** Author's Note**

And here it is, by popular demand: the sequel to Forget Me Never.

Dedicated to:

Lige is like a bicycle

Moonrisk

AMMO121

Lorelee13

XxScarletPhantomxX

AnnieHdz3

and many more people. So, Enjoy!

**Author's Note**

Come What May

Prologue

Raphael Hamato had many problems, and he knew it. He wasn't as graceful as his oldest brother and mate, Leonardo. He'd be lucky if he could walk into a room without bumping into anything. Neither was he quiet, or focused, or in-tune with his inner ninja bullshit. He couldn't understand the need for quiet unless there was nothing to do in the lair, but he supposes growing up with a bunch of brothers, silent moments were few and far in between; it just didn't seem natural. He also couldn't understand the need for absolute focus. If he did focus on one particular thing, like how Master Splinter keeps telling him to do (and how Leo keeps nagging at him to do,) he'd miss certain details that could make or break a fight, miss an expression, or miss something that would be advantageous in whatever situation he found himself in. He also knew how important being a ninja was, given him being a mutant turtle, but unless they were fighting other ninjas, or sneaking into someplace, he didn't feel like they needed it. Just knowing how to fight and bust some heads was good enough. Survive, that's what they were trained to do. And knowing how to street fight- to him- was the only way to survive the streets of New York.

He wasn't as fast or as flexible, as his youngest brother, Michelangelo. Sure, for a long distance, he had the endurance to keep him going, but how many times does that help you in the winding alleys of the Bronx? Almost never. He has the most scars, too, since his agility and flexibility skills are no match for the bouncing ball of energy. Yeah, he knows his body's limits in movement; he just learns how to take the pain. His brother also had the ability to keep smiling, a talent that Raph envied at worst, was annoyed at, at best. It made his head hurt to try and understand the baby of the family, so he stopped trying and just learned to roll with it… most days.

And there was no way in Hell he was anywhere near as intelligent as his genius brother, Donatello. Just having his pacifist brother try to explain how to put the toaster together confused him to no end! His brother's patience, too, was unrivalled, even from their oldest brother and leader, who practically boasted about his patience. Don was humble to a fault, as well. He'd stay up for days on end, practically living off of coffee just to finish a project to entertain his family, or keep them safe, and then just say it was nothing! And strangely enough, Raph loved his company, even more so than his mate's. His brother's presence was, in itself, calming and alluring. More often than not, Raph would purposefully break his baby- his motorbike- just to spend time with his brainy sibling. And surprisingly, this brother understands his relationship better than him and his own mate!

And he knows his anger would get himself killed one day. He just didn't know how to keep it in check. It frustrates him to no end, making his anger even more volatile every day. To the point of he's scared of it, but he would never tell his brothers that. He's afraid of whenever he lets his wrath take over, and then after he wrestles it back under control, and he would find his family dead. Murdered by his own hands. He prays that day would never come, but it is the one fear that lingers in the back of his mind, and it feeds his anger even more.

And his problems weren't even that big of a deal. Really, since he was little, he only felt anger, happiness, and love, or at least, he thinks it's love. It's not as gripping as the stories or movies say, but he guesses that they were just exaggerating it for better profit. And he honestly didn't question the love, until later on in his years, when Donatello broke his arms to save their baby brother. After setting the oddly angled limbs- he swallows down a bit of bile; his bro's arms should never look like this- he joins in on the berating of his brother, who is vehemently protesting, and making some good points. But, regardless…

"Still, Don, dere coulda been anutha way! I thought dat ting ate ya! We all did!" and Raphael would never say it, not in a million years, but losing the purple banded turtle-his friend, his confident, his bro- would surely kill him worse than losing any of the others, even Master Splinter. Chocolate eyes roll at him. "But I'm fine! We're all safe! I just can't do anything with my arms for six weeks." His golden eyes narrow at his olive-skinned brother. Why is his brother being so difficult? While Donatello was the one with the least scars, it was only because he didn't like to fight, and as such, whenever he did receive an injury, Raphael and his brother felt it was time to repay for all the gentle and kindness Don would give them on a daily basis. But his brother is rejecting the attention! It's pissing Raphael off! And strangely… turning him on. Then again, when was the last time his passive sibling ever got angry?

"Yeah? An' wat don' ya do wit' yer hands, eh, Don?" Raph knows his rebuttal is gold! Donatello did everything with his hands! There was no way his brother could argue himself out of this corner! A determined frown etches itself on olive lips, his gentle brother's chest slightly puffed out, barely noticeable against the slings that hold his broken arms. "I can do many things. I can type, make coffee, even fix the water heater." Raphael's eyes widen. "I can do every daily need as well." Raphael looks at his brother in disbelief, an eye ridge raised. He vaguely notices that Leo and Mikey are staring at their brother with the exact same expression.

"Oh really? How?" the purple-banded turtle smirks. Raph forces his lust down. Since when did his little brother become so sexy? Besides, he's with Leo; he shouldn't be thinking about his brother like this! "Mikey's not the only one that's flexible. Why do you think I take care of my feet just as well as my hands?" Raphael's lips part in shock, his mind going into overdrive. He inhales slowly, actually being able to catch a whiff of Donatello's personal scent. His eyes light up; his libido practically roars at him to take the broken turtle! The spell is only slightly broken when his youngest brother asks a seriously embarrassing question. "Even masturbate?" Raphael fights back the inappropriate thought of his brother getting his rocks off using only his feet…

"Mikey!" "Michelangelo! That's not the question to-"

"Actually, yes." Raphael stops glaring at the orange banded turtle and stares at Donatello heatedly. The pain in his lower carapace is almost unbearable, and all he can see is himself bending his passive brother over his working desk, or the couch, or his bike… yeah… his bike… he swallows a churr from the thought. "Really?" He snaps out of the fantasy to see his potential mate's attention all on the blue-banded turtle, whose eyes are suddenly bright with lust. "Er, well, yes." Not happy that his mate is getting attention from that other alpha, he growls dangerously in his throat, telling his competition to back off. The silver-eyed turtle stares at him, his teeth glinting. Raph's ready to rip Leaf-green's throat out.

"Um, guys? Can you all back off? You stink." Snapping out of… whatever the Hell he was in, Raph mumbles an apology. Did he really just think about killing Leo in cold blood? And why did he refer to him as his skin color in his head? Shaking his head, he decides to head for the shower. A cold one. He needs to gather his thoughts and figure this out.

The shower spout blasts out water, which temperature is so cold, it's almost unbearable. Shivering, he forces his heated body to sit under it. Okay, let's gatha intel. Don smelled good. Dat's a… wat did he call it… feramoan? Feremone? Anyway, it affected all o' us, ev'n Leo. We wanted ta jump Donnie. So… sexual…attraktshun's involved. An' I felt… more of an animal dan eva. So… instinct. Feremone…attraktshun… animal instinct… matin'? Somet'ing ta do wit' mates… Wait…

Raphael blinks under the water. That's it. Mating season for them has finally come. He groans. No wonder his boner hasn't lessened a bit. Letting himself drop down, he grasps his large length, automatically fantasicing it's Donatello who's getting him off. Those gentle hands wrapped around him, starting a slow, almost lazy rhythm. His eyes drift shut, a moan escaping his lips. Steadily, the pace grows in speed and Donatello has to use both hands to keep up with the passionate turtle. Raph's hips buck erratically, a churr echoing through the bathroom. It's only when dream Donatello licks the tip of his engorged cock does he let go; his orgasm's wild, sporratic, and easily the best orgasm he has ever had in his entire life. That's including the sex with Leo. He slowly slides down the wall, his eyes slowly opening, watching the evidence of his activity be swept down the drain. "Donnie…"

It's going to be a long season.