments seem a little confused.)

April can’t see all truths of the universe with the snap of her fingers. She can, however, judge the beliefs of the people around her. That doesn’t necessarily mean these beliefs are fact. Truth is subjective, after all.

And, in some cases, so is death.

I hope so hard for the pain to go away 

And it's torturing me 

But I can't break free 

So I cry and cry, but just won't get it out 

The silent scream

***

Raph could use a nap.

Every time his eyes close, they open with the same drowsy exhaustion. He doesn’t know how long he’s allowed rest, but it’s definitely never enough. Each training regime is beginning to blur together. Nutjob’s new favorite game is to see how many things he can inject into Raph without making him pass out. He puts him up against Karl when he’s too unsteady to survive a run-in with bombs or lasers. Evading Karl is a lot easier than avoiding bots, but when he gets caught the punishment is always so much worse. Karl likes to get creative with the fact that he can’t defend, eager to tick Raph off so he fights back. 

When Raph fights back, it give Karl permission to break bones and draw blood. 

He prefers the bots. The bots are great. 

He’ll never make fun of brainless hunks of metal again.

Raph's lost track of the amount of times a needle pierced flesh, pushing in an unidentifiable liquid or removing blood or bone marrow. He doesn’t flinch anymore when blades scrape off a bit of skin and shell.

Today- Tonight? He missed being able to tell time- Nutjob strapped him down and removed some of his carapace lip, brushing off his complaints that he already had a chunk of his plastron.

Raph’s not sure how much shell he could possibly need. 

Nutjob’s the one who said that he wouldn’t slice-and-dice a turtle. Whatever happened to that? 

He vocalizes as much as clipboard returns to gloved hands.

Raph earns a knowing look that makes his gut churn with unease. 

The pride is unmistakable. "I saw your brothers last night."

Raph doesn't understand what that has to do with anything. Why he's smiling like he’s not traumatized from such an encounter. Why his buck-toothed face isn't completely caved in.

Or why he's still in this nightmare. 

"Security feed caught a few faces." Oh. Well, boo to that. "The name Arnold Jones wouldn't happen to mean anything to you?"

He doesn't answer, slightly dumbfounded. Casey never mentioned a brother.

Nutjob’s grin falters. "No? Really.” He pulls out his phone, scrolling. “It’s the name on file.” He looks up, frowning. “Arnold Jones.”

Raph shrugs, still having met none of Casey’s relatives for their sanity and safety. 

The frown deepens. “I have a hard time believing that considering how often you’re reported with the hockey-themed high-schooler.” 

Raph blinks. Stares. Contemplates. Eyes widen because holy mother of mutations- 

Is Casey's name actually ARNOLD?! 

ARNOLD?!?!

He can’t believe it. He can't believe that unhinged adrenaline-junkie would keep this from him. They were supposed to be friends. They’d been smacking baddies around for- what, two years? Three? Why is he only learning this now?

He'd never felt so utterly betrayed. 

“Raphael?”

At least, he’s sure this has to be somewhere in his top ten utter betrayals.

Casey is never going to hear the end of this. Ever. The first thing he’ll do when he finally gets home is spread the word immediately because how dare he. 

“Raphael.” 

He can see why he’d change it, but he feels like that's something he deserved to learn from Casey forever ago. 

Not from this total whack job. Talk about spoilers. 

“Raphael.” 

"You." Raph decides through gritted teeth. "Are the worst."

Nutjob scribbles on his board. "You'd be surprised how many people would disagree.”

“Not surprised that a glorified loser would surround himself with blind blockheads.”

He clicks his pen. “Wonder what that makes you.”

Good point. He needs to make two guys lives absolute misery.

“Doc Ferrall?”

“Karl.”

Nevermind. Make that three.

***

"Why can't you ever cooperate?"

Karl presses his knee against carapace, twisting his arm behind his shell. It’s not necessarily painful so the snark comes easy. “Thought you liked the hard way?” 

The frustrated rabbit pushes the arm further. His captive squirms under him, but the weight and the discomfort doesn't give him much wiggle room. The fights lacks its usual intensity, which is the only reason his abuser hasn't stooped to testing out new ways to cause pain. 

"Just givin' you want you want." 

"I don't have time to deal with this." Karl snaps. "Ferrall's waiting. You're just going to make it worse for the both of us."

"Make what worse? My  torture?" Raph's tone is heavy with condensation. "Again. Thought that was something you liked. Don't see how that effects you."

"Are all of you turtles this arrogant, or is it just you?" 

"Don't talk about them!"

"I'll talk about who I want." Karl leans forward, lowering his voice to a calculated whisper. "But if you'd rather wait until our conversation is a little more private..."

Raph pales and swallows, not daring to make any acknowledgement to the threat. He can feel the beady eyes boring into his skull, but he doesn't dare avert his gaze from the floor. He doesn't want to risk falling into fury or giving the mutant the satisfaction of seeing the fear that quickens his heart. 

"That's what I thought." 

He releases his arm, letting the aching appendage fall limp to the ground. Raph stays in the prone position, low migraine throbbing, cheek resting against cool floor. 

The weight leaves his shell. 

"On your feet."

Raph grimaces as he drags the concrete block that is his body from the ground. He brushes at the beading sweat on his forehead and his gaze strays on the unlocked cuffs. He knows better to assume that he has any kind of advantage. Having his hands free is more of a privilege than anything else. "Ya know something, Freakshow?" 

"What did I tell you-"

"I wish this was chained."

That shuts him up. For a grand total of seventy-two seconds. 

"You want chains? Are you some kind of sicko?"

"Just one. Right through here." He points mindlessly between the middle of the cuffs. "Sensei taught us a lot of stuff. Mostly defense. He was boring like that. And really into kidnapping.” He pauses to eye the rabbit. “Like, if someone tried tying you up, you incapacitate them before escaping. Always use what you have. Like rope. Or cuffs. Get them on their back, chain around their throat-" He makes the motions, locking down his arms as if strangling someone. "-and they're out. 'Course, press too much and it's permanent." 

Karl stares, wonderfully rendered mute.

"Sensei told us to keep it brief. Wasn't big on the whole murder thing." Raph holds his wrists up to the rabbit, pretending to measure the nonexistent chain against his neck. "I'd like to think there's another timeline where I get to ask forgiveness 'stead of permission." 

He watches Karl's face color despite his ruffled fur, fury locking his muscles.

But, really, where did he think that was going? 

"Meh." Raph lets his hands fall limp to his lap. "A turtle can daydream." 

His shell takes the full impact of his new violently changed position against the wall. He groans as a hand locks around his throat to toss him a second time, carapace slotting neatly into the far corner. Raph doesn't bother to move, pain taking it’s time in infecting aching bruises, "Someone's got a tempeeer." 

"You got something to say to me?!" 

Raph's everything throbs. "Ow."

"Get over it." Karl sneers. "Now get up."

He blinks dumbly. "One day, you're- gonna break somethin' master can't fix." 

"Ferrall doesn't want you intact." The cuffs lock. Raph's too tired for another round of torture, but he knows that nothing he does can get him out of it. "I already told you. He wants you because he thinks you'll be the easiest to crack. You talk like a big man, but you're weak. And Ferrall's gonna fix-" 

Raph stops listening. Whether or not it's true, he'd rather let Karl monologue about how pathetic he is than risk opening his mouth. 

He wonders what's taking his brothers so long. He doesn't blame them for the delay. He didn't even know Ferrall existed before his kidnapping, and he doesn't know where he's being held. It'll take them some time to track him down.

He wishes they'd hurry up though.

"...way I see it, Ferrall's not a very sharing guy." Dude really likes to hear himself talk. Gonna give Mikey a run for his money. "Once he figures you out, he'll figure out the others. He'll collect every mutant in and out of this city and he'll make them his. So good news for both of us. I get a formal introduction, and you get your precious brothers." 

A quite scoff escapes. Karl voice drops in warning, shadow crossing over him. "Something you wanna say to me?"

"They're not gonna go down easy." Raph meets his glare. "Not now that you took me. Nutjob played his hand too soon. Now they know you're after turtles. They're gonna be sleeping with an eye open. You think I'm difficult?" His chest swells with a familiar pride as he smirks. "You have no idea what you're dealing with."

Karl snarls. "We'll see." 

"Yeah." Raph challenges. "You will." 

He's prepared when Karl strikes him so hard that he sees stars.

***

His jaw is sore as he's dragged into the electricity room. He doesn't know why they bother with the blindfold at this point. He could easily make it from the Room to the lab or the white room or anywhere else with or without the annoying piece of fabric. Not that he necessarily wants them to know this.

He anxiously awaits being shoved into the chair. 

Instead he feels the cuffs separate before his arms are lifted into the air. His legs are kicked out, individually placed in shackles of their own. They close automatically at the pressure.  The furred grip releases him, but his hands remain upright, and he feels the blindfold slip off.

Raph immediately turns his attention to his inexplicably unmoving arms. The metal cuffs are pressed against tall poles, obediently remaining in place. By now, Raph's knows better than to bother pulling against restraints. 

Dread pools in his stomach as he scans the room. He can see the back of the electric chair amongst the machinery and other tech. A bitter comment about the decor is on the tip of his tongue until he catches the rabbit's narrowed eyes. They dare him to let it reach open air and face the consequences. He clamps his mouth shut. 

He turns away when Karl smirks, shame twisting at him even more than the nerves.

"Well, well. A quiet Raphael. Isn't this a welcome surprise."

Raph's face grows warm as his teeth grit, letting the embarrassment swallow his fear. His eyes dart to locate the owner of the taunting voice, but it comes from somewhere behind him, and he gives up as Nutjob adds. "A less welcome surprise is how long retrieval took. Five minutes off schedule, Karl." 

"I was dealing with obstinance." Karl bows his head away from Nutjob, but Raph can see the simmering hatred in his glare. It's more than obvious that they bear no love for one another, and he wonders why the rabbit even works for him. "Discipline takes time." 

"Excuses." Ferrall's voice goes from neutral to icy. "You know how I feel about excuses."

"The subject was being irrational and it was only a few minu-" 

A startled cry, and Raph's body reacts, flinching hard as the rabbit thuds to his knees. Both paws claw into the floor for some kind of grounding hold, and sparks of yellow dance along the fur in his neck, drawing Raph's gaze to the collar that is evidently not some stupid accessory. Every muscle is tense as Karl bears through his own portable torture, then the sparks stop, and he pants, ears flat against his skull as he tries to compose himself. 

"Only a few minutes." Ferrall hisses from somewhere behind Raph, and the hothead tenses at the venom in it. "As you just experienced, a few minutes can be detrimental, Karl. Now you're ten minutes behind, so let's get on with it, shall we?" 

"Yes, sir." Karl wheezes breathlessly as he stands, refusing to make eye contact with their captive as he passes out of his line of sight. Raph knows first-hand how horrible those shocks are, and the very thought of them sends a shudder through his body. 

Then it hits him that whatever they're going to do can't be the shocks, because the set-up is different and they're behind him.

This can't be good. It can't-

"There. Yes. Do a test? Good. Now to the shell."

Just get it over with. Just getitoverwith-

"Yes, Ferrall." The dark edge is back and closer, and Raph has to fight to keep down the panic that's turning his world to static. 

"I want you to start it off nice and easy. We're only testing durability. Anything more than a crack could ruin him."

Any more than a- a what ? 

"You don't say."

Why does he always have to sound like that!?

"I'm serious, Karl. Measured swings."

SWINGS?

"Yes, Ferrall." 

WHAT IS GOING-

"Begin." 

Something solid slams his carapace and sends a shock wave through his body, like a muted gong. He gasps at the sudden force, shutting his eyes and bracing himself as it happens several times more, each swing of something more intense than the last. It quickly goes from aching discomfort to spiking bolts of pain, the dense nerves in his scutes weakening.

"Wait."

Raph realizes that he's been holding his breath when it comes out in a burst, bowing his head and hoping that Ferrall will comprehend just how bad of an idea this is, and this test would be a quick one. His shell is pretty much his spine, and even idiots know how important that is. 

Just because his spine is stronger than most people's doesn't mean that when it breaks, he won't break too!

"-when you break, he'll tear you apart, stitch you back together, and then start all over again."

Shaking fists clench. Karl's just trying to get in his head. Don't let him in, don't let him-

"Ferrall wants you because he thinks you'll be the easiest to crack."

Get out! Get out! SHUT UP-!

"-right there. Good. Continue."

He goes rigid when Ferrall's voice rings clear. No, no, no, wait, don't-

"Ahh-!" Air is ripped from his lungs as the swings rise in intensity, and his body reacts by trying to take cover within the assaulted protection, only to be forcefully held still. His instincts scream as loud as the terror, and he can barely make it out anymore, a strained whine escaping as the consistent pain rockets through each nerve. 

Then something cracks. 

He hears it just as much as he feels it, and it's not loud, but it still echoes- a deafening ringing inside of his skull that has him gasping in pain, unaware of much more than the horror. They broke his shell they broke his shell theybrokehisnonono- this can't be happening! This can't be happening! Thiscan'tbe- 

"You chirp." 

Breathing heavily, Raph's snaps to face the scientist staring him down critically from his right side, pen poised over his clipboard. "What other sounds do you make?" 

This really isn't the time to talk about - sounds? chirps? what does the even mean he doesn't- HE BROKE HIS SHELL- hasn't since he was little- badbadbadbadsobad- doesn't matter- HURTS- Why are they focuSING ON THIS HIS SHELL- 

"Hmm." Each tap on his clipboard sounds like a jackhammer, jarring him to the realization that the walls are not closing on him and nothing is on his chest preventing him from breathing- so why is it so hard- 

"You're shaking." Ferrall informs him blandly. "You're getting yourself all worked up. It was only one of your vertebral scutes. Didn't break through. So you'll live, I'll get to see if the carapace heals similarly to the plastron, and Karl won't need further discipline. Wins all around."

Since his captor is clearly an imbecile, Raph decides to pull a Donnie and elaborate before he tries this again and kills him. He has a whole line of insults and declarations, but all that comes out is a breathy- "Won't- heal."

Ferrall frowns. "It's a turtle's strongest means of defense. Logic says that a mutant turtles' shell should share the increased healing. What would be the point otherwise?"

Raph only huffs, and Ferrall considers the bit of information, eyes trailing to where his lighting bolt scar used to be. "That cut on your plastron. How long had it been there?"

"Before... I could w-alk." He tries to focus on what he's saying. Anything to distract from the pain. "Years. Small stuff... Slow- healing. Big wounds- maybe never." 

This was a part of the reason Leo's cracked shell had scared them so bad. It hadn't broke through layers, which is why it was safe to keep him unwrapped and soaking in the tub, but Donnie wasn't sure the crack was something he could heal from. 

Not a week later, their brainy brother started obsessing over the mutegenic medicine. He got no sleep, his temper was worse than ever, and no one could stand him for a solid month. Mikey managed to get him to chill out a bit, but the air of jerk never really went away. In the end, it worked better than they could have dreamed. Donnie showed Raph how much to give him, how to trigger the swallow reflex, gave two thousand reminders to be careful or he’ll choke, and then became a decent member of society again. Within a few weeks, Leo awoke.

Donnie’s aggressions were forgiven in an instant. Raph swore never to doubt anything that Donnie set his mind on.

Raph couldn't take that chance here. He had no idea when his brothers would come for him. Donnie could do a lot, but raising the dead was his limit. Nutjob may call himself a scientist, but no one can do what Donnie can.

His younger brother is a mad scientist in the best of ways, while this guy gives them a bad name. It hits him that none of them actually ever thanked Donnie for his hours slaved away over the medicine. It was barely mentioned other than Leo's complaints about the taste. 

Some days he thinks that they take Donnie for granted. 

"I said I was busy!"

"We don't do anything! What could you possibly be busy with?" 

"Avoiding your attitude, for one! I'm beginning to think it's impossible!"

"Because yours is sooo much better!"

"So leave me alone!" 

"I wish I could! But someone, won't. Fix. THE TV!" 

"You fix it! I'm tired of always fixing things around here!" 

"Why?! It's not like you're good for much else!" 

Or maybe, it's just him that took all of them for granted.

"How do I know you're not just telling me this to prevent further tests?"

Raph glares at him through misty eyes. "Would me- dyin' be enou-gh proof? Th-hen go a-head."  

"Hmm." More of the impossibly loud tapping. "I suppose it’s worth further research." He turns his head expectantly. "Karl? Escort him." 

With a swish of his lab coat, Ferrall strides from the room, and Raph's bones turn to jelly with the tidal wave of relief. It overrides the panic and stings that originate from the fact he can still feel the crack, so he doesn't bother dwelling on the knowledge that this might happen again. The pain is always there in one form or another, but relief is short lived. 

Karl mutely opens the ankle shackles before disengaging the cuff's magnetic attachment, and Raph crumbles to his hands and knees, catching himself before he collapses to the ground. The motion launches acid to his throat, and the bile that he didn't notice rising is swallowed down. 

When he's relatively certain that he's not about to spew everywhere, he looks up. He says nothing for a while, watching the collared mutant who's glaring at the lab door as if it had personally murdered everyone that he cares about. 

Raph lowers his gaze to his hands and focuses on his breathing, trying to collect his wits. The whisper comes of it's own accord. "Wh-why do y-ou work for hhim?" 

He can feel Karl's stare shift. "What?"

"Bossess you around. SShocks you. Grade A- jerk." Raph mutters to the long scar that trails from his knuckles to the bottom of his hand from where a barb got past his defenses. He can clearly picture the way Karl seemed to battle through the shocks, waiting for them to pass as if the treatment wasn't abnormal. "Why st-ahy?" 

"Where would I go?" The snarl in his voice causes Raph to cringe, expecting a physical rebuttal of some kind. He gets it, and Karl kicks his shoulder, knocking him onto his carapace. 

Pain shoots up his shell as the crack collides with the ground, and he blinks away reflexive tears, staring wearily at the leering figure. "Out there, to be cut apart by the government? Can't get a job, an apartment- can't even go outside without someone calling the police."

"Besides..." Karl steps on his wrist, and Raph gasps when the rabbit's weight crushes it. "Ferrall isn't so bad. He lets me have full reign over his pathetic experiments as long as I don't ruin them. Just doesn't like when I fail, even though some don't learn." 

Karl presses down harder and Raph hisses in pain, starting to pull himself up.

"Touch me and I break your wrist." 

He freezes, horrified eyes shooting up to meet the beedy gray, and finds that they're lit up with a twisted malice at the prospect. He clearly wants him to try and shove him off, to keep pushing so he has an excuse to grant the crippling punishment. "You don't need both today. I'm sure Ferrall will understand."

He turns his head away, untrimmed talons digging into his palm of his free hand as he tries to ignore the new source of pain, choking on air when Karl grinds it into the floor. "But I guess you can learn, can't you? Probably why Ferrall gives you the time of day. More brains than most specimens. Just need some proper insensitive." 

It feels like it's only a little more pressure away from snapping when the foot is removed, and he immediately rolls on his side to cradle it to his chest, shielding it from the rabbit's sight. 

It doesn't make sense anymore.

Raph made a show of not caring, but he never actually liked hurting the lowlifes. 

Not- not really. Not like this. He just- 

He had too. 

He's known that humans would try to hurt his family since he was small enough to comprehend that not everyone was green or furry. He’d seen the way Splinter bled from a bullet wound when he was the ripe age of five years old, pale and wrapping his arm in bandages as he said that it was only an accident, refusing to look Raph in the eyes.

Mikey kissed the boo-boo, Donnie fiddled with the first aid, and Leo looked at Raph like Raph looked at him.

They knew he was lying.

The next time he went out, Leo and Raph talked their brothers into a turtle pile.

They didn’t understand, all laughs and giggles and whispers. Leo relaxed as the night pressed on, snuggling into Mikey’s octopus hold and falling straight asleep. Donnie snoozed on his shoulder, hugging a pillow and mumbling about gears.

Raph stayed up until Splinter came home, eyes burning and fists tight.

He fell asleep to his father’s fond hand against his forehead.

“Thank you for watching out, my brave son. Rest now.” 

Raph knew he wasn’t the best person in the universe. He made his fair share of mistakes when his temper gets the better of him. Sometimes he can’t help it. He gets uncontrollable when things become too much, because the anger and sorrow is eating him up inside, and he lashes out. He decided early that this didn’t have to be a bad thing.

When he was the loudest, meanest voice, people looked at him instead of his brothers. He learned to push back so his brothers didn't have to. He does it to protect- himself, his family, their friends, New York- 

Raph'd thought maybe Karl was in the same boat.

An emotional guy being forced to hurt people. A normal person told that he’s something that he’s not. Brainwashed into acting like the monster that Nutjob was convinced they were. Maybe he didn’t want to be here any more than Raph did. Maybe there was more to it. But… Karl treats it like it's so simple.

Like willingly participating in brutal violence is the obvious choice no matter how you looked at it. 

He can't understand. It doesn't make sense. 

"...Why?" 

The sides of his jaw are grasped, and he knows that means he wants Raph to look at him, so he peels open his eyes to take in the mocking sneer. "I'm a freakshow, remember? Just a big old freak in a house of bigger freaks. So I'd say I fit in around here juuust fine." 

He tosses him like a misused ragdoll and Raph's hands fly out to keep him from skidding, blooding smearing from the marks in his palm. He lifts them to stare blankly at his hands, one bleeding and one fuzzy with biting pins-and-needles, and then his body numbly slumps in defeat, forehead rest against the cool floor. 

"Great. Now I have to clean that up." Karl grumbles as his head is raised and the blindfold is tied. Raph's arms move of their own accord to lock together. "Whatever. I'll worry about it after I get you to the tank." 

Raph stirs, trying to process the revelation. "W-what?" 

"Get to your feet. We're moving." 

What? What? No. Nonono- wait- they're done. He's done. It's done- they're taking a break, they're done- he's done- it's not fair why can't he get a break this one time, please, please- hurts it hurts everything hurts- this one time why can't he finally just be done- 

"I said. Get. UP."

***

They do this constantly- chucking him into this deep pool of water and leaving him there until he's hanging on the edge of a thread, desperate for just one gulp of life-giving air. 

Sometimes, they stay on the top of the stairway and, sometimes, like now, one or both of them stand on the other side of the transparent wall and stares.

Sometimes, Ferrall injects something first, and sometimes, he feels it, but sometimes, he doesn't get the privilege of knowing what's happening until his blood burns or adrenaline kicks in for no reason, forcing his body to act on impulse. 

Ferrall likes to wait, seated comfortably on a cushioned chair and always working on something to pass the time, snapping into attention the moment any kind of reaction begins. 

It doesn't take many sessions for Raph to realize that the faint hisses and whines that prickle recognition of stop and help are coming from him, and if Ferrall's to be taken seriously, they're involuntary cries that can only be heard because the water makes them echo. 

It's embarrassing, that they happen suddenly and scare him each time. He wishes he could stop himself from making them. 

Even though Ferrall can't speak turtle, it's not hard to guess why he's making the pitiful sounds. 

He has no choice but to hope that Nutjob knows what he's doing, throwing him into the pool with a crack in his shell, but despite being a scientist, he's a pretty huge moron, so Raph won't be making any bets on it. 

His lungs feel like they're contracted inwards as Karl enters the room from a door behind Nutjob, evidently done cleaning the blood from the floor, or whatever else he does when he's not tormenting captives.

Raph blinks sleepily, staring down at his wrapped hand and the blotch of red along the bandages on his palm. Nutjob thought he'd injured himself so he didn't have to go in, but was more than happy to defy that expectation. Karl let Nutjob believe it, a smug smirk shadowing his features as the rabbit shoved him into the water.

He hadn't moved since he hit the ground, and the water had warmed long ago, comforting and familiar in a way that he can't explain.

Raph thinks maybe he drifts off at some point, because he's jerked into reality when there's a sharp tug around his shell, and he gasps.

Water rushes in as he clamps his mouth shut, coughs trying to escape as his lungs beg to be allowed to get rid of the liquid that should not be taking the place of air. He scrambles to get up, but his abused wrist fails to hold his weight and he crumples, lunged down by the liquid in his lungs as a shrill, desperate whine echoes throughout the water. 

His body leaves the firm contact with the ground, and he can't tell if he's rising or sinking as the water whirls around him. Fear consumes his senses as he thrashes, frantically trying to get whatever's holding him in the water off, and then he's exhaling in harsh coughs. 

He sucks in an inward breath before he can stop himself, bringing with it an inexplicable, impossible fire that burns down his throat and into his lungs-

His body falls limp. 

The fear dissipates as if it was never there, and suddenly the spinning water isn't quite so terrifying.

It's almost soothing, like the water is taking the chaos in his mind and embracing it to just letting him float. Tiny bubbles rise above him, new specks of white clouding his view as his eyes start to flicker shut-

-two hands grab hold of the shoulder straps and yank him free of the water. 

He land roughly as he's tossed on a firm surface. The force against his carapace launches a stream of water from his mouth, spewed into the air, only to spray all over his face and surroundings. The burning begins all over again, like he swallowed acid instead of water and it's coating every inch of his chest, and then his face is being forced to the side. 

The sharp click of unbuckled metal. An aggressive slam against his plastron causes new pain, gasping and choking as he coughs out more water, body shivering as every desperate attempt to get rid of the liquid burns more than the last.

It's excruciating, and he wants whoever's doing it to put him back in the water- put him back please put him back- where things were finally calm and quiet and everything had stopped hurting- it hurts- 

A blur of gray hovers over him as the harness is removed, a strangely muffled voice shouting as he's turned onto his chest. Most of the water is out, but his body continues trying to heave and purge whatever else it can, a weak, agonized sob escaping as he curls up in the puddle of water and sick that came from inside him. 

"-sgusting- move him!" 

In a moment a clarity, he recognizes the voice, reality flooding back as furred paws matted down by water grab his shoulders and drag him further from the tank. The tank he'd almost drowned in. He’d almost drowned. They'd almost killed him.

He'd almost died. 

"-im off- becomes ill- urtle! He- know better-"

He was almost free. 

He's leaned against something metallic and cold as his cuffs lock together, faint wheezes escaping with every breath. Something travels down his shoulder, thick and sticky, and a gag hits the back of his throat. He keels over, swallowing so rapidly that he almost forgets to breathe. He watches as the water ripples die down, calmer now that his troubles belong only to him once more. 

He tries to take a deep breath, but the acid stings down his throat. His body isn't ready for the new dose of air, and he breaks into a fit of coughs that cause his lungs to burn all over again. He would have fallen over if there wasn't a steady hand on his shoulder, keeping him from knocking his skull against the floor.

When he regains the ability to hold himself up, something coarse, but soft is dragged over aching skin and scales. He pants raggedly, wheezing and swallowing, trembling with the impossible chill deep in his bones.

His face is gone over, but then his cheeks become wet again, watching the world pass by but not quite taking it in. 

Ferral is pacing. Karl is begrudgingly wiping him off. Ferrall speaks. Karl looks at him and shrugs. Ferrall shouts, striding over to them. Karl moves. Ferrall sets down the clipboard. Ferrall stares at him, frustrated and cold. Ferrall raises a hand and snaps his fingers. Ferrall snaps again. Ferrall speaks, a harsh command- and reaches- no, wait, don't touch-!

He flinches away from the offending hand and Ferrall frowns, "You were not responding, Raphael. Are you back?"

He never got to leave. 

"Raphael." 

Fear zips through him as he realizes he's being addressed and he nods jerkily, as if doing it for the first time. 

"Good." 

Ferrall touches him anyway, and Raph's head sags, letting the examination happen because there's nothing he can do to stop it, especially not with Karl hovering directly behind Ferrall. His gaze falls on the clipboard, and he sees a string of numbers- of times- that squirm and dance before his eyes. He spots one higher than the rest, and he can't help the stir of amusement, a snort followed by a round of coughs. 

Fifty-two minutes. That'll show 'em. 

His vision spots and he can't feel his shivering body anymore.

Sharp commands ring out, merged together and distant. 

Why can't they shut up- shut up- he's so tired- 

"Raphael, I need yo- reathe. -ael, I need- liste-"

He's so...

"Raphael!" 

Notes:

And so ends the physical torment era!

But where do we go from here…?

FIND OUT IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF DIGIMON DIGITAL MONSTERS-

*que theme song*

Chapter 17: Trying To Understand

Summary:

Raph would like to go home now.

Too bad his brothers aren't that eager to get him there.

At least they tried, right?

...Right?

Notes:

What if I told you this was one of my top three fav chapters (As of everything written so far).

How many of you were dosed in cold dread?

More importantly, how many of you are excited?

Don't kid yourselves. I may be the writer, but you are all part of the problem.

But I will spend a lifetime 

Trying to understand 

Why someone sharing my bloodline 

Would not lend me their hand

***

The first time that he remembers waking up; he's alone. 

There's an IV in his arm and one of those oxygen masks morphed to fit over his beak. It doesn't take long for him to realize that he's strapped down and every breath hurts. 

He doesn't know how he got here but he knows it was bad- memories muddled and overlapping as panic corrodes them, dragged under by past sensations of gagging- choking- acid swimming in his throat as his mouth is held shut, forced to swallow liquids that blaze through his insides like wildfire- 

This is pain- he's in pain. It hurts- it hurts - he's in danger. He's not safe- thIS HE ISN'T SAFE- 

He bucks and thrashes in the clutches of a delirious panic, and father's name is the first to break the confines of his stinging throat. It feel like he's swallow glass, and all he wants is to get free and locate his brothers, because- nononono- if he's hurt and not safe then they could be hurt not safe not safe- hurting hurt- not safe- HURT NOT-

He's hissing and whining and screaming when a blob of white enters his blurring vision, but he's not actually saying. Anything.

He has so much that he needs to get out, so much terror and fury that commands someone's attention. His face is wet and his vision is blurry and he can't move. His brothers are in danger and he's stuck and hurting and can't get free trapped trapped scared stop- 

He wants his brothers- he needs his brothers- Needs needs needsneedsneedsnee-

There's a voice, but it's not them. Not them- Not THEM- Leo Mikey Donnie give them back give them back give them BACK- 

Ugly coughs burst free, so hard and sudden that each inhale sears intolerable pain. There's a razor slicing his throat and acid in his lungs, tearing at his brain like the sobs that wrack his chest. His body wants nothing more than to pass out, but he stays awake on willpower alone, screaming audibly but wordlessly for his family through the tears and pain and fury and a needle entering flesh-

He wakes up. 

It's in the exact same room in the exact same way, only his memories flood back before mindless panic has a chance to sink in. His head is strapped down as well, the not-table standing him upright and allowing him a clear view of the silent form tapping away at his laptop. 

Ferrall doesn't turn, and Raph lets his eyelids flicker shut. 

His tongue is heavy and he can't feel his limbs, but he can't find the energy to care. There's a taunting migraine thrumming in the back of his skull, and the room has to be far too bright for anyone with vision to find remotely comfortable. There's barely any sensation keeping him attached to reality, even as he fights against slipping into the density of sleep. 

He wakes up. 

This repeats more times than he can keep track of. He can't feel anything, and his mind and body won't listen to him anymore. He latches onto the relief that being unresponsive means no more tests, and training, and pain. 

It's not worth it to fight the endless loop, so he doesn't. 

When he's awake, he's barely present enough to realize he's conscious at all.

The few times Ferrall caught him with his eyes open; he'd been chided and scolded like a toddler.

Because, obviously, as a reptilian, Raph should have known better than to drown.

It doesn't matter that his human instincts had been the ones to kick in. The way that Nutjob complained, anyone would have thought he'd purposefully decided to take a quick nap, or that he should have psychically sensed the harness would jolt in their efforts to wake him up.

He wonders how the wacko can seriously believe that none of it was his fault.

Doesn't matter. Nutjob can keep whining for all he cares.

It's not easy to fall asleep on the icy floor- much less with every limb aching and adrenaline coursing through his blood, constantly anticipating the moment when he'll be dragged off to the next round of torment and horrors. He was tired. 

It's degrading, and uncertain guilt trickles behind the churning shame. It's not long before Ferrall is muffled by the beckoning of sleep. 

When he's asleep, he never really knows it until he's waking up. At first, he barely recalls anything while between sleep and wakefulness. Nothing more than snippets of voices, or someone adjusting his limbs or taking his pulse. 

Then, he began having the dreams. Dreams twisted from past memories, of being sick or injured at home and doted on in all the ways that he finds exhausting. Mikey making him soups and bringing him comics. Donnie checking his temperature, rambling about everything and nothing that matters, constantly readjusting his pillows or blankets. Leo dragging him to the main room to 'keep on eye on him' while getting ready to marathon a few hours of Space Heroes, giving him a pillar of safety to fall asleep next too. 

He hates them. The dreams and the fake brothers. He hates that he actually believes he's home and continually wakes up with the planted idea that his brothers are nearby, only to discover a harsh reality. That ache in his chest cuts deeper than anything else has. 

A flush of anger warms his body to an almost disorienting extent. It brings him to his senses. 

Coming out of the numb stupor, he slowly raises his eyes from the floor and squints at the bright room around him. He's still in the lab, not that he expected to be anywhere else. There's a familiar clipboard on the table lining the wall across the room, but no mad scientists or mutant henchmen. The area is completely vacant. 

He's awake... With no supervision...

Which is... Weird, right?  

He flexes his hands, letting out a relieved breath when they respond naturally. All things considered, he actually feels pretty okay. Nothing aches or throbs and breathing isn't a struggle- which makes him wonder how long he's been unconscious for. 

There's no hope of getting free, but his heart rate picks up, adrenaline urging him to brush off the last of drugged sleep. His gaze travels around the room with sudden unease, wondering if some kind of mistake had been made, or if this is a test or study. If so, then why leave him restrained? He can't do anything like this.

There aren't any cameras but that doesn't mean that Ferrall isn't watching. He's a creep who's always watching. Is he supposed to do something? He wasn't told to do anything. Or, he doesn't remember being told. How is he supposed to remember anything in a drugged stupor? He can't; that's how. And Karl can't discipline if Raph isn't told, right? Right! He hasn't done anything wrong so he can't-

Oh. Oh no.

Raph growls low in his throat as his talons dig into the not-table, breaking through the fabric. He embraces the new frustration, letting it overwhelm the panic. No. No! What's wrong with him!? He sounds like a total pushover! Nutjob's been trying to get in his head and he's letting him! 

Seriously! Pointless paranoia is supposed to be Leo's thing!

Well. Maybe Leo or Mikey. Mikey's always been pretty good at attracting trouble or blowing missions, especially when he's freaked out. So at least he's got a good reason to be a whimp. Some days it's unbelievable that he can handle the stealth part of being a ninja. 

Knucklehead...

His heart pulsates in aching nostalgia, bringing an unexpected spike of pain. He wonders how long it's been since he last saw them. Why hadn't they found him yet? How hard could it be to locate some multi-level lab building run by the mafia? Did something happen? 

Were they hurt? Caught?

Another pained beat. Could Nutjob be after more turtles than just him? 

Are they-

"YAAAA-" 

A loud crash echoes through the room, directly followed by a startled shriek, and all Raph's fears about tests and punishments come crashing down on him. He doesn't know what to expect when he turns to the sound, trembling and ready for the latest definition to the word pain.

He certainly didn't expect his youngest brother, sitting up and rubbing his head on top of a large vent cover. 

Raph's mouth falls open in a numb disbelief, unable to process more than- was there always a vent there? 

"Ever heard of stealth?" Raph's gaze shoots to the square hole above Mikey, finding a familiar huffy gaze planted on the youngest. "Some ninja. Why don't you find some alarm to set off? Attract the whole building to our location?" 

Donnie! They got to him! 

Mikey looks up, a proclamation clearly on the tip of his tongue, when he subconsciously glances to the side and locks eyes with the wide emerald gaze that's half-scared to blink him away. He grins proudly and scrambles forward, skidding in front of Raph to gasp, "I found him!"

His smile is infectious, and Raph decides it's better than crying anyway. An airy laugh escapes and he looks back to the vent, two more turtles dropping to the floor with a soft clang. The resounding chorus of "Raph!" is probably the best thing that he's heard in... Ever. 

"Guys!" He knows it's going to sound so cliche, but he can't help the instinct to cover how absolutely amazing it is to see them. "Finally! What took you so long?"

Donnie rolls his eyes as he moves to the control panel like a moth to a flame, and Leo almost seems stiff as he states, "Long story. How do we get those off?"

"That panel. I'm not really sure how-"

"Got it." Directly after Donnie's announcement, Raph feels the shackles release. Mikey unbuckles the leather strap and Raph practically falls on his younger brother, clutching his biceps as he fights to get his legs to support him. 

"Careful bro." Mikey instructs as he allows Raph to get his footing, worried gaze shooting between him and the ground until he's able to steady himself. Mikey catches sight of the metal around his arm, mouth falling open. "He put cuffs under your cuffs? Dude's obsessed."

"You're telling me." 

Raph lets go, and he expects Mikey to re-initiate contact. It wouldn't be the first time he tackled him into a hug and blabbered about how long he was gone or how worried they'd been without bothering to ask permission- not that Raph'd refuse the hug, because he wouldn't mind further proof that they are really, physically there- but his little brother steps back. 

And he stands there, frozen a moment before he decides that it would be too embarrassing to actually ask for something that childish, so he lowers his arms. Donnie enters his space to lift them back up, examining the metal that's practically skin-tight. 

Raph's stomach twists with a confused bitterness. Leo frowns. "You look horrible."

"No kidding." Irration flashes and it comes out harsher than he means it too. "Haven't exactly been staying in a five star hotel."

"Chill, Raph." Donnie chides distractedly. "I'm sure you haven't seen a mirror in some time, but you don't look like a particularly healthy turtle."

"'Sides, is that any way to greet your heros?" Mikey pouts with crossed arms. 

Raph swallows down the new guilt. First time seeing his brothers in- forever, and the first thing he does is jump down their throat? What's he even got to be mad about? He probably does look horrible. "Yeah. Whatever. Can we just get out of here?"

"Soon as we can." Leo affirms. Their gazes lock and Raph can't read Leo's. He hates that with everything in him, though he can't explain why, and Leo breaks eye contact to turn to their brainy brother. "Don?" 

"No trackers, but those aren't coming off any time soon." Donnie releases Raph and steps back to plant himself by Leo. Mikey's on Leo's other side, but Raph feels like there's a distance between him and them that's way longer than it obviously is. 

He desperately wants to close it, but he shoves the feeling down.

 Donnie looks to their leader. "I can't find a purpose for it. I believe it can wait until we get back."

"Actually, they're-"

"Then we make our way out. Me and Donnie will take the lead; Mikey, on Raph." 

Raph clamps his mouth shut and stares at the immediate dismissal. Was that on purpose? Did he not hear him? How could he not hear him?! He's standing right here!

The notion of being ignored rubs at a sore spot, and he does his best to squash the familiar annoyance before it can fester, reminding himself that they're here to save him. 

Leo's distracted trying to make sure everyone gets out. What kind of ungrateful jerk would yell at him for that? Especially since he was the one who messed up and got captured. 

...Is- Leo upset with him? Is that why he's so... Off? 

He did make it so they were all in an enemy's den. 

Maybe Leo has a right to be angry...

Weapons come out and his brothers start to move, but Raph's mouth opens. "My sais?"

The brothers look between them. Leo shrugs. "Must have forgot."

"Forgot?" The accusation is obvious. Leo bristles. "They slipped our mind. We were a little busy trying to hunt you down."

"How am I supposed to fight?" Raph shoots back because that just feels like poor planning. 

"Not every plan involves violence." Leo snaps back. "Sometimes it's a good idea to run away from the men with guns. Or did you forget years of stealth training?"

Raph forgets his rebuttal of how they all have their weapons out and geared for a fight, his heart pounding as his thoughts spin. Not because he's wrong; he's not wrong, but Leo wasn't there, none of them were, how could he possibly- 

Mikey shifts uncomfortably. "Dudes, come on." 

"This is not the time." Donnie agrees, his attention on the leader. "Can you please do this later?"

Raph has to know. "But how-"

"Everything doesn't have to be an argument!" Donnie whirls to glare at him. "Why do you have to make everything difficult? In case you didn't notice, we are attempting to rescue you. Can't you hold your temper for five minutes?" 

Conflicting emotions squirm as he clamps his mouth shut. 

What is wrong with him? They spend all this time looking for him, and he's thanking them by pushing their buttons and getting them bent out of shape. They need to get out of there, but he's holding them back with dumb questions that can wait. 

When he remains stunned into silence, his brothers start moving again, and he looks back to the open vent. Refusing to question the plan that Leo must have thought through before they arrived, he follows them to the lab door. 

They slip into the hall, and Raph can't help but tense. He expects a guard at every turn, but the hallway is suspiciously empty. He knows there should be more, and he wonders if Ferrall knew his brothers were coming. Is there some sort of trap? Shouldn't he say something?

"Guys-"

"What now?" Leo turns to glare at him and Raph wonders if this is how Mikey always feels. 

"There should be more goons." He grumbles. "Like, a lot more."

The glare fades some and a vengeful sort of satisfaction prompts him to pass the leader a knowing look. Ha. Useful information, isn't it? 

"How sure are you?" 

"There's always some around." Raph assures. "And a mutant bunny."

"A mutant's working with them?" Mikey questions in surprise, before Leo argues, "Why would the mafia do that?"

"Not work with- work for." Raph insists. "He's as nuts as Nutjob and does whatever he says."

Leo's brow furrows. "Who?"

Oh, yeah. Uh- "Ferrall? Crazy scientist, lab coat. Runs this place."

His brothers pause to stare at him, and despite all reasoning, it clicks for Mikey first. "You named a baddie without me?!"

"You weren't here," Raph deflects simply, flashing the scowl a smirk. "Shoulda come sooner if you wanted naming dibs."

Leo shakes his head and peeks around a corner. Donnie looks between duo exchanging smirks and glares before sighing, "Back to things that actually matter... I can't speak for mutant bunnies, but Ferrall shouldn't know we're here. He shouldn't even be here." 

Leo nods acknowledgement as they start moving again, and Raph adds, "The bunny- Karl-"

Mikey's tone drips with disgust. "Karl?"

"Trust me; not my idea."

Mikey sniffs and juts out his chin, so Raph continues, "Karl is like violent guard dog. Like, really violent. Breaks bones for fun, violent. He's large and fast and-"

"We'll handle him." Leo slows and they follow his lead. 

Raph is about to demand that they don't underestimate Karl because he's straight psycho, but Mikey reassures, "Raph, it's cool! Leo's got it all figured out!" 

Leo taps the elevator button and it slides open. His brothers rush inside and, unable to believe that he's being told off by Mikey of all turtles, he stomps after them. The moment the door shuts, Raph snaps, "Does he? Because this plan is pretty lame!"

"Oh, yeah?" Leo's eyes narrow. "And how's that?" 

Donnie groans. "Not again." 

Raph pointedly ignores him. "You realize we're about to walk right into an ambush, right? Pretty sure Ferrall has a thing for those!"

"Ambush was always a possibility." Leo taps a button and it glows a bright green. "We have one shot at this, Raphael. If you could stop being a hindrance, that would be intensely helpful. Unless you'd like us to leave you to be a guinea pig pig for the rest of your life?" 

"Of course, I don't! Why would anyone-" He suddenly processes what he said, and teeters between angry and confused. "W-wait. What does that mean?"

"We can't keep coming back here. Placing ourselves in the hands of the enemy. Putting the family at risk like this. Ferrall wants you." Raph's heart sinks. "I wasn't even sure coming here was worth it, but I figured we had to at least try."

Leo might as well be quoting from a script with how calm and grim his tone is. It cuts deep, and Raph can only shake his head slowly, unable to process what he's implying. They're not- they can't seriously- 

"If we came once, they'll expect us to come again. The chances of finding you again are pretty low, much less managing a possible break-out." Donnie supplies helpfully, twisting the blade further in. "If we manage to get out of here at all." 

"I don't really want to have all my insides put in jars." Mikey admits softly, and Raph's heart jumps because he can't stand the thought either, choking at the array of all-too vivid images flooding in- Mikey splayed out on one of the not-tables, blood on Ferrall's gloves and his plastron in pieces, a still-beating heart being set in a clear jar, near the rest of his- 

"It's too big of a risk." Leo saves him from the scene that he could practically see unfolding before him, and Raph's reminded of reality. He meets his older brother's gaze, lost and pleading. 

Leo doesn't look away. "You don't really expect us to take that kind of a risk just for you?" 

They're serious. They're...

His shoulders slump and he looks away, surrendering against something that he could never ask. Leo continues on. "Goons, mutant, ambush- whatever is coming, we're here now, so we're getting out of this. We know what we're doing." 

Leo really doesn't. And if they only get one shot at this- 

"Karl's insane! He- You don't know what he's like!" 

"Can't be too different from the other crazies." Leo shrugs dismissively. "Just another mutant who wants us dead." He swirls his sword a bit. "I'm sure we can handle some mafia brute."

"He's not just some brute!"

"They're always brutes." Donnie huffs. "Seriously, Raph, we got it."

"Why aren't you listening to me?!" 

"You're letting him get in your head." Something in Leo's voice flickers, but then it's the usual flat judgement. "You're letting him scare you."

"I'm not-!" 

"You've only been here a few days, and they already have you under their thumb." Donnie accuses, his voice darkening unnaturally. "We've known you for years, and we hardly ever get you to listen." 

"It's not- I'm not- they don't- I-I-" 

Raph doesn't know why he's pushing this on them- they'd dealt with insane mutants before- but he doesn't like the idea of Karl brutalizing them. He can't stand the thought of Karl looking at them the same way that he looks at him- like he was a twig to be snapped, or a bug that he took pleasure in ripping off the wings. 

He just doesn't know how to explain that. "They don't! I mean it! He's not like other mutants. He's more than a brute- he- he threatened to beat me for kicks!" 

"So, exactly what you do to us." Donnie points out blandly. 

Raph's brain stalls. "W-What?" 

"You heard me." The sardonic tone matches the hard stare. "I mean, sounds pretty familiar, doesn't it?" 

"You really think yelling is going to help?" 

"No, I think hitting is going to help." 

"I'm supposed to discipline his projects."

Raph's breath catches, and Mikey decides, "If he's like Raph, then dude's probably more bark than bite."

"You should see your face! You look so mad right now-" 

"Okay, Spike, you'll love this show. It's called- Does Mikey bend that way?" 

"Who's to say one night when Doc is out, I don't decide to use them? Stage a little escape attempt? Have a little fun of my own, hmm?" 

Leo smirks wryly. "Like I said. Just a brute." 

"What gives?!"

"I'm tired of training with kid gloves! No one's pulling punches out there! Why should we do it in here?!" 

"If you're such a goody-goody, how come your little tool here is the perfect length to do this!"

The elevator dings and Raph jumps. The words seem to echo around them, merging and separating like a horrific chant, but his brothers don't acknowledge them. Mikey pulls him back and Raph allows it, a cold shudder brushing down his spine. 

The elevator opens to a barred door, which opens to reveal a warehouse full of boxes and assorted objects. The room is dimly lit, offering plenty of shadows for evil to lurk in. He can't even see past them- it's like the edges of the room are swallowed by the darkness. 

Raph brings his arms to his chest, heart pounding as Leo creeps out with Donnie directly behind.

He doesn't feel remotely safe anymore. He takes a step back. 

There's a horrible feeling sinking down his gut like slime, and all he wants is to find somewhere to hide. The Room- The lab- Ferrall didn't punish him when he evaded during his escape; he'd probably avoid punishment if he goes back now. But- but that'd be like giving up an-and he can't abandon his brothers. He can't let Ferrall have them; he can't let Karl find them- him- he can't- 

He approaches the elevator doors, gathering the courage to urge Leo and Donnie back, looking out into the darkness that's thick and daunting. They are too close to it, too close to danger, too close to-

Raph's cuffs lock.

He gulps in a horrified breath, snapping up to glance out to any high points because he knows- he KNOWS- HE'S OUT THERE-

Mikey snatches Raph's elbow to tug him out and Raph fails to plant his feet, dragged into the open before he can find his voice. "M-mikey, wait-!" 

Just as easily as Mikey grabbed Raph, they are torn away as a blur of grey barrels into his little brother. Karl kicks him into a stack of boxes, and his carapace slams through them, spreading them out around him as he hits the wall and disappears into the black. 

"MIKEY!"

He pays for his wasted cry when Karl grabs his shoulder and throws him, sending him rolling to the ground, skidding on his carapace. He gasps for the air that is knocked out of his system, and then Karl is leering over him, the claws of his brass knuckles digging into his chin. "That wouldn't have been your brother, wouldn't it? One of the ones who were going to break you out? Kick my butt?"

He moves closer, and one of the spikes breaks skin, a trickle of blood traveling down his neck. "If you ask me, I'm going to be the one doing all the kicking. Hitting, punching, cutting- all the good stuff. Won't that be fun?"

"Leave them alone!" Raph practically begs, unable to swallow the terror and fury fighting for dominance in his gut. He doesn't dare move despite how much he wants that statement to come with a solid punch to the muzzle, and Karl's twisted grin widens. "Honestly, you should be glad, Raphael. With the fresh meat, you can finally have a little break-"

"Excuse me!" Karl jolts to the side as Donnie dives from a high perch of boxes, eyes white as he whirls the staff in one hand. Karl raises his hands to block, and Donnie spares no force slamming the staff into his arms, knocking him a few feet. "Sorry to disappoint, but he's coming with us!"

"Donnie!"

"Raph, are you-" Donnie glances at him, and then to his arms, eyes widening in understanding. "So that's what they-"

"Focus!" Raph demands in panic, moving away when Karl steps forward ominiously. "Sorry? Oh, you're going to be sorry, all right." 

Raph knows that pose, and he knows that look. "Don, he's gonna-!"

Karl launches himself across the distance, tackling his younger brother on his carapace.

Donnie adapts swiftly, lifting his staff between them as he hits the ground, turning his head to avoid a blow to the face. Karl's hand connects with the ground, a frustrated growl escaping, and he grabs the staff to try and yank it free. Donnie's glare narrows as he stops pulling and slams it upward, returning the favor with a wooden blow to the muzzle. 

Raph's heart leaps to his throat, stricken in place by the battle unfolding in front of him.

Karl shouts and Donnie knees his gut, attempting to throw his weight off.

It works, but Karl manages to yank the bo staff free, throwing it the moment that he reaches his feet. Raph watches as it flies across the room, only to be swallowed up by the far shadows. 

It's then that he remembers that he should be more than a spectator in this rescue.  His head snaps back to the danger, and finds Donnie cornered by a large stack of boxes, panic settling in as Karl leers over him. He almost seems bigger than before, like he's growing, but Raph knows that just his fear taking over. He ignores it, focusing on the swirling shock in his younger brother's eyes. 

He knew this would happen! He told them! He'd told those idiots but they never listen! They never do- He knew they'd underestimate Karl and then they'd get hurt! Karl hurt him and now Karl was going to HURT THEM -

His hands lower unprevented. A growl rips from his throat, the burning pressure on his chest making each breath heavy, taloned hands flexing as the weight encourages an immediate and satisfying form of release. 

No. 

No, he's not.

Raph's played this game a million times, and there's only one thing that's going to relieve it, so he does as ever fiber of his being demands. Use it. 

"HEY FREAKSHOW!"

Karl spins as Raph closes the distance and leaps, elbow catching him around the neck as he snatches his ears, using the momentum to force the rabbit into the ground. Karl's spine and skull hits, and he cries out, but Raph's carapace takes the blunt, allowing him to roll to his feet and hurry for his frozen brother. 

He grabs his wrist and throws him forward, uncertain how long Karl will stay down. "Move!"

"Raph, your cuffs-?!" 

Raph shoves him as they start running, assuming that he's about to make some nerdy remark that no one but him cares about. The last thing they need is to draw attention to his open cuffs, because if Karl remembers to lock them, he's going to be a lot less helpful in getting out of there.

He smothers the spike of uncertainty that spawns as he focuses on the much more imminent danger. "Not now, Donnie!"

"But Raph, they-!"

His brother's voice sounds funny, mixed with something disorienting and gruffer, but Raph ignores it, shoving him a second time. "I SAID NOT NOW!"

Donnie takes off and Raph hits the ground, realizing that something caught around his leg as he spins to face his sneering captor. "Going somewhere?"

Panic and anger swell in a familiar desperation, and he reacts with it, rolling forward and throwing himself at him. Karl releases his leg in surprise, and Raph knocks him on his back, a sharp hiss warning him off as talons sink into the flesh around his jaw. He throws a punch. Raph ducks his head and raises his shoulder to block, letting the blow land.

Raph then grabs the hand, slamming it down on his own skull.

Karl's body spasms with the pain, knocking Raph's grip loose. Karl takes advantage to grab his face and throw him off, and Raph lands on his side, trembling and panting as he props his body on one arm. He desperately scans the room, and finds his brothers on a dizzyingly high stack of boxes, just as Leo ushers Mikey out the window.

"GUYS!"

Donnie pauses, but their leader urges him through, and he obeys without further hesitation. Raph watches in shock, the eldest brother's words ringing in his brain, echoing impossibly through the room.

"We have one shot at this, Raphael. If you could stop being a hindrance, that would be intensely helpful. Unless you'd like us to leave you to be a guinea pig pig for the rest of your life?"

Raph unsteadily climbs to his feet, stumbling as Leo's gaze lands on him. 

"We can't keep coming back here. Placing ourselves in the hands of the enemy. Putting the family at risk like this. Ferrall wants you."

His older brother rises from his crouched position, katana firmly in his hand, and Raph doesn't know why he suddenly has the overwhelming urge to cry, shaky voice pleading, "Leo! Brother!"

"I wasn't even sure coming here was worth it, but I figured we had to at least try."

Leo's eyes harden, and he turns away. 

"It's too big of a risk."

Raph can't breathe, taking off to the stack that seems millions of miles out, hands outstretched to the turned back of a brother who only seems to be getting further away. "Leo! No, wait, please! GUYS- NO! WAIT, COME BACK, PLEASE, LEO-!"

"You don't really expect us to take that kind of a risk just for you?" 

Raph trips.

He lands hard and his own talons slash his arm when he tries to catch himself, drawing a pained gasp and slivers of blood. The overlapping agony is ignored as he lifts himself up, looking back to the window to find it empty. 

"It's too big of a risk."

He's gone.

"It's too big of a risk."

He's GONE.

"It's too big of a risk."

GoneGONEGONEGONE HE THEY JUST LEFT-

He screams. 

He shrieks the anguish as his fist slams into the ground, hunched over to expel the conflicting emotions from his system because there's no way NO WAY NONONO- He wouldn't leave- HE LEFT- He'd NEVER- NOT NEVER NOT Donnie Mikey Leo- NOT LEO- LEO- GONE- HE DIDN'T- GONEGONEGO- HE'S NOT-

Raph's thrown on his carapace, shocked when air brushes against the tears staining his face, grunting as a knee digs into his torso, a hand enclosing around his throat. A whine and hiss combine in a pleaded warning, talons latching into his assailants shoulder, tearing at the fur and skin when the pressure increases. 

"You really think I'm going to let you escape?" Karl snarls manically, a grin stretching unnaturally on his features. The shadows around them darken the area to the point that Raph can't see anything but the demented mutant above him. "You think you're ever getting out of here? You think you can beat me? Please! You're nothing. A freak his own family doesn't want!"

The haze that blurs the mutant clears as he blinks them free. He chokes as his airway stays close, frantically digging his talons into bones, desperate to get his assailant to release or shut up-

"You're Ferrall's now. Ferrall's to stab and hit and cut and break and kill."

He leans closer as Raph's vision begins blackening, but he's not sure if it's from the lack of air or the shadows that are swallowing Karl, tendrils creeping over the both of them. 

"Or maybe, he'll let me do the honors."

He wakes up.

Notes:

This chapter was originally supposed to be a "lemme convince the audience that the brothers are there and then OH NO it was just a dream all along" but I decided that having the audience dreading every second fully aware that Raph is completely delusional was way more fun.

Chapter 18: Some Things Are Meant

Summary:

My favorite thing about Ferrall is that he’s not some guy who laughs maniacally in the mirror after a successful experiment.

He has a day job and he has his hobbies.

He does what he do and it’s that simple.

A rich Average Joe, yk?

Notes:

Don’t mind this POV. It’s my story and I’m feeling a lil’ selfish today.

Sometimes an author just needs a dose of subtle angst/horror.

Wings, hearts

Some things are meant to be torn apart

Faith, hope

Some things are meant to be gone broke

***

"I understand the inconvenience, but as I am currently in New York, attending any form of gathering within the next five hours will be incredibly difficult." 

"They refused to reschedule. I tried to-" 

"I am not a slave to my investors. If they want to go to a meeting where I am not present, I will not stop them. Show them to a boardroom. Let them wait." 

"That's not going to go over-" 

"I cannot drop everything merely because Mrs. Budare mixed up her calend-" 

"She said you approved-"

"Do not interrupts me." 

"Sorry, sir."

Ferrall extends the silence, determined to make him stew in his mistake. "...I will speak to her about her error when I have the time. I am paid for progress and I will not halt it for new blood."

"Of course, sir."

He readjusts the phone balanced by his shoulder into his hand. "When I have finished with this meeting, I will have Mrs. Budare send you more appropriate hours. Preferably when I am actually in the same country."

"They seemed quite upset. I'm concerned they might pull out of the deal." 

"They won't." Ferrall sees the door open from the corner of his eyes. "Offer them the chance to reschedule once they calm down. They are attempting to assure dominance, but they will not want to miss out on this opportunity. Do not oversell it. Let them come to you. Capisci?" 

"Capisco." 

"Brilliant." Ferrall adjusts the fabric over his hands, flexing experimentally. "Then I will leave business in your capable hands. ArrivederLa." 

He hangs up before setting his phone on the table next to him, slipping the hazmat mask over his head. He studies the huffy rabbit through the mirror, evidently unable to catch a break. 

"What do you need?"

"I want to talk about specimen Raphael," Karl watches as he picks up his tools, making his way over to the metal door. Ferrall pauses, irritation in his tone, "I believe we already discussed the matter."

"Then I want to reopen discussions."

"One moment." 

He turns the handle and shuts the door behind him, making sure it's sealed before opening the second one only a few feet ahead. He's greeted with a room bathed in only a faint light, barely enough to see the steps directly in front of him. He removes the flashlight from the pack and makes his way to the center of the room, ignoring the flitting shapes around him. He stops by the table and begins unpacking the needed tools as he waits for one of them to get brave-

There we are.

He is splattered in the face with a dose of yellow particles. He blinks instinctively as his hands come up to snatch his assailant, listening to the startled screech of what one could mistake as an out-of-water jelly fish. Its roots squirm and flail as he lays it on the table and lifts the surgical blade that he manufactured with specific purpose. 

It screeches. He separates the pileus from the stem. 

The roots fall limp and he slices the stem into five even parts, placing them into one of two jars. He carefully removes the eyes from the pileus and drops them in with the roots, turning his attention to the most important part of the creature. He takes his time in removing the spores and begins packing up when none of the others that lurk in the shadows dare come close.

He wouldn't have minded more samples, but he has places to be. 

For now, he is content with the one.

He exits the room and the door clicks shut behind him. His hazmat suit is showered and dried in chemically altered disinfectant for three solid minutes and then the door opens automatically. He enters the room as an impatient Karl taps his foot at a cartoonish pace, scowling at him as he removes the suit. 

Ferrall is used to such a temper, so he is expertly ignored. 

He slips back on his lab coat, and only once his means of control is on his person does the scientist allow the subject to be reopened. "We must move on to the next phase. I've learned as much as I can in the allotted time frame for study. My serum is ready. Raphael is weakened. The requirements have been met, so we move on." 

"Yeah, but if you break this one, you only have three more." Karl points out as he removes the jars from the confines of the bag. "If your other mutants didn't work, what makes you think changing an Natural will?"

"I understand that this one is more entertaining than the previous, but I let you have your fun." 

Ferrall sets the jar in large hands. As long as he's present, the mutant might as well make himself useful. 

He grabs his phone and leaves the room. He’s confident his assistant will follow as he heads down the hall, composing an email for the women taking the fall for his recent change in plans. He keeps the message kind and apologetic, making sure she knows where the fault lies, as well as a mental note to send her something to prove his lack of ill will.

He doubts she’ll mind. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

A door clicks shut and then hurried footsteps catch up. "But Doc-"

"Even if there was logic to further study," Ferrall interrupts contemplatively. "I do not have the time. Raphael's little stunt has already thrown us off and now that he's well enough to survive on his own, I'll have to take the chance. Of course, this is all pertaining to if the drug reacts as expected. After the next stage finishes, you can have all the fun you want." 

"But what if he breaks?" Karl huffs. "Like, really does? Then he won't be any fun."

"There is too much fire in him to be put out so easily." Ferrall dismisses as he nods to a group of passing guards headed to the stairwell. "He would be useless to me otherwise."

"Useful for what-?"

"Bounderies, Karl." He puts his phone away. "Don't overstep." 

"...Yes, Ferrall."

Ferrall strides to the lab door and inputes the code in the recently installed pad. It pops open with a satisfying hiss and he eases it the rest of the way, giving him the perfect view of a very unwelcome sight. 

His specimen trembles and wheezes from his place on the operating table, slumped forward with thick liquid dripping down his chin and onto the puddle on the floor. A sheen of sweat covers his body, face pinched in an expression of anguish, which is the only part of this entire view that isn't unexpected. 

An obscenity slips out as he darts from the door, ignoring Karl's startled exclamation behind him as it slams his shoulder. He heads for the monitors to check Raphael's vitals, comparing the estimates on his clipboard to the screen to make sure nothing has bypassed the realm of danger.

With a dismissive order for Karl to clean up the mess, he reviews them all a second time. 

Blood pressure, heart rate, respiratory rate, oxygen levels- everything seemed to be in order, taking into account his current state. Whatever it is that triggered a violent repulsion from the mutant's body, it is not a cause of underlying medical issues. 

His panic having settled, he makes sure the mess is no longer tainting his floor before he has the operating table lower the specimen onto his back. He slips on gloves as Karl finishes wiping off the oxygen mask. Ferrall takes it off his hands. "Warm towel." 

His assistant moves off and Ferrall sets the mask to the side, retrieving a temporal artery thermometer. The specimen's temperature has risen since it was last taken, but still hovers within safe parameters. He considers theories outside of deterioration and exchanges the thermometer for a tongue depressor, further opening the specimen's beak. 

Raphael's rasped breaths continue as he examines his throat, satisfied with his assessment by the time that Karl returns. 

He knows that the mutant is doubting his abilites, so he lays this to rest. 

Ferrall begins wiping down the sticky sheen of perspiration from scales. "A surprising reaction to the new strain, nothing more. Appears the serum triggered intense physiological effects. I imagine the dose was too concentrated. This is no more than a case of self-destruction. Diaphoresis and lacrimation from fear and likely some form of pain that his body believes itself to be under. There is nothing wrong with his respiratory rate, which means the cause was vocal strain, not internal issues."

He realizes too late that Karl doesn't understand half of his proclamation. He sighs.

He wipes the sweat from Raphael's forehead, cleaning off his chin as glazed eyes blearily open. "In layman's terms, his body is having physical symptoms related to the situations he thinks himself to be in. It's very likely that my soundproofing hid away a serious bout of screaming, for which I am grateful. Unfortunately for him, a downside to straining your voice in such a way is the triggering of the gag reflex."

Raphael stares through him, soft whimpers escaping as the sedative-hypnotic drug assumably begins wearing off, and Ferrall wonders what it is that he saw. He hands over the towel to allow Karl to finish, removing the soiled gloves before he approaches a cabinet, getting a key from his pocket and unlocking it. 

Several inventions and serums lay in different areas of completion, but Ferrall removes his finished black and silver chrome-plated creation.

Leather straps run along the sides of the skull and the forehead. The straps lock together in a metal buckle on the back that only unlocks with a fingerprint to prevent removal without outside assistance. Metal spikes are embedded around the jaws and into the metal rungs to discourage vocal attempts of any kind. He predicts that the body will subconsciously adapt to realizing what action causes the pain and cease the practice. 

“I will have to find a different way to administer the serum. Something a bit less potent.” He considers the cool metal in his hands. “Hm. The serum does not effect his respiratory rate. Perhaps…”

He walks over to his desk, setting the muzzle to the side and lifting his clipboard.

Karl’s patience is paper thin and it isn’t long before he interrupts his work to grumble, “So am I just supposed to stand here…?”

“If I wished it, yes.” He clicks the pen, checking his watch. “Luckily for you, I don’t have the time.” 

Ferrall sets the clipboard to the side. He lifts the the muzzle, peeling off the note attached with tape, skimming over the instructions that he left for himself with a soft, "Right then." 

He adjusts the straps as he approaches the mutants. Karl eyes him. 

"While none of the symptoms are strictly lethal, I'd rather not risk him expelling every nutrient that he gets in him. Plus, everyone would benefit from less of his crass speech. Hold him."

Karl releases the wrist bands and then leans his body up, taking his wrists in one hand. Ferrall expects a fight, but the turtle seems to slump into the hold, breathing evening out as his eyes flicker shut. This level of contentment under emotional duress is... unexpected.

He studies the behavior curiously. "Raphael?" 

"Sensei..." Is the pleading whine, beak hiding further against suit.

Karl scowls, taking hold of the area of jaw near his neck and moving it away, definitively uncomfortable. The turtle emits a chirp of complaint, letting the motion happen. Ferrall considers Raphael for another beat, taking a clear mental note, before moving on with the process. He settles the muzzle over his beak, pressing the buckles together with soft clinks. 

He experimentally tightens the muzzle until the spikes make contact with skin. It's not enough to pierce, but the turtle tries to recoil from it. Ferrall releases the strap, so Karl drops him onto cushions, leading his wrist back into their shackles. 

Raphael jerks against the bonds, unseeing eyes opening and jaw beginning to join. It clamps shut when the spikes press against scales and an animalistic whine splits the air. 

While this is conclusive that he will be wary while conscious and under duress, it doesn't assure that his body realizes what may happen if Raphael lashes out blindly. He needs to implant this knowledge early on and in a controlled environment.

"Hmm." Ferrall contemplates as he watches the drug drag him back down. "A way to cause intense physical pain that won't include irreparable damage..."

The turtle doesn't respond, plastron rising and falling, fingers twitching. Karl looks over at him with sudden interest. "Electric treatment?" 

"I've never tested my drugs under high voltage." Ferrall chides dryly. "And I'd rather not brain fry the specimen?" 

"No breaking bones?"

"Karl. This is meant to be your specialty."

"You're the one making it hard." He grumbles under his breath, considering the terrapin. A slow grin stretches. "Actually..."

He gestures at the turtle, impatient. 

Karl eagerly hurries away from them, very rudely ignoring the obvious signal to offer more information, but Ferrall lets him go. The likelyhood of him doing anything but completing his assigned task is below the decimals. 

He walks around the operation table and retrieves the clipboard, updating the wellness sheet. 

When Karl returns and he spots what lies in his hands, he scowls. "We discussed this."

"He's yours, right?" Karl urges as he kneels to plug in the wire. "This would just make it extra official. Won't mess with the drugs neither."

Ferrall's eyes narrow as he locks his jaw at the admittedly solid point, disgusted by the grin on the mutant's muzzle as he continues, "You said you wanted him to hurt. Heck, admit it. You're a little mad that he's messing everything up for you."

"Anger and resentment solves nothing." Ferrall walks over to his shelf to retrieve a pair of leather gloves. "This is a mere experiment. Not an act of revenge."

"I was just sayin'-"

"And I was not asking your opinion." He slips leather over his fingers. "So stop giving it."

"Yes Doc."

Satisfied, Ferrall grabs the best safety headphones that money can buy. "Some days I feel you take too much glee in your role." 

Karl wisely chooses not to reply so Ferrall agreeably takes the electric brand off his hands, watching as the silver logo turns to more of an ashy red. His interest spikes. "I can't use this on skin, but I could always try..."

He shifts the headphones over his ears and presses the button on the operation table to raise Raphael up. Once it's locked in place, he trails a finger over his plastron, estimating the best area, and chooses his upper left scute. Karl comes in closer as he steadies his hand and cautiously adjusts the brand to avoid dropping it.

Ferrall drives the burning symbol onto plastron.

Raphael bucks in the restraints. He's definitely screaming, but the sound is muffled greatly. 

Ferrall spares some attention to study his face. 

The subject's eyes are open, glazed and unfocused, looking everywhere but landing on nothing. It’s the kind of mindless terror Ferrall needs him to process. The kind of raw agony that may finally be his key to replacing the imagined man with a proper weapon.

Raphael slumps abruptly, taunt muscles deflating without the conscious fear to tighten them, completely boneless. Ferrall glances at the hot metal steering through the shell, leaving it until he's certain that this is a wound that will not heal. 

If Raphael had been honest, then this with be his proof.

"There." 

He lifts it and admires his work, studying the way that the plastron reacts to such heat. 

Tears mingle with the blood, diluting the liquid on the floor. Ferrall adjusts the headphones to rest around his neck. "Towel."

The leering rabbit moves off with reluctant steps and Ferrall tilts his head to see how deep the spikes went into his flesh. There's a risk of injury to the jaw if he keeps reacting in this way, but there's very little that Ferrall needs from him that requires his mouth.

Karl tries to hand him the towel but Ferrall waves him off as he checks his watch. "I'm finished. Catch the bleeding. Whenever it's slowed, get him ready for deport. Otto is on his way." He confidently heads for the door. "My plan has not changed."

There's a long, suspicious beat of silence that has him pausing with his hand on the knob.

"...Yes, Ferrall."

He nods, letting the door fall shut behind him. "Good boy."

Notes:

People keep asking me how this is going to end.

I cannot stress enough that I have no idea. I told you from day one in Ferrall’s lab, that chapter was as nice as I’ll get torture-wise. I was not joking. I am so serious.

Nothing is canon until it’s posted. I have changed the minor plots (at least) three times. Mac just appeared out of nowhere and I went with it.

She was not to be denied.

This will not be a chill time. It’s going to get progressively less chill.

Will there be a happy ending?

No idea. Again, the story keeps changing despite my original designs. If you have my Tumblr, you know where it’ll eventually end up. That takes time. I mean, we are so far from the end that I am as lost as you. I’m taking it one chapter at a time.

If you guys would like me to start putting trigger warnings, I can absolutely do that for you since I’m out of tags. Let me know if that’s something you need from me.

And let’s find out where this ends together, shall we? ;)

Chapter 19: I Think Of You

Summary:

I got quite a few very good questions in the previous chapters about why Leo’s reacting the way that he is to the chaos going down.

Questions such as:

Why isn’t Leo acting similar to the way he reacted when Splinter died?

Short answer: Betrayal. Mourning. Mental illness.

As well as, different situation and different variables.

Long answer: *insert chapter here*

Notes:

I seriously appreciate everyone sticking with me!

To summarize my previous statements:

I intend to have a happy ending.

I do not promise a happy ending.

So let's see where this goes!

І thіnk оf уоu оut оf thе bluе

Whеn І'm wаtсhіng а mоvіе thаt уоu'd hаtе

Yоu'd ѕаy it

You wеrе nеvеr оnе tо hеѕіtаtе

Yоu wеrе аlwауѕ fіrѕt іn lіnе

Ѕо whу wоuld іt bе dіffеrеnt fоr heaven?

***

"Am I a bad brother?"

"Depends." Karai lightly swings a leg off the side of the island where she perches, eyeing him with the same detached air that she fronted all night. "You chained your brother to bed. Coming from someone who was imprisoned by family... Not fun." 

Leo shakes his head, "I-I didn't have a choice-"

"I feel like you could have come up with one." Karai tries not to let the irritation creep into her tone. "Shocked O'Neil was cool with it."

He thumbs the mug, shoulders slumped. "She... She, uh, doesn't... Really..."

"You waited until she left, didn't you?"

Reddened eyes leave the brown surface to glare at her. "Not on purpose. He woke up and the first thing he tried was running off! I mean, what was I supposed to do? Call her and ask permission? I'm the Sensei here and I don't-"

"Don't get defensive with me." She scolds as she gets to her feet. "I don't have to be here."

Leo's fire dies, looking away so fast that she almost misses the new sheen of tears. He pushes the tea away, a light tap against the pot. He rubs his eyes. "Sorry."

"No." She decides as the discomfort that she's not used to swells in her chest. "That was stupid. A brother has a right to mourn, even if it make him snippy."

Leo's voice drops. "So does a sister."

She shrugs. "He was more to O'Neil than he ever was to me. And I know how much he means to you." Karai walks beside him, settling on a island seat and placing her hand over his. "I meant what I said. I will handle preparations. Anything that Donatello can't bring himself to do, at any expense. Say the word."

He turns his hand over, giving her fingers a light squeeze. "I can't believe I'm planning a funeral. We don't even have a-a body. There- there isn't anything to..." His voice trembles as he swallows the words down. Karai watches him, uncertain what the right thing to say is. She sticks with the tried-and-true of not saying anything at all, letting the silence flow around them. 

Karai hates how practiced she is at this now. How was there a point in her life where she had every intention of forcing him through this kind of pain? 

She knew he was a good person, and she saw it as a weakness. She'd looked down on him for his lack of faith in his brothers as warriors. She'd never thought about how little he truly had, and how much she could have taken away.

She can't believe she'd never see Raphael again. She doesn't understand how it was possible for a flame as bright as his to be put out. He'd always seemed so much louder than fear and so much stronger than death. Leo always stood taller with that fury at his side.

"I think Donnie hates me."

"Chaining someone up will do that." 

"I can't lose anyone else, Karai. I can't-" Leo closes his eyes. "I almost killed someone. Because I thought he was Shredder. I saw him. Right in front of me. And I was so sure..." He trails into his thoughts as his eyes open. He shakes his head, puffing out air in a humorless laugh. 

He brings his hands up, frustration leaking in. "I don't know what I was sure of. Shredder was dead. I knew he was dead and I still..."

Karai shouldn't, but she dares. "Has Splinter...?"

"We aren't on talking terms." 

The curt air spells out a warning that she doesn't miss. Karai doesn't know how to acknowledge the bitterness that rolls off him in waves. 

"Has he reached out?" 

He presses his lips together, glancing towards the curtain. 

Karai frowns. "They still don't know."

"I'm keeping it that way." He's trying to come off as intimidating, but Karai knows he's one light touch from shattering. "Especially now."

"You didn't answer my question."

"No." He brings the tea back to his chest. "But I'm sure my spirit isn't all that responsive." 

"You're blocking him?"

Fingers tighten around the mug. "I'm not getting into this. Not today." 

"Fine." She agrees blandly. "I'm not your therapist." She stands, crossing her arms. "Maybe I should get you one. Probably going to need it if you're going to start hallucinating Shredder everywhere."

"It was one time." He mutters. "He's dead and gone. I know that." 

"Hmm." She watches him take another sip, contemplating. "Mikey told me a bit. Maybe you needed a perp to punch. It's what you did for Splinter. You could be more into revenge than you want us to believe. Maybe that's just how you do grief."

"Right. I kill people. And Donnie breaks into buildings. Yay." He pauses, and then groans, hanging this head. "Oh, great, Mikey's the normal one. That makes me feel so much better."

"I'm just saying." She steps closer and sets a hand on his wrist. "Donnie's always been nosy. Maybe finding this guy is what he needs."

"What he needs is some time to clear his head."

"Leo..."

"No! The first thing he'll try to do is leave." Leo presses desperately. "It's a mutant hunter, Karai. A nameless, faceless- how do we stop that? How do I- He exists only to hunt us! We were just nuisances to Shredder, but this- this hunter- What if he's going after more turtles? Donnie'll walk straight into their hands!"

It's a low blow, but she means every word. "So you're going to stoop to Shredder's level."

"That's not- it's not-" He catches his breath, trying again. "It's how Splinter kept us safe. We stayed down here. We stayed out of sight. It's how we stayed safe."

"That was a different time, Leo. One where you didn't have enemies actively hunting you down."

"It's how we stayed safe." He insists, pleading. "I'm Sensei. I have to keep them safe." 

Karai lets that simmer in the air. Then, she tilts her head, tone neutral. "Do you think Donnie's onto something with the... BioTech place?"

Leo looks away. "I don't know. He's clearly not thinking straight. I'm sure the mafia do plenty of business with plenty of people."

"It can't hurt to look into it." Karai studies him as he moves his arm, detaching from her touch. "I can list a couple people who won't sleep well until his kidnapper is taken care of."

Leo stares into the liquid. "The Mutanimals still haven't found Slash. He didn't... Well, you've seen how Raph takes bad news." 

Karai can't tell if he really doesn't know who she's referring too or if he's dodging the implications. "Like owner like pet?"

He offers a smile, but the upward crease doesn't deserve to be catagorised as such with the sorrow that cloaks it. "Yeah." The smile falls as his grip tightens. "He was always so headstrong. I always thought, out of any of us, he'd be the one..." 

He shakes his head, voice dropping, "I never told him. He'd hate that. More than anything." 

Karai doesn't think any of them would particularly enjoy being the last of their kind, but she knows better to vocalize that. Leo's voices shakes, but he presses past it. "I just keep thinking. I keep... Maybe if he was normal... If we were human... Battle is one thing. Battle is a choice, it's- this guy took him- killed him, just because..." He chokes on the lump in his throat. "I can't fix that. I can't protect them. We could save the world a-a hundred times but we're still- we're still-" 

Karai has to watch him break all over again, hunched over the tea that she made him in an attempt calm the last outburst. The kunochi knows that the turtles are a far more prominent figures in the city's eyes than her or even the Mutanimals. There's not a gang within that doesn't whisper about shelled heroes. She doubts anyone outside the Foot even knows what she is now. 

It never occurred to her how much of a blessing that really was, to become human at whim. 

She closes five fingered hands, bring them down to her lap. 

She wishes she had been there with him when they got the news. Maybe she could have gotten more information from them, calmed the situation before Leo got lost in grief. Maybe they would already know who took him. It wouldn't bring him back, but it would keep his family safe.

It would keep their brothers safe.

She thinks Raphael would prefer action more than hiding. He wouldn't care for prayers or funerals or useless apologies. He'd want this guy gone. She can only imagine how frustrated Raphael would be to see Leo blubbering over him instead of taking care of the threat that was still out there. 

Donnie might be in denial, but at least he's trying. 

Karai texts Shini, considers the screen, and then puts it away. She stands up, placing a hand on Leo's shell as she passes by and then heading for her own tea. She drinks it, watching the Neon banner over the stove until he manages to collect himself. 

When Leo calms, wiping at the black fabric that soaks his pain, she sets it down.

He looks over at her as she heads for the curtain. "Ka-arai? Whe-?"

"I'm going to let Donatello out." The blue fabric swishes behind her as Leo's barstool hits the ground. He stops her near the couch, sliding to block her path, arms out. His pupils have completely contracted, cloaked in watery terror. "No! Stop- I thought you understood-"

"I understand." She replies calmly. "I just don't agree."

"He'll get himself killed-"

"You really think so low of him?"

"It's not a matter of-!"

"Either you let your brother out." She lifts up a key, and Leo's hand goes to his belt. "Or I do."

Leo reaches out as she swerves to the side. When he faces her again, the key is gone. "I'm not the enemy, Leo. But I can't sit here and let you force your brother to agree with you."

"I have to-"

"It's not how the world works. You can't make someone believe something. You have to show them." She steps forward, taking his wrist and gently setting the key in his palm. "I should know, better than anyone."

He stares at it, shoulders slumped. "Tell me what to do."

"Let him go." She mutters. "And let him find the truth for himself. Oversee his work. It's the only way you're going to get through to him. And the only way you can be sure he's safe."

"I don't think that's a go-"

A light buzzing cuts him off. She picks up the phone, showing Leo the face on the screen and then holding out a finger. He stays as she places space between them. "Moshi moshi?"

"Senpai?" Shini questions idly, "You said to call you?"

"You need me right now?" She responds urgently. "What's going on?"

"Ooooh." Karai can hear the chesire grin. "The sneak-out-of-a-conversation gag. I got you. Oh nooo, Karai, I've been stabbed! Wounded! I'm seeing a light! You must come rescue me!"

It takes everything in Karai to remain straight-faced. "Okay. I'll be right there."

A sly giggle. "See you soon."

Karai hangs up, turning back to Leo. "I have to go."

He nods, and she steps forward, setting a hand on his shoulder. "Make the right choice." She offers a small smile. "Leaders are all about that, right?"

Leo doesn't look at her, staring at the key in his hand. She steps back, turning and then sprinting to the turnstiles. She hops them, leaping to her bike, and then kick-starts the vehicle. It roars with life and he watches as the light fades from the tunnel, leaving the lair in silence.

He stands, alone, until he manages to drag his feet from the floor. 

Leo heads to his room, tossing the key to the dresser and then stripping the mask. He grabs a new one and some wrist wrappings, drying his face and then replacing the tear stained ones on his hand. He breathes out, staring at the blue fabric in his grip. 

He closes his fingers, scrunching the fabric, and then stands. He goes for the only other black mask he has, laying next to a singed purple, a light blue staining the end of the black tails where the dye didn't seep all the way through. He works up the courage, and wraps it around his head. 

He can still hear his father's warning, clear as day."It is one thing to regret bad decisions after they are made..."

"A leader must foresee how bad discussions lead to bad results." He mutters into open air. "So does that mean the leader failed? Or the Sensei?"

He gets no answer. The drawer slams shut. 

Leo grabs the key and heads to the bathroom, making sure that any proof of pain is gone. He takes a minute, to breathe and think and wonder if he's making the right choice, and then he heads for Donnie's room. His younger brother is sitting on the floor, a scowl deep in his features as he sulks. Only one arm has a chain around it, and he'd managed to move himself off the bed and down to the ground, where he probably discovered that Leo had rid his dresser of all tools.

He shouldn't have been able to lift his arm far from the mattress. The fact that he's on the floor likely meant that he forced his wrist into some very uncomfortable positions. Leo's distinctly unsurprised, considering they are all apt ninjas. It would explain why his wrist looks red.

The term if looks could kill comes to mind as Leo turns on the light and is greeted with a full taste of his brother's fury. 

"Hey, Dee."

The genius has never been one for small talk. "You. TIED ME. To MY BED?!"

Donnie's shriek cuts through his brain in the worst way possible. His limbs are weights as he leans against the door frame, trying to appear more confident than he feels. He's so tired. He wants to take a nap, instead of dealing with a fit. Donnie wouldn't even be in pain right now if he'd just remained put. It's not like he would have left him there indefinitely. 

Weren't they supposed to be the rational pair? 

"You kicked Mikey into the algae pools." Leo states. He's amazed at the ease in his tone. He kind of wants to scream, knowing Donnie would attack them for trying to keep him safe. "You're not exactly thinking straight right now. It's for everyone's safety."

"Is that what you're telling yourself?" He snarls. "How is that helping Raph? Huh?! He's out there getting cut to pieces and you're chaining his only hope of being found!"

Leo stares at the picture frames next to his bed, waiting for the water that stings his eyes to dry.

His frame is gone. So is Mikey's. 

Raph's faces the bed, shoving against Donnie, laughing as his ship blows up on the screen. Donnie is holding onto the joystick, yelling at him, face flushed in frustration. 

"I want." He swallows the lump, refusing to look down. Control his tone. Control the pain. "To let you out. I do. But you- need. Need. To work with me."

"I'm not going to stop looking! If you ask me ONE MORE TIME, I'm turning off ALL hot water to the lair, I SWEAR on all things science, and I mean it this time, HOLY CHALUPA, CAN YOU BE any more SELFISH-?!"

Leo kicks over a pile of books at his feet and a tool box clatters to the ground, spilling its remnants and thankfully shutting his younger brother's big mouth. He knows it's only because he's gearing up to scold him for that action, but Leo beats him to it. It's easier to speak now that he wants to punch Donnie instead of hiding in a corner. 

Both would be counterproductive, so he sticks with honing his big brother voice.

"I'm not going to ask you to stop." Donnie watches, eyes narrowed in disbelief. "I will unlock the chain, and you can do whatever you want. Work in your lab. Continue the search. Keep yelling about how selfish and egotistical I am." 

That part hurts, an agony drilling down to his core, but he doesn't dare let it show. 

"I am Sensei-"

"You are NOT my-"

"-and AS SUCH," He raises his voice, talking over the disrespect. "I am laying down the law. You can do whatever you want whenever you want-" He pauses, making sure Donnie is actually listening. "As long. As it's within the lair."

He rolls his eyes. "You can't keep me here."

"No." Leo agrees. "You will."

Donnie's carapace thumps the bed. "Holy..."

"I will let you out to do as you please on the condition that you promise me to stay home."

"Fine." He throws up an arm. "I promise to stay home."

Leo knows better than that. "Define home to me."

Donnie stares. Leo pushes himself off the door frame, crouching down to his level. "Home, is not New York. Home, is not the earth. Define home, Donatello." 

"I promise to stay in the lair." He sneers. Leo frowns.

"I want you to swear on Splinter's grave."

He shoots up, horrified. Leo knows it's because he had no intention of keeping that promise.

"What?!"

"If you mean it, you should have no problem swearing on father's grave." He folds his hands, aware of how intently their father pushed loyalty and honor on all of them. Out of any of his brothers, Leo knows Donnie took it as much to heart as he does. "I want you to mean what you say, or you can stay here until you do."

He's silent, face stricken with the weight of Leo's challenge, and his leader gives him the time that he needs to realize that he has no options.

"I'm not going to promise to stay here forever." Donnie pleads, fists tight in his lap.

Leo's heart twinges, relaxing his posture so he can sit on the floor. "Not forever. I would never make you promise that."

"Right." Donnie grumbles bitterly. "Because you'd never chain me to a bed either." 

Leo expertly ignores his snide comment. "I want," He pauses, considering. "I want to know I can trust you to tell me when you leave. Not over a note or text message. When I'm conscious. So what happened to Raph won't happen to anyone else."

Donnie's stares at his lap. Leo rolls the key between his fingers.

"I swear..." Leo perks, hopeful. Donnie breathes out, painfully. "On- father's grave, that I will never, leave the lair without telling you to your conscious face."

"Okay." Leo almost deflates in relief. He drags himself to his feet, heading over to the bed and kneeling down to unlock his cuff. Donnie refuses to look at him, rubbing the red over his wrist. 

Leo stands once more, giving his brother some space.

"Do you want me to get you some..."

He turns, ready to retrieve it anyway, when he spots the picture frames across the room. His voice trails with uncertainty, glass sparkling across the ground. They'd shattered, transparent and wooden chips scattered across the shelving and floor. Leo looks at the dresser, where two pictures are missing, and then to the brother that won't meet his eyes. 

"I can do it myself."

"Um," He looks to the book shelf, pretending the shard buried in his chest isn't as deep as it is. "Maybe you should... Or I... The glass..."

Donnie looks over at the shelving, emotion locked down. His tone is bland, as if his little brother doesn't feel him worth his anger anymore. "I think it's fine where it is. Very apropos."

"Donnie," He tries as he heads for the door. "I think we should talk."

"You said I could do what I wanted." Donnie states dispassionately. "And the last thing I want is to talk to you." He doesn't look back. "I'll be in my lab." 

So Leo watches him go, desperate to have him back. He flinches when the lab door slams, loud enough to reach him, and he refuses to let the tears fall. He goes from Donnie's room, leaving both messes to be cleaned up when he has the strength. The shard refuses to budge without bleeding him out, so he drags himself to the last brother that he truly has left. 

Mikey's on his side, sheets locked between tense fingers, a baby alien sleeping on the pile that has come from it. He's dressed in mourning attire, black mask around closed eyes. 

The light is on, revealing posters and comics and a drum set that was mainly used to frustrate the leader when he was trying to meditate after a stressful day. There's a TV on the floor that wasn't there before. He turns off the light and goes to the prone form, placing himself between his brother on the wall. 

He coils an arm around him, feeling the even breaths of a living brother. Mikey's face stays hidden in the teddy under his arm. "Donnie?"

"In his lab." He mumbles remorsefully. "Did I wake you?"

"No." Mikey sniffles and Leo's heart twists. "Was watching shows with Chompy. He likes Crognard. Dinosaurs and..." His voice breaks. "Raph hated him. He hated him so much."

"He hated a lot of stuff." Leo whispers a secret between brothers; a truth that anyone could see. "It always made it easy to tell what he loved."

Mikey's arm shifts, "He loved Chompy."

"He loved fighting."

"Mona."

"Winning."

"Comics."

"Drawing."

"Scary movies."

"Making us watch scary movies."

Mikey giggles, soft and weak. Leo squeezes, leaning his forehead against the back of his head. 

"He loved you."

"Me." Mikey agrees softly. "You."

"Donnie."

"Spike."

"Slash."

"Karai." 

"Karai?"

Mikey elbows him lightly. 

"If you say so." Leo teases, blinking away the moisture that clouds the darkness. "Casey. And April."

"Splinter."

Leo tenses, throat closing. Chompy chirps amid the dark.

"It's okay." Mikey coos. "He's with him now."

Leo doesn't know who he's directing it at. He doesn't dare ask. 

"Does... Donnie hate us?"

"No." Leo assures, bringing wet eyes shut. "He's just scared. He's scared that he might find out we're right. He's scared... It's his fault. When we are."

Mikey curls his knees up, small in Leo's grip. "I don't hate him."

"We just need to remind him of that." Leo admits, exhaustion creeping in. "He needs us to be there for him. And... If he can find this guy..."

Mikey exhales. "We'll take care of it. Like Shredder."

"Like Shredder." Leo can feel that resolve keeping the void at bay, blocking the darkness inside from swallowing him whole. He opens his eyes, safer in the black around him. "He took one of our own. So we're going to take back."

Peace between them, and then Leo tentatively asks, "You still mad at me?"

"I don't like being mad."

"It's okay if you are." Leo says, even though it's not. "I understand."

Mikey's quiet, and for the first time in years, Leo wishes that he knew what was thinking.

"I'm glad you changed your mind."

"Thank Karai for that."

"I will." Mikey's voice is more fragile than Leo can stand. "I miss him."

"I know." Leo murmurs. "I'm sure he misses you too."

"I want... I want to tell- him." His baby brother's voice wavers. "I love you. I love you, Leo."

"Love you too, Mikey." His Sensei promises with every fiber of his being, even as his heart remains in pieces that don't remember how to come together. "Always."

Notes:

Donnie needs a prominent ally in his investigation.

Hmmmm…

Who shall it be?

A) A conflicted Michelangelo
B) A self-serving Rockwell
C) A well-meaning Karai
OR
D) A desperate Leo just trying to get on his good side

(Feel free to entirely ignore this. I’m just curious on how predicable I am.)

Chapter 20: Who Cares

Summary:

I really don't think you guys are ready for what's coming. So.

I'm going to pull a Leo and decide what's best for you against your will!

Cause I care <3

Oh, hey. Remember that quiz?

Notes:

And the winner is…

Who cares if one more light goes out?

In a sky of a million stars

It flickers, flickers

***

"Rockwell.”

Already regretting several well-executed choices, Rockwell turns. 

Leonardo approaches them, even strides, looking from him to his fellow traveler. "Leatherhead. Hi."

"Leonardo." Leatherhead rumbles gently. "How are you?"

"I'm fine." It's an obvious lie. Rockwell can feel the full force of the pain even from a few feet away. It makes him want to punch something or bawl his eyes out, which would be incredibly unproductive as well as wildly embarrassing.

He puts a barrier up between them as Leonardo points over his shoulder with the mutant turtle equivalent of a thumb. "Mikey's in the dojo. He's... Before the alter. I can go get him?"

"No need." Leatherhead trains his sights on the paper walls between him and the turtle that he is so inexplicably fond of. "I will go to him."

Leonardo nods, in gratitude or understanding, Rockwell isn't sure. He's not willing to open the mental barrier to find out. The leader of the turtle group turns to him as his companion leaves. 

"Mona said that you guys found Slash?"

"Yes." Rockwell assures as he looks about the mess that was a home. "The police are trying to discover how a portion of the trees in the Greenbelt have been reduced to firewood, but the chances of them tracking it to a mutant turtle living in their city is minimal. It is... others who may be searching that I am concerned about." 

Leonardo nods again, solemn as the scientist assures, "I am watching the feeds."

He reluctantly faces him. "But you did not have me come all the way here to hear about our abysmal state."

"Right. Well," Leonardo looks towards the lab and then back to him. "Donnie has been locked up for the last few days. We're having... Difficulty getting him to sleep and eat. He's caught up in his... Research. He believes Raph is alive."

"So I've heard." Rockwell states. "What could I possibly do about it?"

"Talk science? Or logic?" Leonardo pleads. "Get him to come around? I was hoping he would be more agreeable if I let him do what he wanted, but it's backfiring. You guys are both scientists. He never doesn't listen to science. Maybe he'll listen to someone on his level?"

"I am far over his level." Rockwell dismisses. Leonardo doesn't relent. "So maybe you can reach him better than we can. Use your- your big words to convince him that he's just dealing with grief. Describe brain waves or chemicals or- anything."

"Leonardo, I'm not a trained therapist."

"I know." His shoulders slump, one hand twisting over the other. "I was just... I was hoping... At the very least, you could remind him that he needs to eat?"

Leonardo carries a mantle of maturity and leadership so effectively that Rockwell often forgets that, in many senses, he is only a child. He can see it now, in his desperation to seeking understanding from an adult. He doesn't need his powers to know that the boy fears for his brother. It’s tiring, really, to be this intelligent.

The last thing that he wants is to be stuck here while the family is caught up in mourning, emotional state barely held together, but he's not much safer back with the team.

With Slash's return, he's actually become quite physically and emotionally unsafe. 

"Very well." He strides forward, pizza box tossed from his path with no one laying a hand on it, heading for the lab. "I will entertain this. But don't expect any sudden changes of heart."

"Thank you, Rockwell, seriously." Leonardo hurries after him. "It means a lot."

Rockwell opens metal doors, completely deadpan. "Oh dear."

The lab is in disarray, papers on the floor and rock music blaring from a speaker. There's a large map on the wall, some kind of hologram from a projector. Leo doesn't remember Donnie having one before, but he did have a lot of time on his hands before... Everything.

Leo looks guiltily at Rockwell as he gives the room a dispassionate once-over, hoping that it doesn't lead to negative commentary. The last thing Donnie'll be responsive to is criticism. Rockwell would normally be the last person that he'd consider inviting when dealing with an emotional Donnie, but Donnie hates him, and he’s running out of people to ask. 

Donnie has sent everyone else out with a death wish within ten minutes of entering. 

He threatened to convince Kirby of a fax Kraang invasion if they dared send him.

He wouldn't even let April in. 

Leo walks over to the boombox to turn in down. He watches it a moment, palm over the exterior, now cognizant of where the missing object from Raph's room had gone. Oh, Donnie...

He exhales. "Donatello?" 

"Don't talk to me." 

His younger brother rolls up a small piece of ducktape and presses the notepaper onto it, striding from his desk to slap it on the map. Leo moves over to it as Donnie grabs the stack of papers from his desk, flipping through them and then writing something down. Next to the map is a bunch of faces that Leo doesn't recognize. He takes in the humans, some in lab coats and some posing with families, and looks over his shoulder as Donnie walks up. 

He has the pen in his mouth now, papers pinched between his fingers as he reads them.  He releases them to draw an X over an image of a woman in a nice dress with a baby in her arms. The name underneath is scrawled in Donnie's way-too-deep-in-a-project handwriting.

Leo stares at him. Donnie supplies, "Vacation with the family." 

The leader blinks, turning to look at them, and then Donnie is across the room, circling his desk to sit at his laptop. He types on the keys and the eldest turtle gives Rockwell a tired look.

The ape is busy looking over the map. "You've crossed out all the workers from the warehouse."

"Yeah, I figured they're too low on a pay grade to be the ones coordinating with the mafia. Plus, none of them would be able to get away with trading weapons without someone higher up catching on." Donnie glances up curiously. "How did you know that?"

"I've done my research." Rockwell states. "Did you ever consider that one of them might have connections to your brother's captor?"

Leo cringes in the background, anxiety climbing from his chest and into his throat. Couldn't there be just one conversation that doesn't offer painful reminders of their loss? 

"It's possible, but there wouldn't be much way to prove it." Donnie admits as he gets to his feet. 

Leo hates it; how the topic doesn't phase him. How hard he must be fighting to live in a world where he doesn't have to face that. It's going to kill him when the truth hits.

That's the only reason that Leo keeps his mouth shut, unable to prevent the glare that goes in Rockwell's direction as he entertains his poor brother. The leader lets himself become a background spectator, even as he fights the urge to leave them to their conversation. 

Donnie is trying to find proof that Raphael is alive. To do that, he needs to find the person that took him away. That's something Leo needs to know, as much as the topic aches, as sure as he needs to breathe. 

His little brother heads over to Rockwell, pointing to the location of the suspected company. "My biggest lead is that the mafia had a connection that went straight into Bio-Tech servers. Or, at least, to a remote server with their files. I doubt someone that low on the totem pole would have access to that kinda data." He looks at the ape. "The documents that I managed to snag are mainly composed of mutagen. As the reigning expert..."

"Oh, please."

"As the life form with the most experience altering mutagen." Donnie corrects with a shrug. "I feel confident enough to say that they... Don't look quite right."

"Elaborate." 

"I'm not sure. I'm familiar with a lot of the components, but the chemistry doesn't fit. Here, let me show you-"

Donnie heads to his desk and types into his computer. The ape follows his lead. Leo sighs, crossing his arms uncomfortably and looking towards the map. 

It's obvious that his younger brother is putting a lot of thought into his investigation. He studies the faces, wondering which of the innocent smiles belong to the villain that might have snatched his brother, or took part in tormenting him. Heat builds as he steps forward, ignoring the ones with the X's, training his attention on any clear faces who look like a brother-killing Mutant Hunter. His eyes fall on the lab coats, contemplating the twins use of the word Doc.

The light from the projector outlines the leader, a large shadow leering next to the Bio-Tech building. 

He wonders if he'd hesitate, his father's teachings leading his steps, when the monster that took his brother away enters in his path. 

He contemplates what it would be like to have remorse for a life like that taken, when he's freeing the world from someone who couldn't care less about its inhabitants. He thinks there was a time when he did care, back when he felt invincible and the world was his playground. When every mission was an adventure and he didn't know the pain of loss. 

He doesn't remember what that must have felt like. He just knows that he can't risk letting this kind of evil fester into something that they can't handle. 

His brothers will never have to deal with another Shredder as long as he lives.

Or, what's left of them.

The ache returns. His chest squeezes, like his fingers into fists. 

He exhales, but the weight remains.

How can he promise something like that, when he'll never be able to see the new threats coming? How can he protect them from a danger that has no name?

"-don't need you to finish my thoughts for me. I know what I'm thinking, Rockwell."

"Your mind is so disjointed it's a wonder you can make out anything at all."

"Then get out of my head and both of us will be much happier."

Leo looks over to the nerds as Donnie pushes his chair away from the ape, picking up his papers. He looks mildly irritated, but that's basically the equivalent to him being in a good mood recently. "You know I'm right. If I remember correctly, you said it yourself."

"Which means I reached the conclusion first."

"I was unconscious."

The only mutant in the room who understands zip about anything involving chemical equations clears his throat, reminding the scientists that he still exists. Neither of them look up. Rockwell, because he has no common decency, and Donnie, because he's probably still convince Leo exists solely to ruin his life.

He doesn't. He only wants him to move past this.

Why does he always have to be the bad guy?

"Donnie?"

"This is going to be the- what-" Donnie tilts his head at the papers, briefly considering. "-eleventh time I'm kicking you out today?"

His smile falters, but only for a moment. "I'm not trying to upset you-"

"-doing a miserable job of tha-"

"-was just hoping we could talk? About a few things?" He presses, looking to the mutant that's supposed to be on his side. "Right Rockwell?"

"I get the general feelings he does not wish to exchange pleasantries." Rockwell comments unhelpfully. Leo kind of wants to throw a stapler at him. No, not kind of. He does. 

How convenient. There's one right in his reach. 

"Perhaps a subtle exit would be in both of your best interests before anarchy breaks loose in this abominable excuse of a lab."

Donnie raises an eye ridge, thumbing his papers. "See, you had me at first..."

"It's not my fault you function in a junk heap." 

"This is why we're not friends."

"I would never dream of implying we were."

"Guys." Leo interjects dryly. "Can either of you just hear me out?" It occurs to the leader that he doesn't actually care what Rockwell does with his time. "Preferably the turtle who tried to throw an unstable tranquilizer dart at me?"

"I should not have to kick anyone out of my lab multiple times in a period of a few hours." Donnie remarks objectively. "Locking the door is not an invitation to whip out the lock picks."

"You weren't answering your t-phone."

"Isn't breaking and entering a crime, Rockwell?"

"Do not involve me in your spiteful rhetorical queries."

Leo pinches between his eyes. "One meal. Or a nap! All I'm asking."

"I prefer to avoid the risk of getting food on my keyboard."

"You have been alive for too long to not understand the concept of eating over a plate."

"Rockwell, tell Leo I'm not talking to him."

"We both know you're already addressing him. Might as well ask the wall."

Donnie sets his legs on his desk and crosses them, aware that this was a habit that Leo had practically begged him to break because it looked disrespectful. They had been fourteen, but by the way his eyes twitches, Donnie's pleasantly reminded that his standards haven't changed. "Hey, wall. Tell Leo I want him out of my lab."

"Real mature." Leo snaps. "Is this how you treat Mikey too, or am I just lucky?"

Donnie feigns an acute interest in his papers. Leo's voice darkens. "Donatello, if you are hurting your brother after everything he's been through-"

"It's really annoying when people decide to start shouting when you're in the middle of a project, isn't it, Rockwell?" Donnie looks over his papers to meet the gaze of an unamused scientist. "You'd think I'd be used to it by now, but certain brothers still manage to be whiny pests, even when I'm doing exactly what they want."  He steels his voice. "I suppose it's always the insignificant things that get to you."

Out of the corner of his eyes, Leo's face flushes, tears pricking his eyes. Donnie refuses to let any sign of the guilt gnawing at his gut show on his face; the perfect picture of bored as Leo's arms rise and fall. One hand finds his forehead as he releases a shaky breath. "I can't do this. I can't-"

He makes a soft sound, frustrated and helpless, and then he's heading out of the room, slamming the door behind him. 

Donnie takes his feet off his desk and drops the papers, burying his face in his hands. 

There's the sound of clicking. "Even I feel that was a bit harsh."

"Raph always said I could be mean when I wanted to be. He... Kinda seemed like he prefer it when we were out each other's throats, actually." Donnie breathes out, aware that Rockwell can probably sense every ugly thought. His eyes burn. He tells himself he needs sleep. But not now. Later. "It was the only way to get him out. I can't even look at him. Not when..."

A million thoughts tangle and mesh in a chaotic whirl of memories and fear and fury. He can barely pick them apart with the way they entwine as one, flourishing with new content and dragging up the old worries that are better left unheeded and unspoken.

"You think he's delusional."

His head shoots up, meeting the wide eyes of the mutant. He can't speak, panic lacing everything more intensely that he can process, and Rockwell presses, "Why?"

Donnie knows why, and before he can stop his train of thought, the mutant does too. "Conversing with himself? Attacking thin air- Donatello, that's reason for concern."

"You don't think I know-" Donnie shakes his head, doubling back from a road that he hasn't been willing to go down. "No, stop, I'm not getting into this. We're not talking about this. I'm not thinking about this; I'm thinking about Raph and I-"

"Donatello, if he has been like this for weeks-"

He stands, hands slamming the desk. "DROP IT."

The ape stares at him. He deflates back into his chair, lacking the energy to properly emote or attempt to continue the conversation. He stares at the floor, hating himself for his inability to keep his thoughts in check.  "Don't... Tell, anyone. Please."

Rockwell doesn't respond. Donnie wants the floor to swallow him. He didn't intend to have those strands of thought or realize it was loud enough for the ape to hear. The last thing he wants is to spill Leo's dirty laundry when his older brother hasn't even worked up the courage to talk to them about his hallucinations. This is definitely not the time.

"He may have a point about malnourishment."

Donnie ignores the jab, grateful for the change in topic. "It doesn't matter. None of it matters. He'll forgive me. Or he won't. I don't care. As long as I bring Raph home." He rubs at his eyes, glancing over to his companion as Rockwell triumphantly announces, "As I thought. Conservationist. There's no way he has the stomach for kidnapping one who is both human and animal."

Donnie stares at the laptop that he did not unlock for the invasive ape, studying the screen miserably. He looks over at the wall as a large red X is made with a seemingly floating pen. He frowns, "What are you doing here, Rockwell?"

"Using my wide intelligence to instruct one of lesser intellect."

"No." Donnie leans back in his seat, defeated by reality. "Leo brought you here for some alternative motive. Why are you here? To get into my head? Force me to believe my brother is dead?"

"I am not your brother's lapdog." Rockwell eyes him in disgust as the pen caps itself. "I am here because Leatherhead feels I need to be. Apparently assisting you assists Slash's recovery. I don't understand the logic, but emotions aren't my specialty. I trust him to be more experienced in that field."

"Oh, yeah… I- I heard about-" 

"I have no need for more condolences." He scoffs. "I do, however, have answers for you."

Donnie looks at his skeptically. "Define answers." 

"I have been doing my own research into Raphael's disappearance. Interestingly, when I went to erase any footage that may have been caught by the Bio-tech building after Mona described your little incident on a nearby rooftop..." The marker taps the desk. "There was nothing. Everything from that hour was gone. Someone did not want it seen. Did you know that the warehouse from your ambush was sold recently?"

Donnie lowers his hand, alert and scrambling to keep up. "You were-? It was-? It what!?"

"Yes. All staff has been scattered or laid off as of this morning." Rockwell goes back over to the wall of pictures and points to a man. "The warehouse manager sent a report the afternoon after Raphael's kidnapping, and the next day, he was found dead in his apartment. Any trace of the document has been erased. It's news someone intended to have buried."

Rockwell pulls him off the wall and crumbles the image. Donnie stares at him before shaking the confusion off. "Okay. So someone's covering their tracks. It could be-"

"An inside job? Very likely. It's more than obvious that whoever erased the document got rid of its creator. They did not want it to be received or read by anyone else." 

"Would that make it-" 

"A team effort would be logical. One man can't keep a proper eye on everything at once. A spread of men within the interior could keep an eye on multiple factions." 

"Yeesh. Sounds like Victor needs better hires."

Rockwell stares at him. "You mean Victor Ferrall. And he's not a suspect." 

"I ruled him out a while ago." Donnie stands and walks over. "White male. Thirty-four years old. No kids, no family- parents died when he was a teenager. He inherited the company before he even got out of highschool. All that responsibility on top of a heavy loss... It's actually pretty sad. Anyway. I can't find any dirt on him. The guy's immaculate." 

Donnie pulls up a muted video and they watch him interact with a tour group passing through his building. The man is all smiles and handshakes, leaning down to a little girl's level with a laugh to offer a button with his logo. "Charity donations, homeless assistance, ASD and immigrant funding, great with kids- he sets up an excellent cover image for anyone who wants to use his company for offhanded dealings with the mafia. I've been going through all his staff for the New York institution and I have a few leads."

"Hmm." 

Donnie looks over at the ape. "Problem?"

It surprises him when there's no immediate answer. Then, he states, "You haven't crossed him out yet. And you don't intend to." 

Donnie looks at his picture, considering. "No. I guess I don't."

"Why?"

"You're in my head. You tell me."

"I cannot. There's no logic for it. No reasoning. You simply don't want to."

Donnie considers the screen, chin on his hand. "Isn't he... Too perfect? Everyone messes up eventually. How can you be a big face in the industry and never have more than two or three heated debates? And any nay-saying is simply nit-picky trolls. It's..." Donnie shakes his head. "He's not a suspect. But something tells me not to write him off just yet."

"He's given you no reason to suspect him. You know he has no motive. You need something more concrete than him being too nice. With that logic, Michelangelo could be the culprit."

"I told you, he's not a suspect. Besides, it's my investigation." Donnie says curtly, heading over to his seat. He filters through a few irritated thoughts that he knows the prying mutant monkey will pick up on. "Let's move on, shall we?" 

Rockwell seems annoyed, but Donnie doesn't waste the energy to care. He sits and then hands over a few papers. "Rockwell, Leo said that you believe whoever this guy is doesn't know his way around chemicals."

"That would be an accurate paraphrase, yes." 

"So does that take out everyone is the chemist division? Well, no, maybe not interns..."

"The mutagen has only come into the picture very recently." Rockwell points out as he lets the papers float in the air before him, studying them critically. "Any person trying to use it in any already proven chemical outline will have a fair share of troubles getting the elements to respond, degree or no."

"That would explain the inconsistencies." Donnie's eyes widen. "And if they're only in it for a quick buck-" 

"-there is no reason to believe they would be careful about how their deadly poison gas kills the mutant. As long as their body is rendered incapacitated." 

"So you think the dart-" 

"-was meant to capture instead of harm? It depends." Rockwell shifts the papers to train a steady gaze on the turtle. "Do you believe a person intent on kidnapping two rare mutant lifeforms would end his experiment during a perceivable moment of fight-or-flight? Especially considering how few there are of your exact make-up?" 

Donnie's eyes light up. "You do think they're lying!" 

"I think it would be pure idiocy to give up a specimen for adhering to a natural instinct after going through so much trouble to catch it in the first place." Rockwell sets the stack in an nice pile next to his arm. "Of course, they gave you an unstable serum, so I doubt the perpetrator's IQ is very high."

"Why would they?" Donnie looks back to his screen. "If this isn't a matter of not caring... Maybe they were-" 

"-in a hurry? It's plausible, but that begs the query as to why they're experimenting. What is the goal? What did the villain need two turtles for? He had plenty of options. Why go for the least interesting that the mutants of New York have to offer?" 

Donnie rolls his eyes and muses, "None of these names are familiar. So it's not someone with a grudge. Mutant hunter... Mutant hunter... Has anyone been hunted? Have you run into anyone trying to kill or cage you- other than the obvious suspects."

Rockwell is quiet as he regards the names on Donatello's wall. Finally, he decides, "No. I recognize some faces from my time as a human, but none during my activities as an ape."

"That's right!" Donatello gasps, jumping to his feet. "You were human! A human scientist!"

"How astute." Rockwell remarks blandly. "I can see why you are the brains of the group."

"No, that-uh-that-" He hurries over to the man that he'd crossed out. "Him. How did you know he was a conservationist?"

"We spoke briefly." Rockwell acknowledges. "He had trouble seeing the topic from multiple perspectives. I cannot work with someone so shortsighted."

"See! You've worked with some of these people!" Donatello taps the photo. "That's first hand knowledge. A suspect eliminated in minutes. You're still in contact with some of the scientists that you used to work with, right?"

"Of course." Rockwell muses as a million and one thoughts center on one idea. "You believe I should use my contacts to discover a lead."

For the first time since he'd entered the room, the boy smiles. "Exactly! And if worse comes to worse, we can put your mind-reading to use!"

"Unless they're actively considering a topic, I will not probe further. It would cause significant damage for me to dive into an inferior brain ignorant of my company."

"We can work out the details later." Donnie dismisses with a wave, moving over to his papers. "This is perfect. The faster I can rule out suspects, the quicker we can get to Raph. All I need is a location."

"And your brother's backing." Rockwell reminds before a smug air filters between the scattered thoughts, shifting them into something undeniably arrogant. 

Donatello places a hand on his hip, smirking at the ape as he processes. The teen earns a nod of approval. "Very well then. Let us know when you do. Slash would have my head if I did not include him in that particular mission, whether or not he believes that Raphael has survived."

"Going in alone is a good way to get captured myself." Donnie consents as the pride dies, remorse slowing his words. "I'd... Rather not become the next reason for my brothers to mourn." He swallows, looking away. "And, you know, getting cut up sucks."

"No person wants to be an experiment." Rockwell agrees solemnly. "And I think you should consider your brother's offering of a meal and rest."

Anger bulldozes the mix of emotions. "Rockwell..." 

"You might enjoy the power of hoarding your well-being over your brother," Rockwell cuts in evenly. "but it would do you more good to have him on your side. As long as you treat him as the enemy, you lose the ability to manipulate your leader into sensibility." He shakes his head. "A turtle in mourning is a difficult creature to reason with."

"Tell me about it. It's not like I haven't consumed anything in the last thirty-six hours." Donatello bears a bitter tone, but his thoughts are raked in uncertainty. "I guess he would bother me a lot less if I took away his reason too."

"It's time you took advantage of the vulnerability." Rockwell commends. "Once he's relaxed his grip, you're free to act as only you see fit. It's the best way to ensure that you bring your brother home. And that the other doesn't decide to try chains on you once more."

"I mean, chains, really?" Donatello scowls. Rockwell raises an eye ridge. "Did you not use chains on Leatherhead during a period of unstable actions?"

"That's not the same thing."

"I choose not to judge."

"All you do is judge."

"I express the correct opinion when I see fit."

"You know what?" Donatello sets the papers down. "You might not always be right, but your suggestion has merit. If it's the best way to get Leo off my case, I'll play his game."

"And I will find you your suspect." 

Donatello leans on the desk, smiling. "I knew you weren't as bad as you pretend to be."

"I don't pretend to be anything." He faces the computer. "And this is for purely selfish reasoning. Mainly, because I do not wish to become the next test subject."

A smug grin settles under sharp eyes.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

A marker at high momentum whacks Donatello in the forehead.

“Yow!”

Donnie rubs his temple from the ground.

Rockwell doesn’t bother hiding his smirk.

Notes:

I don’t like Rockwell. I don’t like Rockwell. I don’t like Rockwell. I don’t like Rockwell. I don’t like Rockwell. I don’t like Rockwell. I don’t like Rockwell. I don’t like Rockwell. I don’t like Rockwell. I don’t like Rockwell. I don’t like Rockwell. I don’t like Rockwell. I don’t like Rockwell. I don’t like Rockwell. I don’t like Rockwell. I don’t lik

Chapter 21: Over and Over

Summary:

MUTANT TURTLE wakes up IN THE DARK with a MUZZLE!

WHAT HAPPENS NEXT IS SHOCKING.

Notes:

I am so proud of this summary. You have no idea.

My goal was to post at least once this month.

Self challenge won! Huzzah!

Over and over again

When will this finally end

Digging- it's digging in

Underneath my skin

***

Raph wakes to a white pain across his face.

He jerks upright to get his bearings and locate the source, but one arm buckles the same second that they both rise. He's thrown to the side, slamming his shoulder onto the surprisingly warm surface beneath him, ragged breathing cutting through the silence as he tries to get a handle on his woozy world. 

Sleep glazes his blackened surroundings to the point that he can't make heads or tails of anything, and so he rocks his body, letting it sag forward, forearm keeping him from toppling.

His head hangs as he stares down at the impossibly black flooring beneath him, willing his frantic heartbeat to settle. If it isn't for the fact that he can feel the surface of it beneath his scales, he wouldn't even be able to tell that it's there. The notion has dread curling, even though he can't pinpoint why. He shakes his head to clear away the new anxiety, raising it to get a proper scan of the new area.

He waits for his vision to clear.

He waits.

And he waits.

And he waits.

And- okay, he does not have enough patience for this.

He's so used to white colored walls and fluorescent lights that he's less than surprised when his body seems eager to use the dark while it lasts. He represses a yawn that encourages the opposite of an alert ninja, blinking away the reflective tears.

He pulls his knees up to his chest, bracing his body to raise up into a kneeling position. He bends his shoulders as far back as his shell will allow, listening to the satisfying pops that break the silence. A couple more stiff joints experimentally cracked and he reasons that he has a fair amount of mobility returned, the endorphins helping to wake his lagging brain.

He flexes his hand and squints out into the darkness, but he has equally as much success seeing his fingers as he does the floor. The unnameable dread twists tighter.

It occurs to him that maybe it wasn't his surroundings that were the problem, and in a horrifying instance, he wonders if the mad scientist got bored with him and decided to- no, no, no, he wouldn't, he didn't-

He jerks a hand to his face on instinct, only for his palm to smash metal and seer hot pain into the right side of the face. His body spasms from the unintended assault, gasping in air as his vision manages to pick up on light, white spots flashing in and out of his vision.

He barely notices the relative proof that he can see more than one color, grabbing hold of the fixture affixed to his beak as they fade. His fingers can't lock over the small gaps that he feels and they slip out the same moment that they try going in, light pricks tapping the skin below his cheek bones. He tries again and the same tiny stabs nip at flesh as they resume their place, snug on the aching beak that wants nothing more than to have them gone.

His hands travel away from the criss-cross metal and talons brush the leather strapped to the sides of his skull, following them to the metal square behind his head. He tries to get his fingers between the leather and his skull, but the fit is too perfect. It's as if this was meant to be a second skin, inconspicuous before he knew of it, impossible to forget now that he recognizes it was there. He can't see it, but he knows what they did.

They muzzled him. Like he's some wild animal.

They- they locked him up and muzzled him.

This- it's a muzzle. A  muzzle!

Who does that?!

A snarl says just what he thinks of their audacity and he goes for the metal again, talons gaining and losing their hold, straining and clawing to pull the metal away from his skin, only to be continuously slammed in the face when his grip fails. The stings only set fire to the frustration that blossoms and boils until he can't hold it in anymore, and furious cry bursts free of its prison in his lungs.

At first, the break in the silence is refreshing, but then the searing pain takes hold.

He can feel how his action moves his mouth- how the new spikes along the sides of his jaw catch skin and hold it, embedding themselves into jowl with no remorse. He closes his mouth, but that only makes it worse. They refuse to let the captured flesh go, and it almost feels like they dig in deeper, stealing away the frustration to grant an agony that has him doubling over to claw at the floor and choke on air.

A faint trickle descends along his face like tears, warm droplets hitting his hands in slow successions. He doesn't need to see them to know what it is, a soft whine clawing its way out because they muzzled him. They muzzled him and he can't see and it hurts- it hurts and he's bleeding-

The spikes slowly release their prey a little at a time, letting him writhe in his prone huddle until they lay as bare pricks against his face, resting as a deceptively harmless nuisances. He gasps in air through a partially open mouth, curling trembling fingers into unsteady fists.

The moment that the pain dulls enough that coherency can sneak back in and rouse his brain, he forces himself back to his feet, stumbling on his first step. The black manages to swirl and swim around him but he barely registers it, moving forward until he touches the wall.

It's grounding against the hysteria; a sensation that he clings too. The cement is coarse beneath his fingers as he drops to his knees, one hand on each firm surface in his reach, inhaling through his nose. He focuses on the dark behind his eyelids and the hundreds of meditation techniques that his father coaxed him through, expertly locking his concentration on the first minuscule ounce of calm that taps his spirits.

He stays still, struggling past the weight of sensation, of pain and the wet, invisible trails from pointy metal against his cheek. He clutches to the distant memory of his father's voice, stretching out the calm that helps his world to right itself, and he simply breathes.

His eyes open, heavy and wet, and he brings a hand back over the metal.

He cups it, dwelling on the faint notion that he can't wipe away the proof of his weakness, and then he looks up. There's more dark, unsurprisingly, and no way for him to tell where the roof is. He knows there has to be an exit, but as he runs his hand along the floor, he can't remember if this feels like his Room or not.

Raph stands, left hand lingering on the wall, and begins walking. He locates each corner of the room, one of which with a disgustingly familiar drain that tells him he'll be here for a while. He heads from one end to the other while counting his steps and decides that this is not the same Room that he'd been in for... Who knows how long.

He wonders if this is some kind of new test, frowning out into the dark, but he's certain the room is empty.

There's no evidence of anything but him and these walls. He has no idea what could be expected from him or how he'd manage to complete instruction without any present.

He begins the circle around the room, feeling every inch of the wall because it would not be fun to wake up to a violent surprise, but there's no evidence of secret hatches. He does end up finding the cracks that outline a well-hidden door, but there's no knob on his side, so escape is not going to be a possibility. He growls low, satisfied with the rumble in his chest, the lack of pain from the action, and the way it slices through the silence.

He starts from the door and shuffles to the other side of the room. His brain is disoriented without anything to lock onto, convinced that he's bound to walk face-first into a surface, so he keeps a hand outstretched and movements slow until his fingertips touch. He gives in to the exhaustion in his bones, crumpling to the floor and slumping back, head bumping the wall, only the recoil when the metal buckle digs into skin.

He grunts, sending the black wall a disgruntled look.

He settles onto the floor, aware that lying on his side feels more exposed and compromising, but at least there's no cold to seep into the bones that won't stop dragging him down. He lays the top of his head against his arm, skin against skin as he brings his knees up, balancing his body so his m- the muzzle won't press against concrete.

He keeps his mouth closed, staring in the dark, and prays sleep comes quick.

***

He misses being able to lay on his back and stare blankly up at the roof.

He feels like he's closed his eyes a'hundred times, but he can't sleep.

The anxiety keeps him awake. He can't afford to lose control of his body. Every time he tilts the wrong way, the belt buckle digs harshly into the back of his skull and reminds him of its presence, and in turn, the existence of its spiky companions. When he wakes up because his head slipped and spikes became embedded in his cheek, he begins a frantic, clawing struggle to peel the muzzle off his face, a scream welling up his throat, coming out as something high and pathetic when his mouth stays clamped shut.

It breaks off in a sob as he swings his arm against the concrete. His breath hitches as he fights for some control, elbows on the ground and forehead cupped in his palms.

He just wants to sleep.

Is that so much to ask?

***

Raph can remember when his father decided to teach them how to adapt to the dark. 

He'd taken them to a pitch-black, unfamiliar area of sewers and requested them to stay where he set them. Each of them was placed in a corner of the room, and Mikey started wailing from the second that he left their father's arm.

Raph's eyes were wet too, but he refused to make any sounds. He wasn't scared of what else could be lurking and would find him, because their father had assure him that nothing was there. He wasn't. He didn't want to come off a big baby, like Mikey. 

He listened as their father's words crossed the boundless dark, circling him as a constant reminder of safety.

It felt like hours before Splinter urged them all to him. He heard the familiar too-loud pattering of Mikey's feet before his cries became muffled. He moves forward, one step at a time, wiping at teary eyes but breathing like his father taught them to do when they were scared and he wasn't home.

He reached their father and attached himself in his side, hands tight over fabric and burying his face in the robe. Leo was next to him a little later, sniffling as Splinter muttered about how brave they were.

His father had repeated the same training regime several times.

The location changed at least three times. He hated it at first, but the more the dark didn't attack, the less he believed that it might. They'd played a few games of hide-and-seek next, a new training that came with giggles and teasing and pride. 

It was after a few rounds, when Sensei finally found Donnie, that he answered the question that they'd been asking for so, so long.

"There are many things to fear in this world, my sons. The dark is not one of them."

Raph had said something. A snide comment aimed at Mikey.

"It is healthy to fear what prevents us from seeing danger."

He thinks Mikey might have kicked at him. He whined his righteous woes as Leo tattled loudly. Sensei's hand settled over his shoulder, warm and firm.

"Listen, my sons. There is nothing wrong with being cautious of what you do not know. But we, more than anyone else, have reason to embrace the dark. When we are within the dark, and we stay out of sight, we remain safe. It is here to assist, and I will teach you how to use it. One needs not fear a tool once they have mastered it."

Now, as Raph looks out into the black, he wonders if it was ever really theirs.

He thinks, like so many other things, it's something that they had to borrow from man.

***

Raph gives up on sleep. 

He begins pacing the enclosure, training his mind to accept the fact that no matter how far he walks, there will never be more past the wall. There's no deep impossible expanse. It's just him and the dark and the silence.

Nothing more and nothing less.

It helps to have something to focus on, but it doesn't take long for that fear to be tamed. He goes through a round of stretches and then establishes that he can do cartwheels from one end of the room to the other. He pictures the punching bag that he has at home, envisioning the fabric underneath his fingers, treating the air around him like the bag has taken its place.

He runs through every kata that he can think off. And then he goes through them again.

He goes through them a third time for good measure, plopping down to the ground as sweat soaks his skin, panting through a cracked open mouth. He sits, staring out into the dark as the air seems to swim before him. His eyes burn and his limbs shake, so he curls up, arms around his legs, and tries to focus on everything but his dry mouth and the pit in his stomach.

He stares out into the dark, gaze lingering on the estimated position of a hidden door.

***

Food never comes.

He waits until his stomach begins churning to let himself feel concerned. He swallows the little spit in his throat, wondering if Ferrall really did get bored with him and this is some kind of torture tomb of concrete. Maybe he's just going to let Raph whither away. 

Raph can't muster the strength to feel anything about it when there isn't anything that he can do. Not in here.

Heck, not even out there.

There's no control left to fight for. Ferrall decides everything for him- when he rests, when he trains, when he deserves punishment and when he doesn't, when he gets to breathe, when he sleeps, when he eats, when the pain begins and ends.

Whether he lives or dies.

Strangely enough, death doesn't seem as scary when it's not in his power to fight it.

Was this how Splinter felt? Knowing each second until he...

Well.

Raph was always mad at him for accepting it. He hates that he can understand now.

It's quite literally out of his hands. Even if he's not planning on leaving him in a concrete box to starve, Ferrall is bound to purposely or accidentally do away with him. It's inevitable and that very prospect should have been terrifying-

But, he's not... Scared. He's not even angry.

He can spit and hiss and fight all he wants, but nothing ever changes. Ferrall has all the control and zero room in his conscious for a shelled green freak like Raph. If this is how he chooses to kill him, there's nothing that he can do.

It's like being scared of getting punched as he watches the fist fly at him. It's just gonna happen, and it'll sting, then it'll be over. He can brace for it, but there's no point in fearing it.

Still, that doesn't mean it's not going to suck big time.

He doesn't realize that he's been nodding off until the muzzle bumps his knees and pain shoots up his chin. His legs kick out on impulse, taking him away from his position, carapace hitting the wall. He keeps his body bent forward as he takes in the room, confirming that the ache was his own doing and no danger is present. He can't see anything, but that doesn't phase him, ninja senses kicking into high gear.

He listens, motionless, while hot pain radiates as the spikes come loose.

The silence echoes. 

He locks his jaw to breathe through a yawn, keeping a calculated air intake, eyes watering.

He blinks the tears free and settles in a meditation pose, shoulders slumped and hands tucked under his thighs, aptly balanced as he allows his body to slip into a doze. His head droops slowly, eyelids heavy as exhaustion fogs his brain. His body jerks with every little slip forward, but he never actually wakes fully.

He'll take what he can get.

***

He can't take it.

His bones feel like they're vibrating with the need to do more than sit and stare.

He bites down a growl and yanks himself to his feet.

He's sure that he's normally in the white room by now.

He's probably been through multiple sessions.

He falls into a line of katas without meaning to, kicking and swinging at open air.

He moves with the aggression that's pent up and suffocating him, swifter than Sensei ever allowed in a dojo setting. He doesn't care that he's slaughtering the form or that he can barely track his own movements, dark or not, forgetting caution in favor of fluidity.

He regrets it immediately when his outstretched fist meets wall.

He chokes on the feeling and the oxygen in his lungs, falling back to clutch as his hand, sticky liquid from his knuckles smearing across his palm. He squeezes over the stabbing pains and flaring heat, forcing breaths to stay through his nose. 

He can't believe he did something so stupid.

He swears not to make the same mistake.

***

The vibrations dig into his bones, pressing down on his lungs.

The pain along his knuckles has calmed into something easily ignored.

He feels impossibly exposed.

His gut screams warnings.

He's leaving himself vulnerable, sitting out in the open.

He needs to move. He needs to do something.

He's not meant to be still this long.

He rises to his feet and raises his arms.

His knuckles ache as he curls his fingers into a fist.

The fear quiets as he kicks out.

***

He completes katas.

The punching bag feels his tempered wrath.

***

A migraine drills through the side of his brain.

The room echoes with his own grunts.

He trades the punching bag for Leo.

***

Katas.

Sparring.

***

He hits the ground.

This is the part of the spar when teasing ensues.

Where the anger leads to a brawl that sends the unfortunate brother rolling.

A skirmish that falls into pleas on a bad day and laughter on a good one.

His eyes burn with tears as he pants through quivering limbs.

He stands. Mikey is traded for the punching bag.

***

He can almost hear their voices- Leo, Donnie, Mikey- as he takes them on.

For ninjas, they never could shut up.

***

His brothers won't shut up.

He doesn't remember when he began losing.

He remembers hitting his knees, shaking and lightheaded, and thinking that he should stop.

Leo holds out a hand, but he ignores it.

He stands and fights through the clenching of his gut.

***

Raph falls and doesn't get back up.

The room spins and he wants to throw up.

It's stupid, that his body wants to hurl what it doesn't have anything to spare.

It's idiotic. And probably suicidal.

Kinda like him.

Better to die fighting, right?

He snorts.

The sound crackles rough on his throat. A smile stretches cracked lips.

It fades as he stares out into the black.

He breathes out, disappointed.

He can't remember the joke.

***

Raph can't pass the line of doze.

He doesn't feel anymore rested when his eyes open.

He sits and counts, just to see how high he can get.

***

The walls are hissing.

Wait, why are the walls-

***

Raph wakes up to his muzzle digging into the side of his face.

He turns over as he waits for the throbbing to die down, discomfort crawling down his neck from the new position. The fog over his brain seems to twitch, letting a single thought slip through.

It doesn't hurt. 

He sits up, a hand flying to the buckle on the back of his head. It's been covered in some kind of cloth, cushioned so sleep is no longer an impossibility. He lays down to test the theory, so lost in the jubilation of realizing that he can lay down without pain that he removes any chance of him actually being able to fall back asleep. 

He pretends he's not crying as he sits up, touching the metal and realizing that it's been loosened. The spikes are no longer as daunting, giving him slightly more space to open his jaw. He tries to figure out when this happened and if he was really drugged so that he could be made more comfortable, looking around the room despite being aware that there's nothing to see. 

It doesn't really add up to the mad scientist M.O., but he's grateful anyway. 

It takes a minute for him to clue into the fact that he actually does smell something and it's not his brain losing it on him. The smell envelopes the rooms and instantly has his stomach contorting painfully, gnawing away at his insides as he tries and fails to rise to his feet. He settles for a stiff crawl, sharp fireworks shooting up into his stomach.

He flinches when his hand touches a curved surface that has never been found in the dark before. It's cold to the touch and he follows it, fingers brushing over metal that's been screwed into the wall. He lingers over the familiar sensation of something that isn't the wrong side of comfortably warm before he turns his attention to the metal rim.

A light tap earns him a soft echo. More experimentation tells him that it's a bowl being supported by the rim. A tap in the middle has his fingers breaking the surface of liquid. His heart pounds in new adrenaline as he carefully scoops up the bowl of- soup. 

He takes it in both hands and finds that the bowl is a lot wider than the ones at the lair. The temperature is only a little warmer than that of the room. 

Hundreds of thoughts race through at once, but he doesn't acknowledge any of them as the bowl rises- until soft prick rests against the side of his jaw. 

He freezes, closing his mouth as he realizes that any motions to dump it through the muzzle were going to result in more of it hitting the floor than his tongue, especially if he can't open his mouth fully. 

He swallows, and the lack of saliva rolls down his throat like a blade. He's almost desperate enough to risk it, but he has too many distant memories of younger years with too-little food and what came with refusing any portion of meals.

He stares down at the invisible soup that is overwhelming his senses and forces himself to put the bowl on the ground. He stares, hands presses against the floor but around the bowl, just in case it were to disappear and his self-restraint was all for not.

He flies through every idea that presents itself, refusing to experiment until he's certain that it's a possibility, and he pauses the vague image of humans leaning over a bucket filled to the brim with water and apples.

The bowl is in his hands and his face is ducking forward and then the warmth of rice and vegetables are hitting his face through the muzzle with broth against his cheeks and he has an entire mouthful of food and holy mother of mutations- is it good. 

He swallows the first bite and then the second and a third- pulling away when he gets a squishy veggie of some sort with it, not caring about the broth staining or dripping down his face. He dives back in after he swallows and takes a breath, inhaling the food with as much desperation as a strangled person takes in air.

The soup crashes into the empty pit that was his stomach, filling him with a heat that rivals that of the room and scratching the itch that allows him to breathe easy again. 

He barely processes the moment that the soup starts to lessen, muzzle hitting the bottom of the bowl and refusing him the little morsels that are left. He flips the bowl over, broth, bits of rice, and squishy vegetables landing in his palm. He pokes the bigger pieces through the muzzle and into his mouth, shaking the wet off his hands. 

He's pretty sure that soup was the best thing that he's ever had in his life, but he's also been alive long enough to know that's the body's immediate reaction to all kinds of food after a period of not eating. 

Now that his hunger is satiated, his body turns its attention to the other pressing concern. He mouth stays shut as he yawns, setting the bowl back to the floor and trudging away from it. 

Raph goes back to his side of the room and flops down to the floor. He has the fleeting note of panic as his head touches the ground, but the bare minimum of discomfort brings a conflicting barge of emotions that almost crush him. He closes his eyes, arms sagging beside him as a tear trails the side of his face, and focuses on the warmth of a fogged brain and full stomach.

***

When he wakes, the room has lost the soup smell.

He misses it as he trails a talon along one of the lines that forms a door. The stand for the bowl rests to his left, but the bowl itself is gone. It makes him nervous. There could be multiple reasons for it to be missing. The main two conclusions that they amount to say it's gone so that it can be refilled out there or it's not coming back. 

He hates the second one. Now that the hope of future food has been rekindled, it gives him a reason to fear the return of the hunger pains. 

He shakes his head, standing as the faint hissing continues about him. He hasn't been able to find the origin of the sound that's slowly faded into background noise. He'd reached as high as he could along the walls, but no vents revealed themselves. Then again, he can't touch the roof, so he really has no idea what's up there. The idea that there's space he can't identify as safe makes him uncomfortable, so he tries not to dwell on it. 

Raph almost thinks the hissing reminds him of those white noise asmr videos since it doesn't seem to be choking the life out of him or knocking him out entirely. 

He has a funny taste on his tongue, but air travels in and out of his lungs without problems, so he accepts the hissing as another part of his living situation within the cement box. 

He refuses to acknowledge the goosebumps over his arms or the feeling of impending doom. He doesn't let his thoughts stray to the intense notion of having eyes on him, because no matter how many times that he circles the room or how hard he listens, there's never anyone there.

It's just him letting his imagination run away with him now that he's not dead exhausted or caught up in starvation. He's not going to be a big baby.

So, instead of thinking about it, he begins a round of katas. 

Then, only slightly lower than the sound of hissing, there's scuttering. 

He stiffens, returning his arm to the safety of his chest, wrist pressed against plastron. He hesitates in his next action, certain that his mind is playing tricks on him until he hears it again. 

A light scuttling across the floor, not even a few feet away.

His first instinct is to panic, but that's overlapped with some level of sanity. Out of everything he's dealt with, a singular tiny insect should not have his heart pounding this hard. 

He lets out a frustrated grunt, stomping over to where the sound originates. 

He's not going to be scared by the unexpected presence where there shouldn't be one, but he is going to figure out where it came from. Maybe if he does, he'll figure out how it got in. Maybe that could be his ticket out. 

Raph spots something- a flicker of yellow- and he whirls.

There's only dark, and him. He turns back, certain that he's by a wall by now, and reaches out. 

His hand bats air. He takes another step and throws his arm, determined to have his fingers brush the concrete domain. He's introduced to more air, and he obeys the impulse to dash into the black. He reaches out- waiting, waiting, waiting- for his hand to touch or smack or for him to run straight into his enclosure. He moves, faster and faster and faster until he feels absolutely stupid and skids to a stop, search the black frantically. 

He's walked across the room, like, twenty times! So where the heck is the wall?! It's not like it could have WALKED OFF! IT'S A WALL!

He crouches down, hand on the floor, listening for the previous scratching in the dark. 

The area is silent, deprived of the hissing that had given it an ominous character. He watches as the impossible becomes possible, and a shadow moves within the black. He rises up cautiously, trying to figure out how that even makes a lick of sense, muscles tense when it appears again.

It's large, clawed hands hang limp at its side, rising to full stature. It takes a step- heavy foot thudding the ground- and Raph tracks the wires, looking up to the piercing red glow.

It shrieks, filling the space between them, mandibles closing with an audible click.

It takes Raph a moment to process, mind doing back flips between shock and confusion, body leading him backwards.

Eyes wide and heart pounding, the truth finally seeps in. 

OH, FOR THE LOVE OF-

Notes:

*vibes while putting him through misery*

Hey, so, these chapters are gonna come slow for some time because I accidentally got obsessed with a tumblr au that I'm working on and it's ruining my writing for this one.

I'm not throwing in the towel. Updates will simply be sparse until my inspiration returns. On the bright side, it should be downright awful and agonizing? Hopefully?

(I need more songs. Some of the ones I chose previously aren't giving me the right vibes /smh. Sometimes, I am my biggest roadblock.)

Also, can I say I love you people down in the comment section. You guys rock!

Chapter 22: Panic Room

Summary:

October themed update! Horror! Pain! Trauma responses! Yay!

Notes:

I don’t normally do this. And probably won’t in the future. But, uh, bug-horror warning is relevant for this chapter.

I thought it would be NEAT to write about a fear that I had personal experience with, and, erm, may or may have not triggered myself. While working on this.

Had to keep putting it down and coming back. So.

If you have bug phobia/s! Be warned! Stay safe!

Welcome to the panic room

Where all your darkest fears are gonna

Come for you

***

Another shriek crosses the area between them.

It always has to be THAT, doesn't it?! DOESN'T IT?!

Raph stomps a foot, horror overwhelmed with fury, hands in the air before he throws them forward in an irritated gesture. That freak of nature is dead! Zapped! He hasn't seen a glimpse of that thing since he blew it up! So either he's losing it or-

Raph would probably knock his head against the wall if one existed.

...Now how is it fair that of all the mutants in New York, Ferrall just happens to get his hands on the ONE thing that hates his guts more than anyone and wants to wipe him off the face of the planet as much as he wants to get rid of it!

What is this- his new game to get Raph to kill something?

Bring him something they both want squashed?!

As if in response to the frustration lining the thought, the cockroach brings out the saw from the folds of its chest, loud buzzing claiming the air. Raph's skin crawls and his gut twists, urging the impulse to flee and hide. His hands go to where his belt should be, only to return empty. He looks down at his hands as problematic talons flex with his fingers, and then through the dark that offers no assistance with the looming threat.

Well that's just great because this thing isn't going to be the one to die tonight!

He doesn't realize that he's breathing heavily until the roach shifts. His airway makes a strangled sound, legs taking him away from the danger, hunching in on himself. It steps forward and he steps back. They stare at one another, chainsaw filling the silence, and then it lurches.

Long, steady strides take it to Raph before his brain can catch up, and then he's sprinting in the opposite direction with a desperate yelp that pricks needles into flesh. He loses his footing, startled by the sudden blast of pain, and then it's in front of him. There's a sharp stab into his arm as the roach locks its grip and throws him down.

He hits the ground, a jolt up his spine, and shoves against the shielding on its arm. His talons fail to pierce and it repeats the process, slamming him twice more. It raises its chainsaw and brings it to his face, but he reacts quickly, turning on his side so it drills into the black. The cockroach yanks him into the air and then hurries to separate the saw from the floor, but he swings his weight and kicks out, ramming the freak of nature in its ugly face.

It shrieks and drops him, allowing him to break into a run.

Raph puts plenty of space between them, watching as it furiously removes its buzzing appendage from the black nothingness that they stand on, and feels the momentary flicker of smugness. The muzzle disconnects from his face, arm throbbing with the pressure left over, and then the realization truly sinks in. He's overcome with the bitter irony.

After all this time, he got his wish.

He's finally allowed to hit something that actually deserves it.

It's not Karl, but he'll take what he can get.

He lowers his hands, staring the red glow down. It bristles, chainsaw buzzing wildly.

A familiar hatred swells and he growls the only warning that it gets.

You know what? Forget the muzzle and the cell and the stupid mad scientist. I took you down once, and I can do it again. How about you come get some, you murderous piece of-

It charges and Raph barely has the chance to dodge the spinning blade. It whirls, centimeters from the bars of his muzzle- wait, did it go through the mu- and he throws himself forward before it can try that again. He grabs at the connection between the cockroach and the saw, horrifyingly reminded that it's a large mass of slime and grime. His gag reflex knocks him in the throat as he releases it, flailing to get the sticky sensation from his hands. A cry tries to escape, but he clamps his mouth shut when spikes press against delicate skin, more focused on the gunk between his fingers.

He doesn't notice the movement until he's been slammed in the plastron by a massive arm, knocked to the floor. He rolls out of the way of another strike, bounding to his feet and lurching away from its outstretched claws.

His palms press against the ground, leaving a trail- ew, ew, ew, gross WHY- as he comes to a stop. He stays low, trying to focus on the giant creature across from him and not the sensations of snot on his skin, watching as it lumbers closer. He has no idea how he's going to get close with that chainsaw flying everywhere. He's seen what it can do to the ShellRaiser.

It's larger and grosser and unnatural and out for blood and far more intimidating than he remembers, so unbelievably smug with those wide steps and steady gait that makes it the perfect gruesome monster to leer above its victims-

And it's at that moment that he realizes that he's never seen it run.

Maybe it can't? Advantage, then. Good, good, brilliant.

He could use that. It's like the lasers. Find the weakness. Exploit it.

No, no, no, no, bad idea!

He can't do this. It's staring at him with that inhuman red eye, locked on his every motion, predicting the best way to rip him to pieces and plant its babies in his skin-

Stop thinking stop thinking-!

He brings both hands to the side of his head, barely cognizant of it advancing, struggling under the weight of the images planted in his mind. They aren't real. It's not real. He-he can make it not real. He's a warrior. He's a ninja. He's awesome. Fear is nothing. This means nothing.

Kore wa nani mo imi shinai. Kore wa nani mo imi shinai.

He looks up, eyes dilating, forcing air into his lungs.

He's got to be faster, smarter, cooler. Don't let it see him coming.

Kore wa nani mo imi shinai.

Raph sprints out toward the dark. He skids to a stop well out of reach, watching it match his direction. He waits until it's a few feet away to repeat the sprint and skid. He gets the dumb roach used to the pattern until it decides that it's bored with his little game. It throws out its chainsaw in front of him, and he leaps. He sinks his talons into the slimy intestines, grabs the end of the saw, and drags the cockroach down with him.

He lands on his carapace and squeezes his eyes shut, holding the saw above him and listening to the sickening buzz as the saw embeds itself into slimy flesh. He expects to feel a spray of goo or snot or whatever toxic grime resides in the creature. He doesn't dare breathe in case that risks letting it into his lungs.

DIE DIE DIE DIE-!

There's no pressure, no grime, and no steady buzz of saw.

He peeks an eye open, and finds his hands empty.

He gasps in the air that was denied as he sets both hands back on the ground, heart pounding against his plastron as he scans the dark. There's no body at his feet and no slime between his fingers as he pants and scans, trying to figure out why his nerves are on edge.

His muscles are riddled with tension and his skin prickles with goosebumps. He gets to his feet, slow and unsteady, trying to ignore the surging panic.

He turns, and comes face-to-chest with a slimy white blob.

It reaches for him, what was once a cockroach now a mess of sludge. It's limbs and body melt as it lurches, slime dripping down and pooling at their feet. Raph wants to scream, but a hiss escapes instead. He whirls to run and trips, hitting his knees as a gurgled shriek echoes, white goo sticky against his leg.

He yanks his leg free and bolts, ignoring the sensation along his ankle, determined to get as far as possible before it can catch up and he-

-runs right into a solid in the black.

His body had been bent forward and his muzzle took the force of the blow. He stumbles back, spikes latched into flesh and launching fire along his face, dizzily noting that he'd found a wall.

He lands on his rear, consumed by the flames of agony, tears welling in his eyes. The air smells stale and strangely metallic and small spots of yellow flutter in his vision. He's unsure how a world that black could be so out of focus. Also, how did he lose the wall.

Raph squints, baffled, as if that might make it radically appear before his eyes.

It doesn't, so he rolls onto a knee, reaching out warily.

Fingers brush the firm surface, flattening as he continues to lean. He steadies his weight against it, pain dying down to a familiar ache. He can't remember why he was so worried about the wall being gone in the first place. It was a wall. Walls don't move.

He groans and falls back, slumping to the ground. His eyes burn and his muscle ache for some undetermined reason. He doesn't particularly care about his physical state right then. He must be really losing it if he actually started to believe that wall wandered off. Next the vent will start talking to him, or the roof will fly away.

It's mildly amusing to imagine the four corners of the roof spinning like a fan blade as it disconnects from the walls. Sounds like something Mikey would say. He considers the black, smirking drowsily. Must be the slow-creeping insanity talking.

Raph hopes his brothers are okay. He can't remember how long he'd been locked up, but it had to be a while, right? Where they free? Did Ferrall have them?

He hates not knowing.

He hates that he prefers thinking that they're sitting in Room of their own, because that means that they aren't letting him rot in this black tomb.

"̶Y̸o̸u̶ ̶d̶o̸n̸'̶t̵ ̵r̵e̷a̵l̷l̴y̶ ̵e̴x̸p̷e̶c̷t̴ ̷u̶s̶ ̷t̸o̶ ̸t̵a̷k̸e̶ ̴t̵h̴a̷t̴ ̷k̸i̵n̶d̵ ̴o̸f̴ ̴a̶ ̸r̷i̵s̴k̷ ̴j̴u̵s̷t̶ ̵f̵o̷r̸ ̸y̸o̸u̵?̵"̶

He sits up. 

The voice is fuzzy at best, bring a breathless anxiety with it. The words are mushed and blended like they were never meant to be understood at all. He narrows his gaze, trying to track the memory, the sound, the fear. A light migraine pulsates, making the squint into more of a wince. He continues the chase, understanding slipping and clinging like water through his fingers.

They're- in a small space. Them. Him and his brothers. And the- the voice sounds like Leo's. It sounds like- but when did he say that? And what does it mean? Why does it hurt- when he doesn't even know when- or how- or why-

A growl from the dark.

He snaps his body to face the sound, shoulders hunching. He's met with silence, but he doesn't buy the safety. He listens, searching for any signs of the perpetrator, wondering how anything managed to get into his concrete cage. Did Ferrall let it in? And it's- what, just been watching all this time? How did he not notice?! He's a ninja for crying out loud!

Ninja sense are apparently useless because in that very next second, he can hear the grin in Razhar's voice before sharp teeth sink into the flesh of his shoulder, crunching and cracking carapace as pain spasms in a blaze.

"Gotcha-"

-he gasps as he punches out, flat on his back and ready for a world of pain to continue. His brain is quick to put together the pieces, and he swallows as he remembers where he is. His body trembles from the agony that he knows doesn't exist- at least, not anymore.

Karl can't touch him. Karl can't touch him.

His hand brushes over to his shoulder but there's no hint of the wound that he can feel in flesh, despising the memory of bone separating from bone.

He shudders before he forces himself to his feet, glad he puts out a hand when he discovers how close he is to the wall. He doesn't normally sleep with the wall in front of him. He sleeps with it to his left and to his carapace, as far back as he can be from the door. He must have been tired to pass out here.

He wonders if maybe he rammed his noggin, as yellow dots swirl unnaturally in the black.

It would explain why his head hurts.

A spark of blue in his peripheral has his attention in an instant.

Blue fire flickers innocently several feet away. There's no sign of firewood to feed the flames, but there it is, growing slightly before his eyes. He steps away warily, pressed up against the wall as it grows, but then it stops. It's bright and strong and somehow manages not to light up the area, stubbornly keeping its glow purely for itself. Raph hesitates, uncertain, whipping his head to face the next fire that blossoms into a full blaze.

They begin popping up along the walls and he quickly scrambles away from the one that he's leaning on before they can reach him. Within moments, he's completely surrounded.

Wait- wait, he knows this.

First comes the fire then comes the rock music and then comes the-

Two giant eyes peer out from the black, a low hiss and the flicker of a pink tongue. Raph waits for the snake babies, the stage, the zombie brothers- but the snake has other plans, crossing over the flames in mock show of power. He doesn't understand what's going on.

It was a dream; it was a nightmare; it's over.

And yet the snake sways in front of him, real and daunting and leering, as it reveals it's piercing fangs and the flames glow brighter.

He goes to run, trapped by the flames that are closing in, turning just as the snake lurches. He screams, lifting his arms in a futile attempt of defense before he's swallowed by the giant maw-

-only to lower them again when nothing happens.

He looks around the boundless dark and pushes himself off the wall behind him, brain whirling to catch up with events. There's- there's something big, massive in the dark and he's- he knows what it is knows that he can't fight it- what is it he's fighting- what? Why is he fighting? There's- there's nothing there- just, just walls and black, he knows that.

Just walls and black. Just roof and walls and black.

Raph cups his hands behind his neck and huddles in the safe position, heart pounding and adrenaline quickening his breaths. He feels like something's watching him. He feels like he's being watched which is impossible because he's alone. He's alone and he's stuck in this cell where he doesn't have a speck of light to even check if something even is out there-

"Raphael?"

His breath catches. He tears his eyes open to scan the dark, heart pounding as he shakily holds to hope. He heard him. He knows he heard him so he climbs to his feet and staggers forward, listening for heavy steps. Slash?

"Oh, Raphaeel."

Slash!

He turns in surprise to find him standing off to the side, far out of his reach, mace planted firmly on his shoulder. He doesn't seem to see him and Raph's eyes light up. He means to cry out, stopped by the pricks of metal. Raph doesn't let it phase him as he starts moving, so relieved to take in the familiar face that he doesn't notice the unnatural way his head tilts as he spots him, mace dropping carelessly to the floor.

The spikes are coated in a red glaze, scraping the color into the black as he drags it forward. Raph pauses, steps sputtering out, listening to the eerie screech of metal.

"Guess what?"

He looks up, alarmed as the fist opens to dangle a torn red cloth, movements slow and precise. The plastered grin remains, hilt firmly in hand, three strips of color along his arm. "I fixed it. I fixed everything."

...Spike?

He steps back and Slash's dark pride echoes, "I did it for you. For us. Everything you needed. To be free."

No. Nononono-

"I know you. I know you better than anyone. Now you can be happy. Now you're FREE!"

He charges, suddenly, cutting his mace through the air. Raph only manages to dodge because of the distance between them, eyes caught on the strips of colors, on the red coating spikes. A large weight slams him in the plastron, throwing him against the invisible wall.

Raph forces his head in the game, barely missing a blow to the skull.

"You wanted it and I gave it to you! Who's the real monster? Am I next, brother?"

His arm is caught as he tries to run, superior strength tossing him. He flips in the air and lands on his feet, only to find Slash right above him as the mace comes down. He can barely keep up, lost in the blur of guttural roars and brutal swings, claws tearing into skin whenever the brute catches him. He heads for the wall in an attempt to spring off it and over his assailant, hoping to get a second to catch his breath, but the mace crushes his leg before he can.

He chokes on a scream, a safe whine escaping through the restricting muzzle, body hitting the ground. Slash lumbers up beside him, grasping the lip on his plastron, nails stabbing above his collar bone as he growls, "You're no brother of mine."

He throws him down and swings. Raph feels everything as the mace caves his plastron in, exploding in a flare of white hot fire, drowning in the manic laughter of someone who's supposed to be his ally his friend his pet his-

-hands are shaking as he remains huddled against the wall, talons locked over the metal of his muzzle, trying to get it off his face. His eyes are burning and he wants to throw up. He's being watched by something. He knows he is because he's been on alert for hours and it's got his body freaking out but his ninja sense can't pick it up and he doesn't know what's out there.

It's big and it's dangerous and he's going to die.

It's going to tear him to pieces and he's not going to be able to do anything about it.

He's sure of it with everything in his being. He knows. HE KNOWS.

He can't breathe he can't breathe why can't he breathe-

He doubles over as he tries to get breath back into his lungs. He's not hurt- he's not hurt but he can't breath which means he must be panicking. He's helpless and he's vulnerable and he's not helping his case by having some kind of panic attack while he's being hunted and studied as some monstrous thing's next prey-

"-Is the little turtle scared?" He's pressed against the wall, a furry arm on his throat. Karl hovers over him, manic smile wide with bloodlust as he drives Mac's bloody spike into the bridge of Raph's shell. He can't move- paralyzed- weak- as lightning pain shoots up his side and Karl keeps drilling. "Just tell me know when it hurts."

Raph whines, crackling and pathetic, conscious of the liquid dripping down the side of his shell. Karl tilts his head and preens, "Oh, yeah. You can't."

Karl rips it out, brings the dripping object over his plastron, and says, "Let's see if we can't get you free of that. Hold still."

Raph hears the metal snap and can only watch and feel as his skull crumbles inward under sheer force of malice and the avalanche of agony-

-gets comfortable in his pitiful excuse of a working brain. He knocks the palm of his hand against the side of his head, frustrated with the thumping of his heart inside his skull and the churning of his stomach because they're distracting from his watch. He can't go to sleep. He can't go to sleep when every instinct is waiting for something to happen.

Raph's so tired. He's tired and he's sure that's why this- this paranoia and conviction of doom is so strong and blinding. He feels like he hasn't slept in ages and maybe his brain is introducing this ache in order to confirm his suspicions.

He's not insane. He's tired. That's all.

Maybe. Maybe he can afford a rest. Maybe a short one. Couldn't he?

He moves to trace the wall back to his sleeping spot-

-when something shoots from below to wrap around his arm and the cuff, dragging him to the floor. He barely manages to catch himself before slamming his chin against concrete, trying to wrench his arm free of what feels like a vine.

He's trapped in a concrete box! How are there even plants-?!

There's a vine wrapping up his other arm, dragging it flat out, inching for his shell. There's a thin string looping around his neck, curling around his carapace, forcing his cheek onto the grass. They're coiled around every limb and pressing his plastron into dirt, sliding into the smallest openings in shell.

He can feel them exploring the one safe area where nothing should be able to reach. He tries to yank himself free as thumping steps come closer, long wiggling strings of green reaching for his face, throat closed off when he tries to pull away from it. He screams as the forest goes black and it closes around his face, disrupting any chance of air. He's suffocating under the smell of fertilizers and leaves and clean-cut grass and he can feel it prodding and slipping past scales to slither under his skin as-

-Raph hits his knees, tearing blindly at the muzzle so that he can breath again. He quickly realizes that it's not cutting off his air flow, arms suspended as he tries to figure out why he thought that it would. He lowers them cautiously, heart racing and surroundings swirling, panting as he fills his lungs with air and tries to rid himself of the smell of- of-

His stomach growls and his heart lurches. Soup.

It's soup and all of the sudden he is keenly aware of the fact that's he's starving.

He gets up, stumbles, and hits his knees. The weakness doesn't stop him as he realizes that he's not at his normal sleeping spot, so he stays low and feels along the floor until his hand bumps metal. He scoops up the bowl and something crawls out.

He feels it touch his finger and dash up his hand. He screams, muzzle slashing at skin, tossing the tainted liquid and batting away the tiny creature as it hurries for his shoulder. The bowl echoes and swirls at it hits the ground, liquid on his legs, but he can't think about that now.

He continues swatting desperately even after he no longer feels it, heart pounding as he scopes the area. It's useless. He knows it's useless.

It's in here with him and he can't see it.

A hiss crawls up his throat as he continues moving away from where he left it. Surely, it was more interested in the food than him- the food that's on him.

Raph squats down, sticky droplets over scales, and frantically scrubs the sensation away with his palms. He hears it, a faint sound in the dark, skin crawling as it makes its way across the wall. It's not even trying to hide and he can hear it everywhere. It's taunting him and he brings his hands up to his head, pressing against the straps.

He squeezes his eyes shut and hisses, loud.

Stay away stay away stay away-!

A beat of silence rings; only broken by the sound of his own heavy breathing.

There's a scuffle. And then another. And another.

He stands, lightheaded. There's more than one. There's more than-

Oh, no. Oh no no no, please, please.

He remains frozen in his daze, goosebumps crawling as the sounds continue. Raph startles himself with a chirrup when another appears out of nowhere and walks right over his foot.

The total and utter lack of boundaries has him scrambling in the opposite direction, stopping only when his carapace crashes into the wall. There are more scuttering sounds, so many more, and he realizes that he's in a very compromising position.

He should stay with his carapace away from the wall, but what if that leads to them surrounding him while he's in the open? He can't risk that, but he can't press up against the wall because that might give them easier access to his shell so they can burrow themselves inside of it inside of HIM and why is he thinking like this why would they do that why are there so many bugs in here its a cement box there's no way for him to get out much less for them to get in-

He can hear them all in front of him, scurrying around and traveling the walls, and his arms come up in a safe huddle, carapace against the wall as the cockroaches- that's what they are, aren't they AREN'T THEY- why is it always COCKROACHES- travel directly above him.

They aren't touching him, but he's certain he can feel them all over his skin, walking over scales like they're finding the warmest position to begin forcing their way inside his veins-

He sucks in a frantic bout of air and he scratches at his arms frantically, making sure that not a single cockroach is tainting skin or chewing and burrowing beneath- oh please oh please no- hissing when talons slice through skin- why would he do that now he's gone and given them an opening- why would he do that-?!

One crosses his foot and a whimper escapes as he covers the bleeding cut with his hand, clamping down to make sure nothing can get in. He doesn't dare open his mouth and he keeps his eyes shut because it's not like he can see them anyway, flinching as one crosses over his shoulder and don't move don't move maybe if he stays still they won't be able to tell the difference between the warm floor and warm scales.

And then there's one on his plastron and having his mouth shut isn't enough it's not enough they can get in but with the muzzle there's no way to put up another barrier between his innards and the insect demons of his nightmares.

His breath hitches with a sob because there's more on him- he can feel them- but he can't move don't move please for the love of everything don't move or they'll know he's there and they'll do so such worse-

He can't tell if they're in his shell but everything itches and it's all he can think about now.

He knows they're trying to find a way inside and he's never wished that he wasn't acutely aware of pressure on his shell more than this moment and he knows that they're not the innocent little creatures that his brother say they are they're finding a way in and getting inside and they'll devour him from the inside out because why ELSE would they want inside and there's an itchy presence on his legs and arms and the sticky area where his fingers sit over the cut and their little antenna are feeling it like they know there's an opening, a way inside him, they're going to bite down and craw under his skin to gnaw on guts and veins-

And he wants to scream- MAN how he wants to scream but there's one hanging from his muzzle and he can hear so many scurry scurry scurrying all around him and he can't move can't make a sound doesn't dare even breathe or they'll get in they'll get IN-

Don't move don't move don't move don't move don't moVE DON'T MOVE DON'T THINK DON'T BREATH DON'T THINK DON'T THINK DON'T THINK THINK THINK DON'T LET THEM IN-

"Raph!"

He shrieks, talons sailing at the unforeseen danger, a grip catching his thrash. He can still feel the cockroaches as they make trails over his skin why are they still here get them off he's moving why is he moving don't move get them off get thEM GET THEM OFF OFF OFF-

"Holy-! Dude- wake up!"

A heavy thud against his chest and he jolts upright with a gasp, knee jerking up on instinct. His wrists are locked in a separate grip as the entity that had decided to punch him rolls to the floor.

He looks around frantically, his world a blur of colors as he tries to lock down the hysteria that turns each breath into desperate wheezes. He yanks his arms back and his hands come free, frantically wiping down his body to make sure that there were no more roaches on his skin.

A hand on his shoulder. A worried voice, getting louder and louder-

"Raph!"

Raph freezes, trimmed nails pressed over skin, and looks up, pale as death.

Three pairs of eyes, masked in purple, blue, and orange, stare back.

 

Notes:

Next update in December!

Then I’m (hopefully) going to try and get back in the two week schedule next year!

See you then and wish me luck!

Chapter 23: Ghost of You

Summary:

Since it’s the holiday season, let’s get fluffy!

Feel free to ignore the ominous aftertones :)

I’m sure they don’t mean anything

Since the love that you left is all that I get

I want you to know

That if I can't be close to you

I'll settle for the ghost of you

***

"Guys?"

He stares at the shelled entities framed by the familiar backdrop of home. The tv hums behind them, pizza boxes littering the floor with a few discarded controllers and blankets. The weak padding that serves as their couch sits him in the pit, a half empty popcorn bag spewing from his lap and all over the floor.

"Hey." Leo looks him over with a tense frown. "You good?"

"That was some nightmare." Mikey gets up from the floor, evidently the one who decided slamming him in the plastron was the smartest bet to waking him. "You need a hug?"

"I'd stay out of range until he processes the fact you punched him." Donnie recommends from his crouch next to Leo. "Like, far out of range."

"But I was helping!"

Raph brushes the popcorn off his plastron. "You hit me."

"There we go."

"I was snapping you out of it!"

"It's not okay when Leo does it and it's not any better when you do it." Raph grumbles as he scrubs as his skin again, half expecting to see movement under the scales. He looks up as Leo makes a sound of understanding and Donnie sighs, "Cockroaches?"

A warning look. "Not talking about it."

"I mean, it would make sense after the day you had battling a mutant roach. Sometimes repressed fears can take form in other ways when our brains attempt to process-" Leo bops Donnie on the head, way gentler than Raph would have done it, but the off button works once again. Raph runs a hand down his face. "Thanks."

"Yep." Leo takes a handful of popcorn from his bag and Mikey seems to decide that he's safe enough to do the same. He is not, and Raph slaps his hand away. "You. Punched. Me." 

“It was more of a- bonk!”

“I’ll bonk you!” 

"You already hit me! Twice!" 

"Because you punched me!" 

"You're so ungrateful." Mikey whines as he lets his arms sag in front of him. Donnie rubs his head, but Raph knows his pride took more of a hit than anything else. "Tell me about it." 

"Alright. Alright." Leo soothes despite being the offender to at least one brother. "How about we just finish the movie and get to bed before Splinter-" 

"-was pretty understanding about it, actually."

Raph watches Donnie type on his laptop, a comic book planted in front of him for some real entertainment while his younger brother babbles. His plastron rests on the back of the chair, arm slung over it, chin balanced on scales. "What? You sneaking out behind everyone's back to break into an alien prison and getting locked up?"

"I had it all under control. Mostly."

"You were caged." Raph's stomach turns. He flips the page. "In an alien prison."

"Detention center."

"Don't care, Dexter." The page crinkles and he releases it. "Did you really go out and get yourself locked up because I wouldn't play match maker for you and April-"

"No!"

The denial was far too fast and flustered for him to buy it. He levels him with a glare. "I didn't mean I wasn't going to help you save her dad."

"Wha-well, yeah, I know that." Donnie's gaze darts from the screen and back, face bright red. "I just- uh-you know, I-?" 

"Walked right past us?" Raph challenges, hoping for a believable lie. Donnie shrinks in his seat and fury brings Raph to his feet. "I knew it! You coulda woke any of us up but you just left! I can't believe you'd be that stupid-"

"-to go solo?! That's just asking to get your ship blown!" Mikey shrieks at the tv. "Take the team! Always take the team on abandoned alien ships! Go solo and YOU DIE!" Mikey whirls to face him and Raph stares down with mild amusement. "Raph, tell him!"

"Let him die." Raph finishes his pizza, elbow balancing his body sideways. "Jerk has it coming anyway." 

"YEAH! DIE!" Mikey decides with zero hesitation, throwing chips at the screen. Raph leans over his shoulder to grab some before they all end up on the floor. "Scream any louder and you'll drag Sensei in here."

Mikey clamps both hands over the bottom half of his face as if preventing any chance of the words climbing around his fingers. Raph shoves some chips in his mouth, uncaring if crumbs slip between the sheets that his little brother hasn't vacuumed or washed in weeks. "Sides, they're totally gonna save his butt. He's not gonna learn zip and everyone's gonna move on with their lives."

"Spoilers!" Mikey gasps in offense. Raph raises an eye ridge. "You've seen this before."

"Well I forgot."

"Not surprised." He whacks him with the pillow with his free hand and Mikey flails as his body tips to the side. "Shocked you manage to keep anything in that empty skull."

The pillow makes its way across the room. "I can't heeeaarrr." 

"Yeah, yeah." 

Mikey throws chips at him. He puts rest of the ones in his hand in his mouth. 

"Jerk."

Raph nods in acceptance, aware that the only reason that his eyes are burning and his bones are weights is because Mikey's had a long night of horror comics and deadly squirrels. He wants to be in his own bed, but sleeping isn't in the cards for either of them just yet. "Pass the pizza."

"What's the magic word?" 

"Now." 

"Good enough for me." Mikey hands the box over his head, eyes training back on the screen. It takes approximately two minutes for him to find something else to be mad at. "HEY! YOU MEAN HE HAD THAT THE WHOLE TIME-?!" 

"-it was just a ruse! I had us rescuing a bomb!" Leo deflates to the floor, head in his hands. Raph lowers himself down next to him. "We all thought it was Karai, dude. Kinda creepy that he had a whole bomb mannequin of her sitting in a storage closet o somewhere though."

Leo lifts his head, crinkling his beak. "When you put it like that..." 

"It was always weird." Raph confirms. "Dude's physco. Not sure why you're letting him get to you." 

His older brother sighs, bringing his knees to his chest. "I thought it was over."

"You and me both." Raph leans against the bed, looking up to the roof. "Not really how things go for us though, huh?"

"Couldn't it? Just once?"

"With our luck?" 

Leo groans. Raph smirks wryly. "You wanna kick it out in the dojo?"

A pause. "I really should be making another plan..."

"Foot's not going anywhere."

"I know, but..."

"Think someone told me exercise is good for the brain." 

His older brother stares at the wall and then looks at him. "Donnie?"

"...Sounds like something he'd say, doesn't it?" 

"Yep." 

Leo watches him. 

Raph thinks he would rather those mopey eyes go back to looking at the wall. "Just sayin'. I don't care either way."

His brother smirks, somehow tinting it with sorrow. "You're really that eager to get your shell whooped a third time in row?"

"Nah. Just looking forward to the look on your face when I clobber yours."

"Big words."

Raph gets to his feet, holding out his hand. "I can back them up." 

"Oooh." Leo accepts the offer and Raph brings him to his feet. "I think I'll call that bluff." 

"Good." Raph heads to the door, letting his brother pass through and then closing it on his heels. He brings it back open as Leo stumbles and whines at him, snickering as he strides to the dojo. 

His older brother catches up quickly.

"Heck. Not to be Mikey, but this all could be worse."

"Oh yeah? How." 

Their steps match as Raph shrugs. "I dunno. He could have strapped a bomb to her."

"He wouldn't do that."

Raph doesn't even stop walking, letting the silence say it all.

Leo sighs, "...Right."

He snorts. "Or, you know, we could be-"

"-hundreds of miles from a home infested with Kraang without Splinter and Leo might as well be dead-!" Donnie throws a tool across the barn. They hear it thud against the wall. "It's so hopeless! We already failed! We're together but April and Casey don't even have their family. He had a sister. A sister! And now she's- how am I supposed to fix a city of Kraangatized people? It could spread any day now. It's only a matter of time until they get us." 

Donnie kicks at hay and it scatters around them like the fireflies that hover in the trees. "I don't even know if the retromutageon will work against these guys. Who knows what the Kraang have changed to stabilize it? Two months and I've done absolutely nothing to get us home! I don't know what you guys want from me! I'm useless!"

"You're not-"

"I am and we all know it!" Donnie presses his palm between his eyes, voice cracking. "Raph knows it."

Mikey puts a hand in his shell. "He just wants Leo back."

"And I don't?" 

"He's- We're scared. It's scary." Mikey leans his forehead against his carapace. "He doesn't mean stuff. You know that." 

Donnie stares at his desk, eyes glassy. "Some days that gets hard to believe, Michael." 

Raph steps further into the shadows. 

He turns to go back to the house-

-and finds himself in the dark. 

His head throbs as he stumbles forward, unsure why he's on his feet. He falls on his knees to grip the ground, listening as the hissing begins anew. He doesn't remember it stopping and he doesn't know why this migraine is twenty times worse when he just ate, but his stomach has resumed that awful empty feeling so maybe he'd been sleeping longer than he thought. 

His arm throbs as he hunches over, trying to remember why he was in pain. It's at the tip of his tongue, blocked by the drilling against the side of his skull. He lifts a hand to press his palm against his forehead in a poor attempt to make the pain go away-

-as his door opens and one of his brothers lets themselves in. He lowers his hand to check on the invader, glaring at a blurred Leo as he stops beside his bed. His impossibly infuriating brother stares at him, worry pinching his brow, and Raph wishes he could be left alone for five minutes.

"Another one?"

"Do you need something?" He spits in lieu of an answer, rolling on his side to hide his visible weakness in the pillow. His carapace faces his brother, a clear message to get as far away as possible. The sound of his own voice is grating to his ears, ringing in tandem with the agony that's diluting his world into a haze of misery.

"Hold still." 

Leo somehow manages to keep his voice at the perfect pitch, so Raph chooses to trust whatever is about to happen. Something icy falls on his neck and he winces as it shoots down his spine and pokes at his brain. It doesn't hurt, but he doesn't particularly like it either.

The bed creaks as Leo sits next to him, a steady hand on what he concludes to be an icepack and the other brushing over his carapace. "Just give it a moment, okay?"

Raph shivers as it remains, but he doubts Leo's doing this just to torture him, so he stays buried against pillow. He focuses on the trails of his brother's hand against his shell, unaware that his death grip on his pillow is relaxing until he's blinking bleary eyes open, taking in the dark room, light from the hall slipping onto his bed.

He turns over, warming icepack falling from his neck, and Leo looks up from his phone. His brother scans his face as he sits up. Raph's head is as clear as it's going to get despite the dull ache, but he hopes that some pain meds might fix that.

He owes his brother a thank you. Therefore, he vocalizes, "How'd you know to do that?"

"Internet." Leo gets to his feet with a smile. "You were out like a light."

"You try sleeping with a drill in your brain."

Leo picks up the icepack. "Hard pass. You cou'da told someone."

Raph shrugs. "Phone screen was too bright."

The sympathetic look that he gets makes him want to slap the icepack from his hand. 

"Did it hurt that much when... Uh..."

Leo hesitates, and Raph gets to his feet, "Couldn't really feel anything once the worm was in there. Kinda that whole point. Donnie says my brain'll get over itself."

"Still. I'm here to help."

"Break into my room, more like." Raph grumbles good-naturedly. "Who gave you permission to be in here anyway?"

"Sensei." Leo shoots back evenly as he follows him into the hall. "Right about the time you decided to skip out on training this morning."

Raph rubs his forehead. "Gonna hear about that."

"He'll understand." Leo pats his arm. Raph sends him a tired glare. "Then he'll make me drink five different teas that taste like dirt."

"Oh, come on, the herbals remedies do help with all kinds of-"

"-adorable!" Mikey squeals as he throws his arms around Raph's shoulders from behind, squeezing him into a very uncomfortable and unnecessary embrace. "I don't care what Leo says, you two are the most precious couple in the history of things."

Raph's face is the shade of his mask as he shoves him to the floor. "We are not a couple."

"You have her space number!" Mikey argues from the ground. "She faced down an alien army for you!" 

"Yeah, she's great." Raph agrees dreamily, before catching his brother's smirk. "But that does not make us a couple."

"You kissed her! And you guys are like-" Mikey scrambles to his feet and pushes his palms together until they're as close as possible to touching without completing the act. "-thiiiiis close to kissing. Every time you meet!" He throws out his arms. "Every! Time!" 

"We are not!" Raph sputters. "I just like looking at her eyes-!" 

No, wait, that doesn't sound right-

"-when I'm close to her I start to get all hot and-"

Stop talking stop talking stop it-!

"-maybe I want her to kiss me but it's not like I'm trying to-"

Mikey presses a finger against his mouth and he settles into a grimace, only refraining from removing it because he really needs to shut up. "Ah, my silly, love-sick, adorable brother-"

He swats the hand away, "You call me adorable one more time." 

"-you don't have to be shy with me! I know all your heart's deepest secrets-"

"Do you know it wants me to hit you?"

Mikey twirls around him, hands mimicking a spaceship. "-and I will always be your wingman, even when your girlfriend is flying across the cosmos-"

"I don't need a wingman-"

He throws himself down on a knee. "-and when you get married and have a bunch of lizard babies-" 

"Married?! Lizard babies?!" 

He jumps to his feet, arms up into the air. "-I will be the best wingman uncle ever in the history to exist!"

"We don't even know what marriage means to them!" Raph throws up his hands frantically. "What if I have to take a blood oath or something crazy?! And babies?! I'm not ready for that! I'm seventeen!" 

"Dude, you fight giant alien dinosaurs." Mikey blinks. "Why are you scared of babies?" 

"You're the one who knows my deepest secrets." He challenges through gritted teeth. "Can't I just have a girlfriend and have my life be normal-"

"Girlfriend?!" Mikey cups his own cheeks with his hands, positively beaming. "I knew you were a couple!" 

"Sometimes I don't know why I even talk to you when I have so many-"

"-other options! He's an alien turtle! What do you want me to do, call a vet?!" 

"We both know that's not what I meant." His younger brother mutters as he scoots his laptop away, just like Raph knew he would, given enough pushing. "I guess there's no one better than a turtle to figure out alien turtle autonomy. Okay, okay, let me see what I can do."

Raph sets Chompy down as Donnie gets up from his seat. He hovers anxiously as his little brother brings the chair over, sitting in front of him. Chompy watches sleepily, giving a soft chirp when his younger brother reaches out.

"Careful!" It takes everything in Raph not to rip him away when Donnie picks him up. He can't help it if his lil' buddy is fragile, especially right now.

Donnie readjusts his grip but doesn't stop the examination. He runs his fingers over the back of his shell, turning him over to feel along the plastron. Chompy looks mildly confused, but he doesn't fight the improntu check-up. He tries to lick Donnie when his hand is close enough, but the ninja makes sure he misses his mark.

"He's been like that all morning. Just- quiet." Raph presses. "He doesn't want to play or eat- is he sick? Is he hurt? I didn't mean to hurt him! I should have been keeping a better eye on him! What have I done- I hurt him-"

"His shell is fine." Donnie interrupts calmly, brushing over red scales. "At least, as far as I can tell. Keeping natural color. Nails are good. Eyes are clear." 

Donnie sets him back down. Chompy seems to consider standing before settling in a crouch, arms and legs brought in close to his shell. The scientist clicks his tongue thoughtfully. "Has he moved much today?"

"Not since this morning." Raph wrings his hands. "He seemed fine when he woke up!" Then, it hits Raph that he doesn't actually remember all that well. Was he fine? Was he slower than usual? More needy? Did he miss obvious signs?! "I don't know what happened!"

"Raph. Breathe." Donnie turns him back over and Chompy reaches out to nuzzle his arm. Donnie feels the skin along the area where the front legs slid into shell, before turning his attention to the back legs. "Here we go. You see that?" 

Raph drops forward urgently, a thud against the desk. "What?"

"Extra folds of skin." Donnie reports curiously. "Looks like he's trying to grow bigger than his shell."

"What does that mean?" Raph demands as Donnie sets him back on four legs. "Is that bad?"

"It can be a sign of overfeeding." His younger brother shrugs as Chompy chirps and stretches his neck out for pats. He obliges with a small smile. "It's not a huge deal at the moment. Mostly just uncomfortable, unless, of course, it goes on for an extended period of time. After that, it can lead to liver failure or bloating or a malformed shell..."

Raph stares, feet glued to the ground, horror tight around his soul. He has to be just about the worst baby alien dad ever!

Donnie glances up before clearing his throat. "For earth turtles anyway. It's a fairly common thing. Most domestic turtles don't know when to stop eating. As long as food is available, they will consume. We have more human metabolisms and we're fairly active, but this little guy might have some similarities to an earth turtle. Could have something to do with living on a lava planet. Food is sparce." 

He scoops up Chompy and passes him over to his distraught owner. "He just needs smaller portions. He might be huge one day, but that could easily take a millennia. He's not an adult turtle, either, so you can't feed him like you used to feed Slash."

Raph stares at him, baby turtle safely tucked in his hands, processing.

Donnie gestures to the laptop. "We could go over dietary options for the time being...?"

"Yes." He blurts frantically, desperate to put a stop to whatever might cause Chompy discomfort or worse. "Anything. Just tell me what to do."

"Stop giving yourself an panic attack, for one." Donnie reaches over to pull the laptop back in front of him. "Chompy's not in immediate danger. This could be normal Volcanthian Fire turtle growth for all I know. I get Tokka recently gave you official guardianship and I know it can't hurt to be cautious, but there's no reason to-"

"-push us away like this." Leo mutters as Raph gives the trunk a final blow, knuckle throbbing and eyes burning. "If- If Shredder's still out there... We need each other, now more than ever."

Raph doesn't think that's fair. He wasn't the one who'd disappeared from their huddle at the grave, leaving them to hurt alone. He didn't snap at their little brothers to go to the farmhouse when they followed him into the forest like lost puppies, even though he wanted to. He didn't ban them from saying anything as he took out his wrath on the greenery around them. 

He just doesn't want to talk. 

What was there to talk about anyway?

Their father is dead. Really gone. And he let it happen.

"We need to stop Shredder." Donnie mutters from his place on the ground. It's the first thing that he's said since the funeral was finalized, and it earns him everyone's attention. He stares at his knees, arms coiled tight. "He can't get away with this."

"We have to find him first." Leo prompts gently. "And we have to be ready."

"I'm ready." Raph announces immediately, voice strong. "What do we do?"

"Like I said. We have to find him." Leo decides, eyes soft in gratitude. "Everything else is a matter of weakening him and putting an end to the threat." 

"Karai might know." Mikey leans on the tree to the right of the one that Raph has chosen as a punching bag, arms crossed and voice timid. He peers between his older brothers. "She could tell us. Can't she?" 

Leo looks to the side. "If she's able." 

"Karai's a tough cookie." Raph flexes his hand. "She'll be kickin' butt in no time."

"We should go back to the city." Leo walks over to Donnie, crouching to his level. He holds out a hand, waiting for him to process the request. "Check up on her. Find out what she can tell us. Get some things from the lair."

Donnie tentatively reaches out and Leo takes his hand, leading him to his feet. He turns to Mikey as he walks up, offering a fax smile, small and hopeful. "But, first, we should get something to eat. I'm sure April and Casey will be happy to grab whatever we need."

Mikey pauses, scanning his face, before light enters his eyes. "Anything?"

"Anything editable." Mikey grins, faulty but genuine, and Leo holds out a hand. He latches on, eager to please. "Trust me. Chief Mikey has got it covered." 

Leo rolls his eyes, facing Raph. There's a question in his eyes, and Raph isn't sure he has an answer. "We'll be here for another hour or two. Then we should head out."

"Fine by me." He dismisses, avoiding looking at the entwined hands. "You guys get moving. I'll catch up."

They've had time to get all cried out, but that doesn't make any of them okay. This would work out for the best. His younger brothers are covered, getting the comfort that they need. Leo will breathe easier when he has something else to think about. They don't need to be bogged down by him and his instability. 

Leo tilts his head, voice level. "We could always eat when we get back in the city."

Raph can read between the lines. He knows the offer is sincere, coming from all the right places, and he knows what he should do. He should invite them to stay. He should hold himself back; saving his anger for the ones who deserve it. It's what his Sensei always taught him.

And yet, he can't. He can't take another minute of being responsible, of being in control. 

Or better yet, he won't. Not today. 

So the sooner they're out of the way, the better.

"Nah. Mikey doesn't want to be out when it's dark." Raph gestures to the sky, "You guys get moving before that shop closes. Only one in a hundred miles."

"Not technically." Donnie whispers, earning a deadpan. Leo smiles sideways, a tired sort of fondness. "Plenty of time to argue semantics later."

Donnie simply slips his hand out from Leo's and starts walking toward the farmhouse. Mikey's eyes widen, pulling away to circle around the eldest, taking off after him. Leo looks to Raph, and he waves for him to follow them. A slow step backward, a moment of hesitation, and then all three of his brothers are fading into the treeline.

Raph intends to turn away, plotting to head further into the trees and farther from any person's view, but his body jolts forward instead. His brain flushes with a panic that should be from the unexpected motion when he knows- he knows- he's supposed to walk away, but the thought is buried under the crushing knowledge that his brothers are leaving.

He wants to call them back, to tell them he was wrong- anything to make them stay.

His brain clashes with a divide of memories. He's supposed to be plunging deeper into the forest, tearing at anything in his way, getting lost in the ever pressing darkness. He shouldn't be trying to follow after his brothers, each step prevented by an unrelenting weight that threatens to knock him off his feet, surrounded by little specks of sparkly yellow that dart into his- woah!

He rams the object in his path, thrown onto the ground by his own momentum, looking up as the glittering spots of yellow solidify into brown and green. He watches the trees continue to sprout, blocking his path after the brothers that are leaving him behind- 

He scrambles to his feet, scanning for any chance of getting to them.

He shouldn't been here- he shouldn't be there- he shouldn't- he didn't-

"WAIT!"  

He leaps to grab a branch and it cracks under his weight, knocking him into a large limb that sends him flying away. His carapace flattens grass as he lands, the back of his head knocking into the tree behind him. He throws the wood, watching the horizon disappear from view, light glow blocked by the massive treeline. "NO!"

He takes off once more, foot snagged by a root, landing in the dirt. He yanks his foot free, stumbling to his feet. "STOP! STOP IT!"

He doesn't even know who he's yelling at- his brothers have to be too far away to hear him. They had to be- didn't they? Why? Why did they leave him? What did he do? What did he- they just left him but he didn't mean to he didn't-

His carapace hits a trunk and he looks up in horror; the shadow of the tree consuming him entirely. It spreads along the grass, creeping further along the forest floor. He knows what he's supposed to do- he knows what he did- run the other way, escape into the forest, find solace in the quiet- but he can't leave them- can't leave them- they left him- they left- don't leave- he doesn't want to be alone he can't be alone- he needs them he needs them he needs-

-AIR. 

Raph tears his eyes open with a gasp.

He stares into the pressing darkness, choking on the sob that presses from his throat. He can't open his mouth- can't get in enough air, wheezing through strangled lungs as he squeezes his eyes shut, an agony perminatly embedded in his skull. He can't think past it and that must be why his body is having such a violent, pathetic reaction. 

He grasps at the metal on his face, pulling it back as much as he dares, desperate to get a proper breath in lungs that can't manage the impossible feat. 

He wants the silence back. The oppressing sound that sends his ears ringing or even the steady hiss of that stupid vent- anything is better than the sobs that tear passed the barrier forced upon him, or the knife stabbed in his brain. He claws against the concrete below, a rough sensation that flows up his fingers and a scratching that barely penatrates the scream trapped behind clenched teeth. This has to be what dying feels like. 

He's dying- he has to be- he has to be-

"-just about the biggest loser." Raph stretches a leg out, shoving back the smirking Mikey from his space. His younger brother is not to be deterred, cheeks smooshed in hands, leaning forward in the bean bag. "Suuuure."

"No one actually likes Jones." Donnie decides from the couch, arm hiding his eyes. "No one more than himself, anyway." Raph slumps in his spot with a snicker, keenly aware of Leo's eye roll from the movie bucket. "That being said- he's tolerated. Barely."

"What brainiac said." Raph concurs wisely. Leo tilts his head theatrically, pointing a VHR at him. "I'll take Donnie's opinions at face value as soon as he admits he wants April to be his girlfriend."

"Who? What? April? Me?!" Donnie darts upward, pratically falling off the couch, "I never said-!"

"Point." Leo inserts the VHR where it belongs. "Proven."

"Casey's your best friend! ADMIT IT!" Mikey pokes his face and he growls. The younger turtle quickly retracts his hand. "He. Is. Not. Get over it. I don't need anyone." 

"Not even Splinter?" Leo asks skeptically, attention clearly elsewhere. Donnie flops back on the couch, expression contemplative. "You'd be dead without him."

"Maybe when I was five." He smirks at his aghast younger brother, purposefully aiming for the buttons within easy reach. "I could do without any one of you."

"Is this your way of telling us you're moving out?" Leo sets a movie to the side. Donnie yawns, leaning on his arm. "Good riddance."

"Noooo!" He yelps when Mikey tackles him into a hug, groaning when he clings around his midsection. Mikey ignores his obvious scowl and gives him a heavy dose of puppy-eyes. "Don't leave meeee!"

"What would be the point?" He grumbles, patting the carapace in his reach as Mikey sniffles. "You guys wouldn't leave me alone even if I did."

Leo scoffs. "Because you would be so much better off."

"Yep." He crosses his arms behind his head. "Pretty much."

"You wouldn't have electricity." Donnie points out. "Or running water."

"Meh. I'll just make you give me some."

"Ooooh. Lead me to your secret lair. Guess I know why we find you."

"Give me a break." Raph shoots the smug brother a look. "I'll blindfold you and throw you in the back of a van so you can't find your way back."

"...Do you mean the Shellraiser? You're throwing me in the back of my own van?"

"Yes."

"...That still sounds like kidnapping." Donnie muses. "Leo, tell Raph he can't kidnap people."

"Raphael, do not kidnap your brothers." 

They all jump, heads turning toward their Sensei as he strolls to the kitchen.

Startled looks are exchanged before Mikey's laughter drags them all in.

"I'm telling you guys- I can make an app to track him." Donnie whispers with a sly grin as soon as he disappears through the curtain. "Just promise not to snitch."

"We are not putting a tracker on Sensei. Being a ghost is a part of his charm." Leo supplies as he comes over. Donnie considers the statement, eyebrow raised. The eldest drops next to his immediate younger brother to pat Mikey's head. "Anyway. I'll find both of you before Raph can get settled and me and Mikey'll drag you back here."

Raph mocks, "How?"

Mikey gasps, "Leader senses!" 

"Exactly." 

"That is not a thing."

"Prove it." Leo grins deviously and Mikey giggles. Raph throws up his hands. "You prove it!"

"I will. As soon as you man up enough to leave." Leo looks over the bright blue image with a disgustingly familiar face on it. "Which will be pretty difficult with Mikey glued to you."

Mikey kicks the beanbag gleefully, nuzzling the trapped plastron. Raph slumps against the end of the couch, looking up to the roof. "You guys are the worst."

"As long as you stay here, we'll be whatever you want us to be."

A yawn. "Mikey doesn't speak for all of us."

"Now I agree with Donnie."

"Only when it's convenient for you, ey?" 

"We would all rather you remain." Splinter provides suddenly. Raph's face burns as he gives him a knowing look, cheesesicle in hand. "As much as it pains you."

"Guess you're not going anywhere." Leo smirks. "Boo-hoo. Stuck with us."

Donnie drapes a hand over his forehead. "Ohhh, the suffering."

"You guys won't be watching forever." He ridicules over their laughter, grin tugging at his cheeks, heat streaking his face. "I'm a ninja for cryin' out loud! I can leave whenever I want."

"Oh yeah?" Leo leans an elbow on the couch. "Then why don't you?"

"Waiting for the right time.”

"You always say that." 

"Cause I mean it." Raph plucks the movie from his hand and tosses it behind them before his older brother can get it back. Splinter chuckles, making his way from the room. Leo puffs out his cheeks, face reddening, and he returns the devious grin. "Just like that. Poof. Gone."

"I can still see it." Leo gets to his feet and hops over the couch to retrieve it. "Just like no matter how many times you run off, you'll always come runn-" 

The eldest picks up the case, only to notice a missing weight.

He holds it up accusingly. "Where's the VHS."

"Oh, this?" Raph mocks, pulling out the black object that he'd dumped against the pillow next to his shell while his brother had been distracted by the moving target. "You mean the movie that would have been long gone if I didn't have this numbskull dragging me down?"

He gives Mikey a friendly bop on the head and his baby brother whines, refusing to relax his grip.

"One day, this'll be me, and you guys'll have to beg to get me back." 

"As if we'd ever-" 

He tosses the Space Heroes film and Leo yelps as he scrambles to catch it.

"Just you wait, brother." 

Leo glares at him, precious movie hugged to his chest. Donnie snickers in the background, minutes away from sleep. Raph smirks, clearly the winner, hand against Mikey's shell.

"Just you wait." 

Notes:

This last scene was inspired by a conversation that I had with my family.

We were silly children, but I like twisting innocent things through narrative <3

Happy holidays, ya’ll! See you next year!

Chapter 24: Hurricane

Summary:

The chapter that’s half fanfiction and half intrusive thoughts

Friendly reminder that “dead dove do not eat” IS still a tag

Notes:

Frankly I don’t even know why I wrote this chapter but it demanded to be a part of the story ☠️

I can't pretend my pain away

I can't outrun the pouring rain

In my head, in my head

It's like I'm hiding a hurricane

***

Raph doesn't know where he is.

Wait.

Yes, he does.

He's in the lair.

He blinks, head tilting to take in empty surroundings, trying to figure out how he could have forgotten that.

He's obviously home. Where else would he be?

His carapace is to the bedrooms, and his plastron faces the turnstiles. He doesn't know why he's standing under the arch of the hallway or where he intended to go. He tries to recall what he was doing before this, or at least get his legs moving now that his brain decided to rejoin reality, but all he earns for his attempts is a wave of anxiety that keeps his feet firmly glued. 

It's so intense that he momentarily forgets to breathe.

So he remains standing there like an idiot, fighting the urge to pop into his shell.

He doesn't, because, ew. Whimpy much?

"Raph?"

He looks at the couch. Leo has his elbow propped on the back of it, watching him with a frown. Space Heroes is on the screen. The shouting characters fill the space between. 

"What's... Going on?"

Raph decides to make his way over, stepping down with the utmost confidence so Leo doesn't comment on his random brain death, a mocking comment stirring in his throat and landing on his tongue as he-

-watches Leo's body peel apart at the seams, revealing the Krang Thing buried underneath. It launches itself for him before he can move, limb wrapping around his plastron to drag him forward. He goes for his sai and it cackles, jaw popping open with a sickly crack, blade sinking into the pink mesh as it gets closer. It doesn't react to the blow, holding him steady as it throws him into its mouth, biting through his extended arm as he screams-

"Raph."

Raph must have only thought about lifting his foot. He hasn't moved.

He can't move. They'll notice.

Who? He looks around the room. No one else is there.

He shakes his head, exhaling as he stomps down the first stair. He opens his mouth-

-but someone else beats him to it. A shriek fills the air as Karai pops out from behind him, snake form sliding easily as she throws herself at him. He kicks her off and she goes flying. He rolls to his feet and Leo's next to her, reaching for her. She shoots up immediately, clamping her fangs on his brother's throat, blood spewing from his lips before Raph can react-

His heart pounds hard. His hands tremble.

The frown doesn't fade, now paired with a judgmental brow raise.

A wave of heat passes over his face and down to his neck. Just what he needs. One of his brothers, or worse, his Sensei to walk in and find him having a panic attack for no reason. Mostly because they wouldn't take 'no reason' as an acceptable answer. 

Leo asked a question. He needs to make him back off. 

He needs to speak. He can't speak. Well, he can, but he shouldn't.

Why shouldn't he? 

"None of your business."

Raph's voice is a steel wall against the piercing blade of his gaze. Leo lowers his offense first, sheathing the accusation, shrugging him off. He goes back to the show, uncaring of the temper that loves to rear its ugly head. Raph should be able to relax now that he's gotten away with his blatant lie, but his heart's still racing despite the pressure firmly fixed on his chest.

There, see? He spoke and it didn't kill him.

Raph clears his throat and-

-Leo jumps him, hand latching over his face as his older brother's weight drags him down, knocking his skull into the floor, unrecognizable eyes an impossible black while the grin twists his features as he slams- slams- slams- slams-

He forgets what he wanted to say. Leo doesn't bother looking his way, too preoccupied with his show. Raph hands are shaking, so he brings them to fists. He thinks maybe he should go back into his bedroom instead of wasting his time on Space Heroes. He's tired, anyway. He could use a nap. That's the better option. He should just go. 

Raph should, but he doesn't.

He's basically a fixture now, nailed to the ground for everyone to see.

He hates being out in the open. It's making him vulnerable.

That's dangerous.

Is it?

His body seems to think so, and his mind trusts its judgement.

He's in danger. 

He should tell Mikey that, shouldn't he? 

Mikey's still sitting on the couch, content with the feeds from both his phone and the show playing behind him. He's snacking on the leftovers from his latest abomination, actively ignoring Raph's long-distance stare. He doesn't seem too worried about any threats.

He opens his mouth. He shuts it-

-at the sight of swelling bubbles on his skin.  He screams as he stumbles back, falling as they travel up his arms, reaching his shell and neck. He loses airflow within seconds, grabbing at the bubbles of skin and pus as a blurry Mikey hovers over him, laughing when they hear the first pop, and then the next, pain consuming and burning as his body explodes a hundreds times with the force of the-

"Ha!" Mikey jeers. Raph flinches harshly from beside him, watching as he points at the screen. "That's what you get!"

Mikey looks at him, expectancy in bright eyes, and he looks at the tv. There's nothing playing. That doesn't make sense. There's a smear of a show. He can't tell who's on the screen or what they're doing. The buzzing in the background might be music or it could be a conversation. He doesn't know. He can't tell.

Something's wrong with the tv. Something's wrong with him. Something-

-throws Raph from the couch and onto the floor. One of the fear mushrooms are on his face, roots tangling down around his throat as he chokes, unable to get in air. He can't peel it off, room blurring around the edges as the eye glows and shoots a flurry of gold in his face, yellow specks that almost look like- 

Mikey sits up on the couch to give the tv more of his attention.

Raph feels like he's going to pass out. He tries to stand but shaky legs release him back onto the surface. He feels dizzy. He feels nauseous. He feels like he's going to throw-up-

-all over the floor. He heaves out the painful lumps and they unfurl, two balls of fur that pry a shout from Mikey. They transform before his eyes, shrieking and massive in a horrific flash. One goes for Raph and the other jumps his younger brother. His world blurs into a mess of hissing purple as Mikeys cries out in agony, claws tearing at his skin and teeth sinking past his plastron with an echoing crack-

"Dude." He looks at Mikey, who frowns. "Were you even paying attention?"

Raph hesitates. "To- what?" 

"Of course not." Donnie grumbles, shaking his head in distain. "Why are you even here?"

Raph looks around the lab, waiting for the answer to the question to show itself. It does not.

It doesn't need to. Donnie's closing his book, a hard thump against his desk, while plowing straight into a rant. "I don't know why I bother talking to you if you're not even going to listen. Much less comprehend a single-"

"Donnie." His voice is strangled, small. "What's happening?"

"Other than you wasting my time?" Donnie snaps. "You're being insufferable. Does that clear anything up?"

"No." He whispers as his eyes roam the room. "I..."

He looks at Donnie. He's back on his computer.

Something sparks in his chest, hot and tight. He grits his teeth.

"Hey!" He slams his fist on the desk, walking around to him. "I'm talking to you."

"And I'm not listening." Donnie asserts without missing a beat. Raph shoves at the monitor and Donnie has to catch it before it hits the desk. "No-!"

"There is something seriously wrong." He growls as his eyes are caught by Pulverize's containment unit. He blinks. Pulverizer is blue. 

"See!" He turns, pointing at him. "Like that!"

Donnie isn't by his desk. Raph hears him from the other end of the room, asking, "What are you going on about?"

He looks at Pulverizer as something cracks. Pulverizer breaks through the casing, flooding out in a wave of guts and slime. He crashes into Raph and knocks him onto the floor, crashing up his nose and into his lungs even as he holds his breath, blindly fighting to get out of under the impossible current as it smothers and burns-

He takes rapid steps back. The goo shifts passively in its containment. 

Shaking his head, Raph takes a few deep, shaky breaths. "I have a really bad feeling, Don."

"Shouldn't you be leaving the feelings to April?" 

Raph tracks him to the ShellRaiser. "This isn't the time! I don't know if I'm hexed or sick or what but- but everything's all out of whack! It's wrong!"

He stops in front of it. There's no response.

"Donnie?"

The lab is quiet. He opens the door as a-

-massive green hand locks around his waist and hoists him from the floor. Speed Demon cackles as he shakes him violently, tongue flying about unnaturally with his movements. He slams Raph into the ground and pulls further out of the vehicle, hand wrapping constrictly around his arms. Raph thrashes uselessly as the ShellRaiser roars with life. He suddenly pulls his hand back and starts the vehicle, crazed laughter ringing as it speeds forward and massive tires run over plastron, a harsh crack echoing as he screams-

The door pulls open and Donnie demands, "You can't leave me alone, can you?"

Raph's hand goes to his chest. He says, "We're in trouble."

"No one's in trouble." His brother dismisses as he closes the door behind him. "Except my sanity. That's in major jeapordy."

"It's not a joke!" Raph insists, the wrong side of whiny, "Stop screwing with me!"

"You're the one harassing me." Donnie mocks as he walks over to his desk. It's empty. The computer's gone. Where did the computer go? "But you wouldn't be Raphael if you weren't blaming someone else for your issues." 

Raph looks over his shoulder. He knows what happened the last time stuff started disappearing.

"Donnie," He watches him pick up a vial off the desk. "Where's your computer?”

"I don't think that's any of your business."

"It is when my brothers are being idiots."

The glass flies at him. Raph's sais are in his hands, colliding with the glass to knock it to the side.

Miraculously, it doesn't shatter until it hits the floor. He snaps, "WHY'D YOU-?!" 

"WE'RE the idiots?" Donnie shouts over him. "We're not the ones who can't listen to basic instructions! We're not the ones who have a brain so small that we make up for it in muscle! We're not the ones who spend every day DESTROYING the self esteem of the PEOPLE WE'RE SUPPOSED TO CARE ABOUT!"

Raph's heart skips a beat, insides curling into an uncomfortable ball.

"No." Donnie growls. "That's just you." 

Raph looks down at his sais, if only so he doesn't have to meet the accusing glare.

"Get out of my lab, Raph!"

"Not gonna happen!"

"Why not?! This has nothing to do with you!"

"You asked what I wanted?! Fine! I want you to fix the tv."

"That's your guy's problem! You rely on me too much! You need to learn how to figure things out yourself!"

"Oh, don't play noble with me!" 

"You can't help but butt in everywhere that you're not wanted, can you?" 

"I don't have to take this." Raph can’t think straight. He can’t think.

He goes to leave, but his brother's voice follows. "Oh, yeah! Run away! Wouldn't want you to have to face your idiocy!" 

He stops. Oh no. He didn't not- "What did you just say?"

"That you're an idiot." Raph whirls, and Donnie meets his gaze smugly. "Everyone knows it. Even Mikey knows more than you."

"Are you kidding me right now?!"

"He's made more cures and contributions to this team than your fists ever have." Donnie leans against his desk, crossing his arms. "We all know it's true. You push him around and act like he's brain dead, and all it does is prove how heartless and insecure you really are."

"Mikey gets lucky!" He insists as he stomps over. "Mikey does whatever he wants because he knows we'll pick up his slack! He doesn't even know what he's doing most of the time and then acts like he's some genius!"

"More than we can say than you." Donnie sneers. "All you do is bring us down. You ever think that you're the reason that I might want to leave the sewers? That I might be tired of you reminding me of my failures over and over? That I'm done with your crass judgment and snide comments? Like you could ever do half of what I do?"

"I never said-!"

"But that's just it, isn't it? You can't grasp anything that I know, so you try and play it off like you're not an idiot."

"Take it back." Raph demands, fist curling.

"Why? Because you can't take the truth?"

"It's not true!"

"It is! And you just can't stand it! You can't stand how dumb you are! How weak and slow and useless your place really is! We don't need you. We've never needed you. A violent loser who only knows how to punch what we say you should punch. It's pathetic."

"You take that back or I'll-!"

"Punch me?" Donnie's tall. Donnie's always been tall, but now he seems to grow with every step towards Raph, eyes bright red against the shadows crossing his face. "Tear my shell off? Slap the head off my shoulders?"

Raph can't move. Donnie grins, teeth white against the black. "What good is a helpless brute without his meaningless threats? Or do they mean something? Would you follow through if we pushed hard enough? Would you crack open our shells? Knock out all our teeth? Cut off our fingers one by one?"

Raph's sais shake as Donnie holds out his hand. "Would you?"

"̴̬̀Ǵ̵̫o̴̻̚ ̴̟͐ơ̴̤n̵͚͊.̸̻͊ ̷̰̾Ṭ̵̚ĕ̷̥l̷̹̇l̶͈̍ ̴̘̿m̴̖̂ḛ̵̛ ̸͕͑w̵̧̎h̷̫͝ą̸͂t̸̤͑ ̴͖͂y̵̩͝o̴͇̍u̶̠͂'̷̠̍r̵͍͒e̶̫̊ ̸͋͜g̵̗̕ó̴̙ḯ̶̟n̴͙̚g̴͖͊ ̵̟̆ṭ̶̿o̶͍͆ ̶͚̄d̵̘̓ô̶̝ ̵̩͝t̴̺͑o̵͕̽ ̵͓̽m̷̧̈e̴̳̅.̷̢̓"̴̍ͅ

Raph's head jerks to track the whisper. Donnie grabs his wrist and leads the sai over his palm.

"Do it." His little brother whispers, back to his normal size. "Teach me a lesson. Prove you're not all talk. That big, baad Raphael means business." He places the blade against his fingers. "Or are you scared?"

He never looks away, holding Raph's frozen gaze. "Are you?"

"Stop." He tries to pull his arm back. "Stop it."

Donnie doesn't release.

"Donnie." He brings it down. Raph breaks eyes contact, shocked to watch it slice into skin. "Donnie!" 

He drops his other sai to tear the fingers from his wrist, taking this weapon out of harms way. "What is wrong with-!"

"I knew it!" He laughs triumphantly, bloody hand still outstretched. "I knew it! You can't, can you? You act like you're so brave and strong and mean but you're not! You're a scared, walking husk of nothing-"

"Your hand-" Raph reaches out but Donnie tears it back. "Oh, you care now? Do you? I thought this was what you wanted."

There's blood dripping to the floor. Donnie wipes the hand down his chest, carelessly smearing his prints diagonally. "I bet that's why Splinter chose Leo. He saw how weak you were. How incapable you'd be. Not that you haven't ALREADY proven th-"

"What are you talking about." Anger seeps through his voice, but he's unsure if it has more to do with his words or the utter insanity of his actions. "Are you trying to tick me off?!" 

"Because it's hard?" He's smiling. Why is he smiling. "No one's falling for it. This act. This ruse. Pretending like your just a big bully when you're an unstable, walking talki-" 

"I'm not pretending anything!" Raph's hands move on their own, shoving him. Enough to get his point across, but not to unbalance him. "You're acting crazy! I don't know what's kicking around those brain cells, but you're going to kill it and quit it before you do something we'll both regret!"

"Like this?" He examines his hand. "Don't tell me you've never want to make me bleed."

"Why would I-?!"

"With that temper?" Raph grits his teeth. Donnie steps toward him. "See! That look! You want to shut me up, don't you? Same way you shut up Mikey? Are you going to hit me, Raph? Would that make you feel better?"

Raph starts to deny it, but his hands goes up as his mouth opens, and Donnie flinches. 

Donnie flinches. Away from him.

He freezes. And Donnie murmurs, "You were going to hit me."

He didn't think he was. But then again, he shoved him. He didn't mean to do that. He wasn't intending to do anything now. Would he have hit him?

"You were." Donnie repeats, face darkening. "That's always how you solve your problems, isn't it. You yell, and you hit them away. What does that make us, Raph? The problem or the punching bag?"

"You're not-" His voice falters. "I wasn't gonna hit you."

"You were." Donnie counters without hesitation. Raph's heart races. "You don't know that."

"I don't miss the obvious." He leans forward and Raph steps back. "But I have to wonder. Does it feel good? Does it feel good to smack people around? To watch Mikey's smile fall when you throw him to the ground? Or maybe the defeat in Leo's eyes when you put him in his place? Do you enjoy it?"

"That's not- I don't- they're just-!"

"Must make your tiny ego so big." He tilts his head, looking Raph up and down. "But you could still do so much worse, couldn't you?"

His fists clench. "I..."

"I bet you think about it all the time." He's smiling again. Raph hates it. Hates. It. "How angry you are. How dangerous you are. It shows. Oh ho, it shows! You're so creative with your insults. It's like your brain is wired for violence. How do you sleep at night? How do you live like that, going about your day, knowing how easy it would be to kill any one of us when our back is turned-"

His fists shake. "Cut it out."

"-wouldn't even lose sleep over it. Because you were mad. You were angry. It's not your fault we do that to you. Isn't that the rhetoric you love t-"

There's blood on his plastron. Raph can't look away. "You’re wrong-"

"-us. You could even do it with your bare hands! You're so strong. It would be a piece of cake to catch us off guard and slam our head into the wall, or floor, or the pavement!"

He puts his hands over his head, "Donnie-"

"Then you'd watch us bleed out slowly, little bits of bones littering the floor-"

He can see it. Picture it. "No!"

"Or would you rather have your hand around our throat, feeling the bone break beneath your fingers-"

"Quit it!"

"Or maybe you'd rather it be slow, soaking up every second as we choke and gasp beneath your might, begging for the sweet relief of air or death-"

"SHUT UP!"

"Why? Are you going to make me? Is it too real for you? Too familiar? It is, isn't it? I'm right and you just can't handle being WR-"

Raph's fist hits his jaw.

It happens so fast that he doesn't even feel the blow against his knuckles, fury and terror merged indistinguishably with one another as his brother hits the ground. He wants the images out of his mind, blurred along with everything in his peripheral, heavier than the breaths leaving his lips. He opens and closes his sweaty palms, trying to quell the pumping adrenaline beneath his skin.

He watches Donnie turn over to rest of his elbows, bringing a hand to his mouth to cup it. A sick pride takes hold, knowing that he shut him up and praying that he won't open it again now that he knows the consequences, but it dies when he coughs, gags, and then hacks out a spray of spit-drenched red and white.

There are three teeth in the shaking hand, laying potently in his palm.

Donnie's breathing increases, bordering hysterics as his shoulders hitch up and down. Raph moves for him. His brothers gaze shoots up, eyes glazed in fear, stopping him in his tracks. "Donnie-"

"No." He gasps, scrambling back. "Don't touch me!"

"Wait," Raph's argues, rapid. "Wait, hold up, I didn't mean-!"

"You did this." He throws the teeth on the ground, "You did!"

Raph can see the missing spots. The blurred edges return. "You wouldn't stop! You- you were being an idiot and you wouldn't-"

"Leave me alone!"

“No, Donnie-”

Donnie darts for the door. "LEO! SENSEI!"

"No, wait, I swear-!" Raph charges after him, pushing through the door as he tries to close it in his face. He looks around but Donnie's not in the main room. He frantically scans the area, listening for shouts and waiting to be caught. 

Everything is silent.

"Raph?"

He jumps, elbows slamming the door as he faces his brother. "MIKEY!"

Mikey stares at him, subdued. "What are you doing? Where's Donnie?"

"I..." Raph looks over his shoulder. He exhales. "I don't know."

"You didn't hurt him, did you?"

Raph’s head snaps toward Mikey, nerves buzzing, "Why would I hurt him."

Mikey doesn't answer. He releases the door, "Why would I hurt him?"

The youngest brother quickly puts steps between them, eyes wide. "I don't know!"

"Then why'd you ask?" He demands. "Why do you care?"

"I just don't want you to hurt him!"

"I'm not going to hurt anyone!" His heart is pounding. The accusation cuts into him, like a fresh wound against a knife. He can't remember having this conversation with anyone else, but the panic grips him. "I'm not dangerous!"

"You're not." Mikey agrees, trembling. Why is he trembling. "I know you're not! You- you don't have to be mad or an-"

"I'm not mad! I'M NOT MAD!" He stomps down the stairs. Mikey shrinks away from him. He points at him, frantic. "Stop it!"

"Raph." He croaks, small in posture and tone. No one should make Mikey look that way.

So why is Raph making him look that way?

And how! He's never, ever looked at Raph like- like he's actually a threat-

"Stop it!" His eyes are burning. The restless energy is choking him and he doesn't have any way to get it out that won't scare him. "You're not scared of me!"

"I'm just as much a ninja as you are!"

"Sure, you are." Raph's sneers as he jabs a finger into his plastron. "I've had to save your shell, how many times?"

"I never asked for your help!"

"I know!" Raph can feel a laugh punch out of him. Nothing about it contains any true joy, almost hysterical in nature. "You're so delusional, you don't even realize how badly you need it!"

"STOP IT!"

Then Mikey shoves him and Raph jumps right into a tackle, ugly fury fulling every blow as he aims to prove that he's going to start this fight and he's not going to win. He's not going to let him win and he can't let him get the upper hand because if he does then he's never going to be able sleep through the night again-

"You're not!" 

Mikey flinches and Raph hates it.

He's not! He's never been scared. Not of Raph!

He's just yells, doesn't he? He yells and shouts and whines until he gets his way!

That's how it's always been. That's- that's how it's supposed to be. 

"Why are you all acting like such-" 

He roughly grabs his arm and Mikey screams.

Not the normal, playful fear scream. Not the 'oh no, I've seriously messed up' scream. The kind of scream that one does in a horror movie when the killer has finally closed in. A desperate terror that only comes when a final breath draws near, and the only thing the body can do is cry out in a blood-curdling plea for help.

It drowns Raph as he rips his arm away, creating distance between them. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Raph! Please!"

He's crying. Raph made him cry. He didn't mean to. He didn't want to. Why is he crying what did Raph do did he hurt him is he hurt he can't be hurt he doesn't want to hurt anyone he didn't mean to he didn't mean to he didn't mea-

He reaches out. Mikey chokes on a sob and bolts.

Raph doesn't stop him. 

"Are you surprised?"

Leo's voice is calm. So, impossiblty cool like he hadn't seen their baby brother run past him, centimeters away from clipping his shoulder. Nothing about his stance says that he's mad, but his eyes are downright icy, locking him in place like the passing of a psychic command. 

"It was only a matter of time." Leo says without so much as a blink or a twitch. "He put on a brave face for as long as he could. They both did."

"I didn't hurt him." Raph hears himself say. "I barely touched him."

"Not today," Leo concents, sword in his hand. "But he hasn't exactly given you the chance. Not like Donnie did. Actually letting you in his lab. I don't know what he was thinking."

The memory clunks in, like a square block that doesn't quite fit in a rectangular hole. He remembers his sai pressing into bloody hands- the feel of his fist when it met his jaw- he can feel the pride the welled up at seeing him on the ground, like there could ever be a reason that he should have put his little brother there. He can picture his fear. Mikey's fear. Fear of him. 

"Where is he?" He has to know that they're okay. "Where'd they go?"

He looks over Leo's shoulder. He doesn't know which direction they ran in. 

He didn't get to see. He wasn't paying enough attention.

Did he ever? 

"You really think I'm going to let you near them?" He looks Raph up and down, incredulous. "They're safer where they are."

"I'm not going to hurt them." Goosebumps travel down Raph's arms. He's said that before. "I- I don't want to hurt them. Just- I-lemme talk to them, I-"

"No." Leo passing a mocking smile, lips pursed. "Don't think I will. They deserve five minutes to feel safe. It's not exactly easy living with you."

"I just want to talk to-"

"No you don't." Leo cuts it, "You never just want to talk. It's never talking with you. It's screaming and hitting and borderline verbal abuse. But just talking? No. I don't think so."

"Leo." He tried, voice shaking. "Something's wrong."

"With you? Yeah. I know." 

Then Leo turns away. And Raph feels goosebumps prick down his arm.

Panic climbs, heightening his pitch, "Where are you going?"

"To our brothers." Leo says, "To do what a brother's supposed to do."

"Wait," he begs. "Wait, I'm sorry."

He laughs, startled and sarcastic. His head shakes slowly, facing him. "Are you serious?"

"I-" 

"You think you can just apologize?" He demands, smile sharp. "Years and years of mistreatment and you think I care about your apologies?" 

"I wasn't trying to." Raph feels the heat burns. "I'd never do that on purpose! You know I wouldn't! I'd never-" 

They're on the ground. Leo's hand is on his shoulder, a blade at his throat. Their faces are inches away as he leers. They've sparred a million times, and hundreds of those were duking out an argument. He's seen anger eat at his brother before. He's had his sword to his throat for for maybe ten of those fights when Leo really lost it. He was never scared, then. 

He's scared now. 

Raph's eyes are blown wide, voice small, "Leo?" 

Leo's cold gaze pins him. "I could kill you right now. Slice your throat and be done with this crap. Whose fault would it be then, Raph? Mine or yours?"

"You're holding the weapon." Raph tries to strengthen his voice. "Not me."

"And how often are you the weapon, Raph?" 

"I..." He loses the bravo. "I'm- I'm not-"

"Your hands. Your blows. They're always you."  Leo taps his shoulder. "No matter what anyone says, you're the weapon. Always ready to fight. So smug when you win. It's never your fault. Never your problem. Turned Slash into a monster and then pushed him off a roof. Everyone's the enemy when you can't tolerate your friends. How long until you turn against us?"   

"̷͚̋S̸̡̒e̵̠̅ë̴̝m̷̠̓s̷͍̑ ̷̞̊t̴̑͜o̶̖̾ ̶͈̊m̷̭̓ẹ̵͗ ̴̺͠ĺ̷̟ȉ̵͔k̸̳̏e̷͚̎ ̵͚̂y̶̹͗o̵̹̅ŭ̵̠ ̸̡̀ḿ̶̼í̵̼g̵̘̎h̷̗͊t̴̩͝ ̴͎̎h̷̭́ā̶̮v̸̨̓e̷̯̽ ̸̜̏b̶̛̜e̶̞̔e̸̗͋n̸̞̎ ̶̤̐t̵͔͊a̸̦͆k̶̨̐i̸̡̐n̵̗͑g̸̲̓ ̴̛̯p̸̰̔r̷͍̾ȇ̸ͅc̸̡̉a̷̖͠ů̴̫t̷͚̅i̶͖͋ò̸̤n̴̡͌s̷̽ͅ.̷̼̚ ̴͎̌D̶̻̽o̷̩͝ ̴̗̎w̷̺̄e̸͓͆ ̸̱́j̶̡̕u̸̞̒s̸͕̓ẗ̴͔ ̵̻̈́n̷̼̄e̶͈̚e̷̢͠d̴̜̀ ̸̰́ț̶̓o̸͔͋ ̴͙͠g̶͔̐i̶̱͌v̴̲̓e̷̝͂ ̸͓̃ỷ̸̪o̴͌͜ů̸̲ ̷̡͂m̸̱̏õ̷̧r̴̡͝e̵̻̒ ̵̫̋ơ̴͙ḟ̷̘ ̵̣͗à̸̳ ̷͚͛p̴̡̊u̷͕̾s̵̭͌h̷̨͂ ̶̫̊n̷̡̊ḛ̵̃x̸̨̊t̵̲͗ ̷̜̋t̴̢̀i̴̲͠m̷̭͝e̶̢̎?̵̱̒"̵̾ͅ

"I wouldn't." He swears. "You know I wouldn't."

"I know you better than you know yourself." Leo pulls the sword up. "And that's the only reason that you're still here. Because I'd like to think my brother is somewhere in there" He stands, letting it scrape the floor as he walks away. "And on the day I can't see him..." He lifts it to look at Raph through the reflection of his blade. "All that's left is a threat."

"I'm not a threat." Raph sits up. His arms shake. "You can't believe that." 

"You said it yourself." Leo sheaths his sword. "No matter how hard you try, you can't control yourself. And I can't deal with this."

"You promised." He whispers. "You promised we'd figure this out. You said-"

"That's not how I remember it." 

"I've been trying! I've been trying and tryin', but I just! I just!"

"Can't?"

Leo's glare is cold with a judgement that slices deep into his heart, as if he's seeing all of Raph's flaws at once, as if he's realizing that he can't be helped. "It's like you're not even going to try. I thought you were the strong one, Raph."

"I am!"

"Sure." Leo narrows his eyes. "So strong he's giving up the battle. I can't believe you. What would Splinter say?"

"Don't you-!"

"Bet he'd be disappointed. He always was." The wound from the blade bleeds out, and Raph feels like it's corrupting every inch of him. "Some days it's like you don't even try. I hope you enjoy it out there, because I don't want you coming back. That's what you want, right? Life away from us? So go! And don't bother coming home until you get your act together."

"No." Raph whispers, grabbing at his head. "No! That's not what happened! That's not-" 

"It's exactly what happened." Leo snaps. "And then you still came home. And you're still throwing your fits. So fine. Throw your tantrums. Just do it alone."  

"You can't leave me-"

"Watch me." Leo moves to the turnstiles. Raph steps to follow him.

Throwing stars impale at his feet and he jumps back.

"Don't," Leo growls. "Don't you try me right now."

"Brother-"

"Stay here, Raph!" He commands furiously. "And think about what you did!"

Leo turns and takes off to the tracks before he can get a word in.

Sinking to the ground with the throwing stares, he stays.

He doesn't know what there is to think about. He doesn't know what he did.

Raph can't help but think that might be the problem.

Notes:

Okay, so, I’m not going to be able to go back to twice a week postings. I know, I know, I’m a liar who deserves scorn.

BUT- just know you can’t give me the death penalty for my crimes because then I can’t finish the story.

You also can’t kidnap me for torment because I don’t get good motivation when I’m stressed and the next chapter is like. Literally my favorite thing ever. I hate the one after it even more. They’re the worst.

But I still need to work on the ones after both of them and if I’m too stressed I’ll never be able to edit either for postings.

So. Yeah. Can’t touch this :p

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 3 of Feral Turtle Fun