Taking a tumble from the tropical waves onto the cool sand was not how Leonardo envisioned arriving. He blinked a drop of sweat from his eye and noted with a fair amount of irritation that he was already drenched as his body tried to cope with the thick air. Burning humidity left his lungs starved for oxygen, and days of rationing his trail mix and dried fruit and his last gallon of water cultivated a foreign weakness in his limbs. The sun mercilessly beat down on his tender skin, and he knew that if he couldn't get out of its reach soon, he'd be a prime ingredient for fresh turtle soup.

His limbs seized and groaned as they tried to respond to the demands he placed on them. He panted, willing his arms to pull him just an inch more into the shade of the trees. Nausea wormed its way onto his list of problems and he grunted as he heaved himself into rough tree bark. He shut his eyes against the sickness, against the oppressive heat and went to somewhere dark and cold.

The pungent scent of exhaust and concrete clogged his airway, and the smoke from the fire a few blocks over set his lungs ablaze like so much kindling. Stars hidden by bright neon, faintly seen near the rooftop's edge, tickled his skin with their warmth. A loose bit of gravel bounced passed his foot under the momentum of the creeping wind. He stood solidly against the frigid breeze and glanced over his shoulder.

His two youngest siblings were at it again, Mikey's antics driving Raph into a near-murderous state. Raphael had Michelangelo pinned against the ground and was trying to wring an apology out of him. Blinded by his rage, he failed to notice Mike's foot slip behind his knee. As he collapsed swearing, Michelangelo reversed their positions, holding Raph fast in a secure joint-lock. Donatello was doubled over in laughter, unfazed by the threats spewing out of Raph's mouth for his pacifism. Leo smiled, allowing them to relish the night's pleasantries, knowing that he would steal them away too soon.

He cleared his throat. They heaved a collective sigh and fell into a loose formation, Mikey keeping Donatello between himself and his former captive. Pride swelled in Leonardo's chest, catching him off guard. How they stood there, so attentive, so alert. There was Raph, safe behind his ferocity, ready to take on the world. And Mikey, so loving, so happy, and always teaching him to let go. Then Don, the stalwart genius, the listening ear. All of them had grown into fine allies and finer brothers. Why, why did he have to tear it apart?

"Um…" The slight stammer caught their attention. Leo was never at a loss for words...or commands. He began again. "Look, I have something to tell you guys."

Coming down from his perch on the roof's ledge, he began pacing, searching for the right words. A slight movement caught his eye. Donatello had cocked his head, reading his movements and troubled by the gravity he sensed on his older brother's shoulders. He knelt, as only they did for Splinter, waiting.

"What is it you have to share, nii-san?"

Hearing the sincerity in the question, Michelangelo and Raphael also knelt in respect. All three faced him, thinking themselves ready to take on the challenge their big brother would give. Leonardo swallowed hard against the sob in his throat.

"I'm...I'm leaving."

Raph and Don jolted, shocked, but Mikey merely angled his head as if trying to figure out what the big deal was. "So where are we going?"

Leo let out a shaky breath. "It's...I'm...you can't come this time, ototo."

He grimaced in the falling dusk, tears stripping away the grime coating his face. Words, phrases, pleas bombarded him, nearly brought him to his knees.

Raphael raced back to the lair, his fury outstripping his brothers' speed, his ingrained knowledge of each dark alley leading him back home. The edges of his vision were awash in crimson, and for once, he didn't think it was the cloth around his eyes. He had meant to train off the edge, work himself to the point of exhaustion before attempting discussion. He knew better than to approach his master in a blind rage. But fate had placed his sensei on the meditation mats in the dojo, only just far enough away to avoid shrapnel from the sliding paper doorway when it imploded.

"Master Splinter, what is goin' on? Why Leo?"

"It is not for you to understand Rapha -"

Something flew across the room and shattered on its impact with the wall. "All I undastand is that this...this...family...is bein' tore up in the worst sorta way! Of all tha-"

"Raphael!" The edge in the word left it as a lingering command that could not be questioned. "Kneel."

Raphael braced himself for the blow. He was painfully familiar with the discipline that followed questioning the orders of his master. The wooden walking stick whistled through the air, catching him under the chin and lifting his face to his sensei's.

"It is not my place to explain myself to you. Remember that."

"Hai, Sensei," he ground out through a sore jaw, stiffening as Splinter moved.

"Now, Leonardo's departure will change our family; you are not incorrect. However, I expect all of you to rise to the challenge and excel, learning to draw from each other's strength and cover each other's weakness no matter the distance." Splinter carefully knelt in front of his pupil, meeting his eyes and for the first time, letting the father's care smother the master's anger. "My son."

"Hai, Sensei."

"Do you not trust my judgment?"

Raphael cocked his head, considering his answer and the fact that the worn cane was being absently twirled in Splinter's hands. Noticing his gaze, Splinter cast the walking stick out of arm's reach, and waited.

"It's not that, Sensei, it's just…"

Splinter's heart skipped off-beat for just a fraction of a second as Raph's resolve wavered and he irritably ran a hand across moist eyes.

"We need Leo, Father." He swallowed stiffly and whispered so faintly that Splinter wasn't even sure he'd spoken, "I need 'im."

Leonardo silently slid up the stairway, holding his breath to repress the agony birthed of Raphael's admission. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but he had had to pass the dojo to get to his room, and well….curiosity killed the chunin, he supposed. Setting his thoughts aside, he methodically packed his provisions and tools in satchel lent to him by Donatello. He would very obviously take his swords. The small obsidian dirk he used to sharpen them and his sleeping bag were also a given. Although it pained him, he would leave behind his meditation mat and candles. His new instructor would probably have ones he could use anyway. He tossed a couple of books into the bag, as well as six ink pens, two pencils, and a thick stack of paper. He'd sent Michelangelo scurrying to the kitchen for non-perishable food items and was relieved and somewhat astounded to find that he had actually listened to him. Seven bags of trail mix, dried fruit, and roasted nuts surrounded about three days' supply of water. He couldn't risk taking much more. He needed to be able to move at a moment's notice and traveling lightly would be much more accommodating than toting a large suitcase. He skimmed over his mental checklist once more then set everything off to one side.

Some time later, when he'd extinguished his candles and removed his gear, when he'd had to stop moving and been unable to check his thoughts, when it was dark and still, Raphael stood at his door with his arms folded over his chest, watching him. His brother's desperate attempt to change Splinter's mind had come to naught, and the very next day he would take his leave.

"Nii-san?"

"Hai, ototo?"

Leonardo caught a small sigh in the dim light. Whispered footfalls, much too light to be heard by any other, trod toward him. Piercing amber eyes met his own, for once cautious, unsure. A hand shot out of the shadow and pulled him into a gruff hug.

"Good luck."

"Thank you."

He ground his jaw as he replayed the sincere well-wish, taking in the faint Japanese lilt that wove around the harsher Brooklyn cadence when he whispered and the strong hand at his neck that trembled with the strain of his anguish; he knew that even now, Raph was awakening to only three family members. He sighed, feeling more than ever like a traitor to his best comrade.

Raphael had never taken lightly the fact that he had been looked over when Splinter chose his lieutenant. Every day of his life, he was reminded, sometimes less than subtly, that Leonardo held authority over his brothers, second only to Splinter. Not that he let his eldest brother go unchallenged. His ferocity earned him the respect of all of his siblings, and as a small consolation price, Raphael had unofficially become Leo's second-in-command. The topic had been brought before Splinter many times as he prepared for his trip. In the end, Splinter's edict had been that Raphael would not assume guardianship of the clan, and no amount of weight Leo tried to throw around would change his mind. Leonardo winced as he thought of Raphael having to endure that denial again, and for a moment, he was glad he left earlier than planned.

Raphael bent his head, momentarily allowing his shame to crush him, then slowly bowed to Splinter with a "Hai, Sensei" before leaving the dojo without a word to either of his siblings.

Not again.

"My sons, I have gathered you here to pass along a wish from Leonardo and a command from myself." Splinter shifted his weight to his good leg and waited as his students settled into comfortable seizas.

"As you know, Leonardo will be away for training in the coming months, learning how to take advantage of all aspects of a living environment. Though I am able to guide you in battle, I fear that doing so would place a rift between you three and myself, something that I cannot have when I need your full trust as I train you. Ergo, after much deliberation, Leonardo wished for you, Raphael, to step into his role as my lieutenant."

Raphael felt the roaring in his ears. What? What had he just said? He felt Mikey's face split into a huge grin, and Don radiated with the pride of an older sibling watching his younger one mature.

"However," the sharp word smothered any celebratory wisps hovering over the lair and replaced them with a brooding anxiety. "I have not approved this gesture. I apologize to you, my son. This is not a reflection on your skills or abilities. Physically, you may even be more capable than Leonardo to lead this team."

"Why does that compliment come out like-" Raphael clamped down hard on his retort as Splinter's eyes flicked to him briefly.

"Donatello."

Donatello squirmed under the darts shooting at him from the corner of Raphael's eyes. "Hai, Sensei?"

"Time and again, you have undertaken many missions from a more defensive standard than anyone else in this clan. You can piece together seemingly unrelated events and produce an enemy's plan for attack as well as a counter to it. You are comfortable in your abilities and learn methodically, organizing your steps so that no error can be made."

Donatello's face flushed red under the praise.

"You are patient, compassionate, and able to consider the many facets of an issue before deciding how or if to act. Though you tend to stay in the background, preferring to go unnoticed and emerge when needed, I call you now to my side as my second-in-command."

Raphael swore the world shattered in that moment, fragments cascading into nothingness on the wind of a murmured acknowledgment. Donatello's surprised gaze fixed on him.

I'm sorry, it said. I'm so sorry.

Raphael wanted to vomit up all the disappointment and fury and fear and dejection. There wasn't much light left in their world, especially not with their Fearless Leader gone, and he'd be damned if he let any more of it fade. They needed an offense take on life. Their enemies would not hesitate to capitalize on their - he wanted to spit the word - weakness, and waiting for it to happen could only cost them not protect them. Not that Donnie would be a bad leader or anything, but defensive maneuvering only worked for so long before you got yourself and others cornered. And he'd been in enough fights to know that if you couldn't go out swinging, you would go down permanently.

A scream broke into his thoughts, and he paused to check his surroundings, his inner Leonardo annoying loud as it reminded him never to let his emotions compromise his attention. He'd let his feet take him out of the lair and settle into a familiar pace that kept most of the thoughts at bay. It seemed that at some point, he'd found his way up to street level. He carefully skirted around gargoyles and security cameras as he leapt onto the roof to get a better sight of his quarry. The scream was neither masculine nor feminine just terrified - and unnervingly young - and came from somewhere below and behind him. He was close enough to hear raised voices, this one shouting in anger, that one shouting in fright. He moved into a crouch and slunk to the building's edge so that he could peer over the side and into the alley below. The sound of glass shattering as it hit drywall reached him, and moments later, he saw two figures circling each other in a twisted dance of abuse.

They were in the apartment complex next to the building he had camped out on, their shadows grotesquely enlarged on the alley wall. The one who was doing most of the hollering was a short, squat woman with dark hair and eyes. Her hair was matted as though she hadn't washed it in days, and her shirt was holey and moth-eaten. She looked to be in her late twenties, maybe, and she was so cross-eyed drunk that Raph could smell the alcohol wafting into the alley. She paused to look at where the glass she had thrown at the wall had landed, dismay momentarily flickering over her features before she took a deep swig from a half-empty bottle of bourbon. That need satisfied, her hand lurched out with a speed that belied her size and connected with something fleshy.

A child - no older than eight - stumbled across his view as he apologized profusely for whatever crime he had apparently committed. Raphael growled as he readied a sai in his hand. He ran through several calculations in his head, unsure which would be his next move. If he timed it exactly right, he could take care of the woman before she got to the kid again.

And then what? Let him watch his mother die by a weird knife that flew through the window of its own accord?

The Leo-voice was back and insisting on making this more difficult than it should have been.

He won't see.

So he'll find the body instead?

I can take 'er down without killin' 'er.

What happens when she wakes up and you aren't here to save him from the next beating?

That one stopped him. Knocking the mother or guardian or whatever she was out of the picture might buy the kid a couple of hours, maybe the rest of the night, but come tomorrow, she'd probably be back to smacking him around, sober or not.

Foster care. If I take 'er out, he'll be put in foster care, and someone who actually likes kids can take him in.

Do you want to know the odds that that will actually happen?

….no.

And there's no guarantee he'd be put with anyone better. Suppose his new parent is even worse? What would you have accomplished then?

Raphael and the Leo-voice argued for several more minutes until a sudden movement caught both their attention.

Oh.

Crap.

She'd lazily tossed a handful of pills down her throat, chasing them with the last of the bourbon, then resumed the hunt. Calling for him in a deceptively sweet tone, she worked over the room before coming to his hiding spot in the hall closet. Even from his vantage point, Raph could see the fear racking through the child's body as his mother hefted him under her arm like a football and then backhanded him for the shaking. Muted sobs rang through the window. She set her prey in the middle of the floor, belittling and chastising him with words. If he flinched, a hand or a foot would be used to make her point.

I gotta stop this. She'll kill 'im!

You might give him a few hours reprieve! That's it! It won't be enough! I know this is hard, but it's not your fight!

SHUT. UP. If he can go to bed and for just once not hafta wonder if he's brave enough to use the knife he keeps under his pillow, it will be enough.

Just as Raphael steadied his aim and moved to throw, a third figure stepped quickly into view. The man was large, bulky, and important-looking, complete with a leather briefcase and red tie. Having very obviously just returned home from his job, the rage that contorted his features mirrored Raph's own. He caught her arm and roughly spun her away from the boy. With an impressive display of strength, he virtually threw the woman out the door and knelt to check his son. The Leo-Voice was telling him to relax in the happy ending, but his own paranoia had him hanging around for another hour, just to make sure. The father had tenderly examined the boy, noted the scrapes and bruises he'd accrued, and administered basic first aid. The cops had finally been called and only at their arrival did Raph feel comfortable enough to make his departure.

Look, Leo, wherever ya are, me and you's gotta talk.

He kept up a monologue as he sprinted over the musty warehouse rooftops and headed toward the docks. That manhole was about as far from the lair as you could get on the east side, and he was going to need a lot of time to shake the irascible attitude from his system.

I ain't mad at you or Splinter or Donnie fer the way things turned out. Sensei just wants us ta take a break and isolate from the resta tha world since we ain't got you here ta keep us alive in combat. Don's pretty good at the defense thing, so I guess Sensei made the only choice he saw.

Scattering loose debris under his feet, he nimbly dropped into the alley, acutely aware of the stinging salt water billowing into his eyes. The moon was setting on the horizon, beckoning the morning come with the tide. One more breath of surface air, and he was underground, walking home for once.

And that's all well an' good, but you and me's been lookin' our fer this city too long ta assume that crime will take a break right along with us. I know ya don't get this, but nights like tanight are why you leaving was a bad idea. Someone's gotta keep this city from going to hell, and I'd feel a heckuva lot better if I wasn't flyin' solo on this one.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, I will probably expand this chapter eventually, but I really wanted to offer you guys something for the wait. I do apologize for the rather abrupt 'ending' to this chapter. Please, I would enjoy feedback on flow, believability, and any grammar or spelling mistakes you see.