Responses to reviews and thank yous: I wrote this because I was wondering if I could and if it would work (in response to mary sue and ashamed of it). I sat down and typed and one thing led to another and I wrote it and it worked so I posted it. As to Lisa15, thank you ever so much for your support and details on Mikey. It'll come in handy. You'll see a little bit more of Mike in this chapter. It's all I could write of his reaction before your helpful hints (and I mean to all of you who gave info on Mikey to me). I'm also thanking Raphangela for her fic "SILENCE" which ALSO gave me an inside look at Mikey's mind. To Lioness-Goddess, LenniluvsBrian, Levionne of Spirit, and whoever else, the below summary of the first two stories below is for you.

Hope I've cleared up your questions, and thanks everyone for the feedback. I love it, keep it up!

Summary of first two fics: I thought one could read this WITHOUT having to have read the other two, but it seems I was wrong by all the confusion. I'm making plenty of references to my previous stories, "Sick" and "Judgement Day." If you're too lazy to go read them, here's the lowdown:

In "Judgement Day," Raph talks about his cutting and depression and how no one can save him from himself. After a huge fight with Leo, in which he attacks him and declares that he hates him, he runs for "the water," in his words, which means he's going to drown himself. Stopped by none other than Donnie, who only followed because he thought Raph was trying to run away (not kill himself), he unknowingly talks Raph out of killing himself. Continued in "Sick," a year later, Raph notices the same signs in Don that he'd himself once displayed and talks to the lad, who blames it on chemicals altering his brain, but nothing tangible. Don tries to cut his wrists, but can't because he's too afraid (that's what the knife reference was about in chapter one). Instead, he drowns his sorrows in antidepressants Raph disapproves of, but informs his older brother that they are "safe drugs" and that he was too much of a coward to OD. Raph in turn informs him that living's the brave thing to do, and that suicide is "the coward's way out." (Plenty of references to this). Raph repays his favor to Don by being there for him and is reassured by Don's positive response.

However, his doubts, fear, and pain come rushing back when he learns he had misjudged Don's happiness and almost lost him forever... such is continued in this story.

I've never felt so bad in my entire life
But this time I did it to myself
What do you expect from me?
I did it
So what do you expect from me?
Let go of my hand
Is it time to go?
I'm not ready to turn my back on you yet
I'm not going to let you down.

Chapter Two: Forsaken

I left the broken-hearted Leonardo with his brother in his room and heard the familiar mantra I despised so much from the living room.

"Stimpy, you IDIOT!"

I closed my eyes and prepared for the worst. As I suspected, Mikey was watching Ren and Stimpy on the big screen. Again, my nightmares came flooding back to me, but it made me smile. I took a seat next to Michelangelo.

"We have to watch this?"

"It's either this or Pinky and the Brain," Mikey said to me, his eyes glued to the screen.

Sighing, I took a seat on the couch next to him. I wondered how he felt about all of this, how this impacted him.

"You know, man," he said to me. "I used to think that... that we could fight our worst enemies... Like, you know, Shredder or something. I used to think that the worst thing that ever happened to us would be some evil villain, and that we could overcome it. With difficulty, sure, but we'd do it together and..." Michelangelo exhaled a deep sigh. "At least I'd know what to do..."

I stared at the coffee table. "It sucks to sit here and feel like there's nothing we can do..." I said, choking back a desire to run for the water. "But sometimes, our worst battles are fought internally... and no one from the outside can lend a hand. I... I guess that's how Donnie felt."

Michelangelo looked at me with pleading eyes. "But Raph... why? Why did he feel like he had to go through it alone? Why did he feel like he couldn't tell us? I coulda helped him, we... we coulda understood him... Splinter's always saying we're better as a team than alone. That includes whatever's going on in Don. He could have... he could have won if he'd just let us help."

I didn't have the heart to face him. "Sometimes, there are some horrors too dark to face on our own, let alone to show someone else," I said. "I don't know what horrors he's keeping inside..."

Suddenly, Mikey's face lit up.

"That's what I was looking for!" he said, jumping to his feet and running to our collection of DVDs. I looked at him skeptically as he pulled something out and showed it to me with a goofy grin.

"Eh? Eh?" he said, awaiting my approval. It was Little Shop of Horrors. I had to laugh at the way he could so easily slip from a serious discussion into that wacky mood of his without missing a beat. Sometimes, I wish I could do that.

I waved a hand at him. "Oh what the hell," I said. "It's better than Ren and Stimpy."

She must have heard the cartoon stop, because as soon as it did, April poked her head out of the kitchen with a gleeful grin. "What, no more Ren and Stimpy?" she said. She then promptly put on a disappointed frown when Mikey looked at her. "Aw, and I was so enjoying the clamor from the TV!"

"Don't worry," said Mikey eagerly. "We're putting on Little Shop of Horrors!"

April looked interested. "Are you serious? I love that movie!" She pushed Mikey and I aside and sat comfortably between us on the couch.

Eventually, Leo emerged from Donatello's room to join us in watching the film. Splinter was now in with Don instead to look after him and see if he woke up. I still didn't know what was wrong, if he was in a coma, or what, because no one would tell me. I didn't even dare talk to Splinter. I was afraid of his words.

As the plant in the movie sang "Feed me, Seymour!" I looked to April. She was enjoying herself watching the film. I figured she knew what was wrong with Don. But she wouldn't tell me without asking me what I knew.

Which, I realized, was not very much at all. I knew Don was clinically depressed. I didn't know if it was chronic or manic. I barely knew the difference from the two. I didn't know why. He blamed it on the chemicals, but it was more than that. You don't try to kill yourself over nothing. I didn't know anything beyond the facts that he'd never cut his arms because he couldn't stand it, and that he loved his pills. God damn medication. I told him he needed a prescription, but he only replied that he'd prescribed them himself. He thought he could do that.

All at once, I wondered how he'd been able to get the pills. No pharmacy would sell without a signed prescription.

My heart froze as I remembered seeing that shady looking friend Don talked to a lot above ground. What had he called him? Danny. Danny and Donnie. What a pair.

Instantly, I was on my feet and grabbed a trench coat.

"Where you going?" Mikey asked, tossing some popcorn in his mouth.

"Out," I replied as I left.

It didn't take me long. I found him lurking down an alley a few streets over from the warehouse.

"Hey, you Danny?" I sneered, grabbing the guy by his black overcoat. He looked at me as if I were insane.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm Danny, what do you want?"

"What do you got that'll make me feel... happier?" I asked, slowly. Danny grinned.

"A new customer," he said as I put him down. "I love that."

"I'm sure you do," I said.

"Hey, uh, you know Donnie?" Danny asked, scrutinizing me with rodent-like eyes. "I mean, yeh sorta look like 'im and all."

"I don't like to be asked questions."

"I hear yeh, neither do I," said Danny, nodding in understanding as he fumbled with a briefcase. "That's what makes me get on so well with my clients."

"Uh huh," I said, not really caring. "What would you give a guy who's really depressed and need a lift."

"You want a high, I got your ecstacy, heroin, your general amphetamines and happy drugs..." he said, rifling through his case.

"This Donnie you mentioned," I said. "What does he normally get?"

Danny looked up at me as realization dawned on him. He nodded with a grin, but said nothing. "Right, right, you want the meds, I gotchya..." he said, turning back to his case and lifting up one level of illegal drugs to reveal the next. He handed me a pill bottle that almost looked legitimate enough to be on pharmacy store shelves. He leaned in close to me.

"This stuff," he said. "Makes you feel like the world's sunshine and roses, even if it ain't."

"Everything's fucking hilarious with this, eh?" I said, dryly.

"Yeah, yeah," said Danny with a vigorous nod.

"Legal?" I questioned, with a raise of the eyebrow.

"Not exactly," said Danny with a devilish grin. "Only in Mexico and a few other South American countries. This was made in Calcutta with all sorts a great stuff, man. It's like those antidepressants and all that other junk all together. It's fucking amazing..."

"Uh huh..." I said, looking at the bottle more closely and realizing that it looked a lot like the bottle in Don's room.

When I looked up again, Danny was holding out his hand expectantly.

"Dude, pay up," he said. I frowned at him.

"I don't like paying for things if I don't know if they work," I said coldly. He shrugged.

"Then take a hit right now, I'm telling yeh!" Danny said. "Just gimme two hundred bucks."

"Two hundred bucks for one bottle of shit pills!" I screamed, outraged. "That's ridiculous."

Danny nodded, submissively, noting my big size, no doubt. "All right, all right, since yeh seem to know Don, I'll make the same deal with you as I did with him, all right? Fifty bucks."

I studied him for a moment, then gave him a twenty. He was too busy watching me to check, and it was too dark for him to see it anyway.

"Listen, man, I gotta jet. If you wanna find me again, ask Don," said Danny, watching me warily as if I would kill him at any moment. And I might have.

"Right," I grumbled, and went on my own way.

I returned to the sewers in utter despair. Don had taken these? Illegal, unsafe, unhealthy drugs? Our Donatello, our very own ne'er-do-bad Donatello? Nah, it couldn't be...

I looked at the pills in my hand and opened it, popping one onto my palm. It was a normal-enough looking capsule, red and yellow, almost like those minor pain relievers. Still, I couldn't believe Don would put this in his system. What set it off this time? What the hell happened to make him...?

The movie was still going when I entered. Ignoring Leo, Mikey and April, I turned down the hall and made my way absentmindedly to Don's room to ask him what the hell he was thinking. It was only when I opened the door that I remembered– he was unconscious, half-dead, and Splinter was in there with him. He occupied the same chair Leo had been in, and thus his back was to me.

I froze, but I knew the rat had sensed me.

"What troubles you, Raphael?" It may have been my imagination, but I swear there was just a hint of irritation in his voice. I looked at the bottle, than up at the back of Splinter's furry head.

"Uh... I found..." I hesitated. "I found the guy Don got his pills from. Some druggie scum that lurks in alleys with his briefcase of narcotics."

"I do not believe it..." Splinter whispered. He turned to me, but his eyes were clouded and undecipherable. "Why did you not inform me of this danger sooner?"

"There was no danger!" I cried in my defense. "I swear, I thought he was fine after I talked to him."

"Most often, these things cannot be healed with a simple conversation."

Bitterly, I thought of how happy and relieved Don actually seemed after our talk and wondered what could have gone and made him do this. Worst of all, unlike last time, I hadn't noticed the signs at all.

"Sometimes they can be," I replied stubbornly, remembering Don's heart-felt words to me in the sewers on my own death-day.

"Bandages merely cover wounds, but they must be removed," said Splinter, eyeing Don worriedly.

I looked down at my wrists and realized he was right. "You gotta point there."

We were quiet a moment.

"Was this your doing?" Splinter asked at last, doing well at keeping emotion from his voice. It was as though he'd just tripped me with his walking stick.

"What?" I asked, unable to keep the offense from my voice. He looked at me, almost accusingly.

"Was this your doing?" he repeated calmly. I looked at him in disbelief. What could I say to him?

"I..."

"Go, Raphael," he said at last with a resigned sigh. He waved at me, dismissing me from his thoughts. "Go join your brothers watching the film."

I left Don's room feeling like I'd just been rightfully scolded, with my head hanging low. Was this my fault? Is that really what Splinter thought?

Don's as good as dead, I thought to myself. He let me down. The bastard finally let me down. And he said he'd never let me down.

We had a deal. At least in my head, we did. I wouldn't do anything to myself, as long as Don was OK. As long as he didn't do anything stupid, neither would I. I thought it was the perfect safety net. Don broke that deal.

So what was left for me?

I paused before rejoining my brothers in the living room. I looked towards the door and the old longing returned full force. It was as strong as it had been the day I attacked Leo. But there was a new factor in here... What would they think?

How would they be able to deal with one brother dead and another dying? Would they think me a coward? Would they think I was weak?

Suicide's the coward's way out...

Was I a coward?

But then, I thought, it wouldn't matter. I'd be dead. Who cares what happens after that? I wouldn't have to do this anymore, worrying about them, never talking, always hiding. I wouldn't feel so lonely. I wouldn't let them down. I wouldn't hurt them anymore.

I looked at my armbands. No one had even mentioned that I was wearing them again. I was furious. Tearing them off, I threw them on the couch on my way out. I think I startled Mikey, but I didn't care.

I stormed out of the lair and into the rain-filled sewers, searching for something, anything, the source of the swirling death trap I wanted to step into.

I came to the pipe's edge and looked down into the churning waters below, as wild as the ocean. I was almost being pulled into it already by the torrents of water rushing down over the pipe's edge, creating the hugest waterfall I'd ever seen. I looked up at the crisscross of ladders, catwalks and pipelines that seemed to go up into oblivion. I then looked down, into the depths of Hell itself.

I closed my eyes and leaned forward...