WARNING - This story contains elements of slash.
Furious brown eyes. Hard. Edged with anger and layered in a passionate frustration built on years of struggle and regret. Raph was a pro at reading his brother by now. Reading him, defying him … hurting him. Year upon year of it, like the rings of a tree. Each layer seemed to fall between them, a wall that got thicker every year. And yet … as time passed Leo only pushed harder to bridge the gap. A gap that Raph refused to traverse. A nagging voice whispered that he was being a coward and he smothered it stubbornly, only angrier and more defiant for the traitorous thought. They stared at each other in the dark, tension coiling. Each waiting to see where the darkness would lead them this time.
'Why do we always have to do things the hard way? Why can't you just talk to me?' Leonardo demanded finally, voice giving form to that look in his eyes. Weary, frustrated. Pleading.
Damn those eyes and damn the question. Raphael clenched his fists against a sudden irrational urge to touch his brothers face … soothe away that look and all the pain it implied. But he couldn't … didn't know how to let go of the coiled resentment simmering away in his guts, didn't know how to be anything other than what he'd always been. The words burst out of him against his will, far more raw emotion surging in his voice than he'd intended to admit.
'What the hell do you want from me, Leo? You're Splinter's favourite, Don adores you and you know Mikey worships you. You've got everyone eating out of your hand except me and it's still not enough?'
Leonardo flinched as the words echoed harshly through the tunnel. 'Raph … Mike and Don … I can't … I can't think of them that way. They'll always be my little brothers, the ones I need to protect.' He took a risk, stepping forward to place a warm hand against Raphael's neck in a grip both gentle and intimate, encouraging and possessive. Raph shivered at the touch, muscles coiled so tight they hurt, because it felt good … it felt right, and it made him want more. Leo's voice was soft again, warm breath laced faintly with the familiar nutmeg scent that was distinctly his brothers, a scent that brought echoes of warmth and laughter from times long past, when two brothers had been closer than twins. Leo continued, encouraged when Raph didn't push him away immediately. He brushed a thumb along the emerald green jaw, trying and failing to keep the raw longing out of his voice. 'I know you feel it ... There's always been something more between us and I'm tired of pretending that I don't want … that I don't wish we could … ' He faltered uncertainly, aware of the blades edge he walked. 'If a relationship was ever going to work amongst us, it has be be between equals and you and I-'
Raphael felt a surge of disbelief roar to the surface and slapped his brother's hand away with a snarl. Even to his own ears his words were rough with ugliness. 'Your equal? When have I EVER been your fucking equal? I've never been good enough for anything in this family! You know what … fuck you, Leo. We both learned a long time ago that we don't always get what we want.' He finished the words with a direct, icy glare, resentment raw and ragged in his chest.
There was a brief pause as shock flickered across his brother's face, quickly replaced by a moment of painful vulnerability that sickened him. Leo was the strong one. The ninja master. Big brother … it shouldn't be so easy to hurt someone so strong with simple words. But it was and always had been. The moment dissolved as if it had never been, another layer on the wall and Raphael glared into the shadows as his brother turned away abruptly, shoulders quivering for a long painful moment before he finally looked back, eyes narrowed dangerously.
'Do you really hate me so much?' It wasn't really a question. 'We've got our whole lives ahead of us, Raph ... just the four of us in the entire world and Don's pretty sure we're going to live at least a few centuries. That's a long time to be alone, little brother.'
Raphael turned away from the raw whisper, his heart heavy and cold as cast iron in his chest. His lungs were burning, head throbbing, it was hard to breathe … there was no air in there, and he suddenly wanted to say he was sorry, that he was too fucked up to be with anyone without screwing it up … that maybe … maybe he was just scared of ruining it and having nothing left, because if it didn't work … what then? … but Leonardo turned away before the words could form and
… he couldn't breathe ...
No ... No air!
His eyes snapped open to darkness and terror. Water … everywhere. In his mouth, up his snout … he was sinking fast, suffocating … Drowning!Panic surged instant and wrenching.
Instinct clamped his mouth shut against the icy invasion, pushing the water out of his throat in a strangled snarl of panic. Precious oxygen and muddy water swirled past his tongue and he fought the urge to scream because he couldn't afford to lose any more of those silvery bubbles.
The water tasted like silt and salt, pollution and algae. The harbour, his mind registered in shock. Sinking fast away from the faint light way above him! He couldn't move! Couldn't swim! Raph thrashed in panic against the pressure binding him … Chains … the muffled clinking and hard edges digging into his muscles. He heaved, ignoring the bruises and the blood that suddenly swirled through the water, trying to drag his wrists down through the loops and felt harsh links cut into the back of his neck. He changed tack, wriggling, trying to pull his wrists through more gradually, but the loops around the top of the whole thing were too heavy, too tight. He could barely feel his fingers, his biceps throbbed with pain and the pressure of having his arms strapped tightly to his plastron made the burning in his half empty lungs even worse. The weight of it was dragging him relentlessly down into the darkness. The urge to scream in enraged terror gripped him hard but there was no air to waste on useless fear.
A shadow sank past his right shoulder, streaming its own bubble trail, struggling uselessly as the water sucked him down. He wrenched himself aside and caught a glimpse of a twisted face … the kid he'd failed to save. Feet set in concrete, the teenager didn't stand a chance. Through the murk he could hear muffled screams, raw and bloodcurdling, stoking his own terror to a fever pitch. The water … it was killing both of them passively, mercilessly. Raph rolled desperately, struggling to get some control over his descent and failing. They hit the bottom a few metres apart in a swirl of mud and grit.
Raph watched with wide eyes through tendrils of muck, jaw clamped on his own scant breath of air, as the boys terrified eyes dulled. Flailing hands lurched, faltered and then went lax. Fine brown hair floated around the slackened face, the now-vacant eyes. He raged helplessly as the water turned a young boy into a corpse, suspended in silent death.
How can this be happening? He couldn't remember … it was all a confused jumble, his lungs burning, his head pounding and fuck, it didn't really matter because he was in serious fucking trouble!
He knew his own limits - judged he could hold his breath for another few minutes if he didn't move around too much, but then what? There was no chance of escaping the chains. They were too tight, too well secured, and far too heavy. He was pinned on his shell against the muddy bottom and the surface was a long, long way up, the night sky barely a glimmer through the gloom. And the water was cold. Too cold. Already he was shivering, feeling the dull, sluggish drag of the cold.
Raphael closed his eyes, trying to fight the roaring voice that told him he was going to die down here. His heart was racing, chewing through his oxygen too fast. If he was going to survive this he would have to pull out all the stops. He opened his eyes and craned his neck, searching the heavy gloom. Nearby were some large shapes, lurking darkly against the inky water. He took a chance, dug his feet into the mud and slid awkwardly across the bottom, praying for something that could help him ...
He was dying. Slowly, painfully, fighting it hard, but drowning nevertheless. The pressure in his chest was building to a painful burning throb, his pulse thundering through his skull and every instinct told him to expel those last thin bubbles from his lungs and gasp in something. He clamped his teeth against the fatal urge, surging across the bottom, toes sinking into the slime and muck towards the car that had met its end some years earlier. The chevy was on an angle, front end ploughed into the muck, back end pointed towards the distant surface.
Faint lightning from above flickered across the hulking shape. The windscreen was a jagged maw into a pitch black interior. He hooked one leg under the edge of the wheel and used his other leg to flip himself over. It took more effort than he could afford, bubbles choked through his mouth. Panicking, he surged up the bonnet into the dark, slicing his shoulder open on the glass, barely noticing, searching frantically, desperately for some hint of air …. and broke the surface, smashing his snout against the back windshield with an agonised heave.
Explosive gasps for air filled the tiny space as his lungs heaved, coughing, sucking wildly to fill the deficit. His legs scrambled to get a decent purchase, to hold his face up to the small air pocket and found one bare seat frame to wedge his feet against. The air tasted rotten and musty, but nothing had ever been so sweet.
'Shit … 'He wheezed into the tiny space. His eyes were just barely above the water line, but there was nothing but darkness.
Was this really how it was gonna end? A paperweight on the ocean floor? He tried to control his breathing, gradually easing the panicked gasps back under control, even as he struggled to keep his snout in that tiny oasis of air. Raph didn't know how many minutes the tiny air pocket offered in oxygen … but he didn't need Don there to tell him it wasn't going to be enough. Would he float to the surface when he died? Would the chains be enough to hold him down, or would he rise up, a gruesome, bloated discovery splashed across the news? Damn it.At least … at least in the car there was a good chance he'd stay under.
Raph's eyes burned even if the tears were instantly swallowed by the silent black water. A strangled whisper stirred the rank air and emerald skin shuddered against the freezing coils of metal that he couldn't shift no matter his strength. It wasn't supposed to end like this. He was supposed to die a warriors death! To at least go down protecting one of his brothers in a clean fight. Not like this … drowned like a dog. Would they even know what happened to him? What would Leo think? That he'd run off and never come back?
No! I wouldn't fucking do that. I … goddammit!
He screamed in frustration, able only to hear the muffled roar as a dull echo through the water. Numb green toes slipped from their precarious position and cold, cold, cold swallowed him whole again. And all he could think, as he tumbled like a lead weight across the bottom of the ruined car, was that the last words he'd ever said to his brother … had been lies.
Leo … I'm sorry ...
I'm dreaming …
Leonardo found himself suddenly aware as the fog of night dreaming lifted. He was in that place … the other. A plane he often found himself when he meditated. Where all was nothing and nowhere and everywhere all at the same time. But … he wasn't meditating now … he didn't think … so how had he come to be here, and why was Raph here when his brother had never managed to touch the astral planes as far as he knew. Confused, he reached towards the familiar presence and found it. Unlike him, his brother seemed unaware of where he was and Leo's closeness, he simply floated, suspended, connected and yet somehow distant. All was dark and though the atmosphere made him uneasy, the presence of his brother was a comforting flame. Powerful, both casting out flares of golden light and gathering the shadows back into himself in a neverending cycle of bright energy and shifting complexity.
He was beautiful ...
For a moment Leo tried to understand what was happening, a sense of urgency gripped him though nowhere did he detect any danger. Then the presence that was his brother uncoiled slightly and somehow touched him. Shocked him with the sweetness of the contradiction, because this sensation was so gentle, so soft where his brother was usually so hard ... so stubborn.
'Leo …' A whisper, laced with regret and a trace of fear. It sent a shiver of longing up his spine, to soothe away the pain, the uncertainty.
The ephemeral sensation gained strength with the warm slide of a hand gliding along his plastron. Leo quivered when warm fingers found the sensitive skin at the edge of his natural armour and continued upwards, a sensual slide to cradle the line of his neck, thumb brushing his jaw line. He gripped the emerald hand tightly, pressing his face into the warmth, eyes scalding and strangely out of breath.
Raphael … brother. I miss you so much.A formal mode of thinking that hardly contained the intensity of his feelings.
Warm breath feathered his face, the slight musky scent he'd know blindfolded. Memories tugged at him on the wave of that scent ... Curled against another small, warm shell in the dark as stormwater raged through the underground, the city heavy with a bellyfull of rain and scum as the clouds attempted to scour the world clean. Tempest above and roiling chaos beneath and yet there, in the dark and quiet, beneath the blankets … the soft murmur of Raphael's voice caught in dreams, his brother's steady breath, the solid beat beat beat of his heart and the curl of another arm flung across his shoulders. The storm raged. Leo lay and listened and clung to his brother, the rock, in the tide of his fear.
But though the memory faded, the storm did not.
Around him the atmosphere had changed, an ominous aura tingled against his perception as his brothers energy twisted and swirled. He opened his mouth to demand what was going on and was cut off by the fierceness of warm lips capturing his own. He moaned as strong arms dragged him close, heat roared between them as his brother's fire engulfed him. Lighting crackled overhead as the kiss deepened. Leo grabbed the back of his brother's neck with a muffled gasp, pressing himself tightly against this surreal pleasure, satin skin and burning touches, demanding more of the drugging kiss that only seemed to feed his hunger. Thunder roared overhead as their tongues slid together, feeding greedily on each other, taking and giving as much as could be demanded as the otherworld shuddered about them, shaking them both with its intensity.
But then the rain … flooding down in a great wall of water, filling up the other world until the sheer force of it was ripping them apart, tearing him away from that warm embrace.
Leo looked up in fear at the surface way above him, heaving and surging with the lighting flashing through the waves and when he looked back … Raphael was gone, the fire snuffed out and his scream into the darkness was no more than a muffled denial, a shiver of bubbles weaving their way towards the distant light.
Still the lighting crashed and he floundered in the surging strobe depths.
Leo ... I'm sorry ...
BOOOOM!
The slam of thunder jerked him awake with sharp gasp. Leonardo sat up, breathing heavily and ran a hand over his aching eyes, surprised to find moisture there. Had he been crying in his sleep? Beside him on the table his shellcell was buzzing angrily, half drowned out by the force of the storm above. What kind of dreams had been enough to upset him so badly? Something to do with Raphael ... something bad, but it was already sifting through his memory like sand. He shook his head to clear the lingering tightness in his temples and glared at the cellphone. It was Raph of course. He was tempted to ignore the call, still angry, still frustrated by their earlier fight, but then reality seeped in.
A glance at his small alarm clock told him it was nearly 3 in the morning. Raph should be back by now - no matter how angry he was or how frustrated, he was always home by 2am. It was a non-negotiable curfew Splinter had set since they'd all turned 18 and most of the time his brother respected it. On a night like this, even Raph would usually prefer to be snoring in bed than out on the streets. Leo picked up the phone with a sense of foreboding, hoping this was just another night the hothead had chosen to break the rules and stay out late. He was down the hallway, headed for his brother's room, even as he flipped it open.
But the voice on the other end of the line wasn't his brothers.
It wasn't anyone he knew.
'What is it, Raph? You'd better not be in any trouble because I've had it with you right now.' He snapped coldly. There was a pause on the other end of the line, filled with the static of slapping rain and then a soft chuckle.
'Raph? So that's his name, huh?''
Leo froze, a chill running up his spine. 'Who is this?' He demanded softly, dangerously.
'You know, I'll be happy to tell ya, but there's one thing I wanna know first... I want you to tell me, just how long can a turtle hold its breath for?'
Leo felt his blood run cold, couldn't answer, could only turn the knob of his brother's door and stare at the empty hammock, gripping the frame of the door against a wash of dread. The dream was nagging at him ... water ... cold and smothering.
'C'mon already.' The caller drawled. 'It's a simple question.'
'You expect me to answer?' He demanded icily, his voice a razor edge. He smacked his fist against Mike's door as he passed and headed for Don's lab, feet flying.
The caller gave a soft giggle of delight that sent a tingle of brittle hatred up his spine and continued lazily.
'This book says most turtles can last at least a few hours. Which got me wonderin' … how long could one of you turtle freaks hold out for? And wouldn't it be kind of fun to find out? Maybe lay a few bets on the outcome, make a few bucks on the side.'
'Where is my brother?' Leo gritted, forcing himself not to crush the communicator in his white-knuckled grip as he shoved the lab door open. Don sat up quickly in bed, groggy but alert to the icy rage in the elder's voice. He mouthed Raph in trouble? and Leo nodded tersely. Within moments he was skidding across to his computer, hands flying across the keys. Mike stumbled in, yawning violently, ready to let rip a string of questions as to WHY exactly it was necessary to get out of bed at 3 in the morning … and quickly realised something was wrong, the protest dying before it left his lips. He shuffled across to watch Don in sleepy confusion.
Leo was pacing back and forth like a caged panther, needing to move, needing to hurtthis piece of scum that somehow had his brother's shellcell.
The caller snorted a laugh. 'Your "brother" crashed a party he weren't invited to and this time we decided to teach him a lesson. Was off his game tonight though - taking him down was easy as piss, though if it makes you feel any better, I'm not sure how I'd go against a baseball bat to the skull either. It was all like BAM! HOMERUN!' Leo closed his eyes against the imagery.
This can't be happening. Raph, what the hell have you gotten yourself into now?
'This is just a courtesy call, see? That steroid-injected freak is at the bottom of the harbour where he belongs. He and the snitch we dropped off with him. Sank like stones, both of em. For a turtle he wasn't much of a swimmer, but I guess it's a bit hard when you're all tied up like a christmas present.'
A surge of fear lodged itself in Leo's throat. How long could Raphael hold his breath? They'd timed it over a year ago but the number eluded his frantic grasp. The call from hell only got worse. 'I don't figure he got much of a breath since he was out cold when the boys tossed him over, but still, he might have a few minutes left in him. Unless he's already dead. The bubbles aren't coming up anymore, so it's anyone's guess and with this storm, we ain't hanging around to find out. Name's Ajax, an this here is a little warnin' from us Dock Gangs to you. Stay out of our business freaks!' And the phone went dead.
Leo found himself sucking in a deep breath as he tried to stave off the red haze of fury that rode with the thunderous throb of his pulse. Titanic effort parted the curtain of emotion and left him cold, calculating and calm, alert but distanced from the small voice within that trembled for his twin, his other half, the brother that both challenged, defied and completed him. Groping after a thread of awareness for the bond that somehow transcended all else he'd managed to achieve or learn. The instant of reflection snapped closed on itself even as Leo snapped the phone shut and looked across at Don, standing pale and mute in front of the workstation. 'Donnie. Where is he?'
Donatello pointed at the small blip that was Raphael's tracker, a tiny speck against a huge strip of black that edged a small gridwork patch of the island city. They all had trackers, both in their phones and smaller microchips that Don had insisted upon gluing to the underridge of each of their shells for just such an occasion.
'East side docks. The shellcell signal died just after you hungup, but Raph's personal signal is out in the water.' Don felt confused dread strike him. The chips weren't water proof, only water resistant. Why the hell hadn't he waterproofed them? They lived in a sewer! How long would the signal even last?
If anything it was the sudden stricken look of guilty fear on Don's face that brought home to Mike the severity of the situation.
He grabbed Leo's arm, eyes wide with confusion and fear. 'Wait! What happened, Leo? Where's Raph?'
Leonardo met his brother's eyes grimly, swallowing down the sick fear churning in his guts. 'I'll tell you on the way! Ikuzo! Hayaku!'
Ikuzo - Let's go!
Hayaku - Hurry!