Wow! All I can say is I was surprised and super pleased with the response my first chapter got. A HUGE thank you to everyone who followed, favorite, and especially reviewed. You guys have no idea how excited I got with each and every one! And look…it made me write the next chapter that much faster!

Hope you all continue to enjoy!

Disclaimer: Still not mine…

Raphael was feeling restless.

Lowering the 'Motorcycle' magazine he had been aimlessly perusing he reached over and flipped off the stereo. After hours of constant noise, the sudden silence was like a punch to the gut, leaving a slight ringing in his ears.

'There, I turned the music down, Leo' he thought smugly, remembering the look on his older brother's face right before he had slammed the door. He probably should have felt bad about goading Leo into anger, but he didn't. In his mind, his brother needed someone to give him a hard time. He was too uptight and serious, and his ever present calm was freaking annoying as hell. Raph took perverse pleasure in poking holes in that calm whenever he had the chance.

Besides, he owed Leo for the long winded lecture he'd had to endure the previous night. All he'd done was slip out to see a movie with Casey. It wasn't his fault that they had come across a couple of Purple Dragon's robbing a convenient store on their way home. What did Leo expect? That he just stand by and let it happen? And why did his brother always have to assume that he went out looking for trouble? So what if the convenient store had been half-way across town from the movie theatre? So he and Casey had decided to take the long way home…big deal.

With a small growl, Raph sat up in his hammock and swung his legs down to the floor. He was going crazy cooped up here in the lair. It had been four days since they had last been out on patrol. Splinter had gotten sick, and mother hen Leo had refused to leave the lair in case their master might need him. And if Leo wasn't going out, neither were his brothers. For the millionth time, Raphael cursed his brother's stupid overprotective streak.

The good news was that Splinter seemed better, which hopefully meant Leo would let them resume their nightly patrol. If not, Raph might just have to risk his brother's wrath and sneak out to hang with Casey again. He would be careful to avoid trouble this time, though. He might have a rebellious streak when it came to orders he felt were ridiculous, but he tried not to take things too far. His job was to give Fearless a hard time, not make his older brother's job impossible. Leo might be overprotective, overbearing, and an annoying perfectionist, but despite all that, he wasn't a half bad leader.

Not that Raph would ever admit that to him.

He left his room and moved down the hall, noting Leo's open door and empty bed as he passed by. A tantalizing aroma drifted up from the kitchen, and his stomach rumbled. Ignoring the stairs, he casually leapt over the banister and dropped down into the main room, bending his knees to absorb the shock of the fall.

"Nice one, bro. But I'm afraid it lacked style. I mean, you could have easily gotten a flip in before the landing. I'm afraid I can only give you a five…maybe even a three for that performance."

Raph straightened and turned slowly to glare at his youngest brother. Mikey was standing in the kitchen grinning at him, a plate of grilled cheese sandwiches in one hand and a pot of tomato soup bubbling away on the stove behind him.

"Better watch your soup, Mikey," he growled. "Leo aint here to help you clean up the mess, and I sure as hell aint doing it."

Mikey waved a dismissive hand through the air, sliding the plate of sandwiches onto the table and turning back to the stove for the soup. "Donnie, come and get it," he hollered over his shoulder.

Raph yanked a chair out and sat down at the table, grabbing a sandwich from the plate and unceremoniously taking a large bite. The cheese instantly burned his tongue and the roof of his mouth, and he made a face, opening his mouth and quickly sucking in air in an attempt to cool the hot lump of food. He glanced over at the stove to make sure his little brother hadn't noticed, but thankfully Mikey still had his back turned.

"You should always test the temperature of your food before taking a bite," a softly amused voice spoke from his right. He glanced over as Donnie joined him at the table, a sheaf of notes and a pencil held in one hand. "There was a man who gave himself severe 1st degree burns to his tongue and pallet after taking a bite of hot soufflé. I saw the pictures, and believe me when I say; it was not a pretty sight. Poor man couldn't eat properly for over a week."

Raph swallowed the still slightly overwarm bite of sandwich and stared at his brother, shaking his head slightly. "What the shell is soufflé?" he asked.

"It's like a pudding," Donnie answered succinctly, grabbing a sandwich and sinking down into his own chair, his notes placed neatly on the table in front of him.

It was a measure of how bored he was that Raph asked the next question. "What are you working on Donnie?"

Donnie looked up at him and blinked, glancing down at his notes and then back up at Raph. He frowned, his brow wrinkling in thought, and Raph knew that his genius brother was trying to figure out a way to explain whatever project he was currently working on in simple enough terms that Raph might have even the slightest chance of figuring out what he was talking about. Apparently deciding it was a lost cause, he finally shook his head and answered simply, "It's complicated."

Raph accepted the answer with a shrug, taking another, more cautious, bite from his sandwich. There had been a time not too long ago that Donnie would have launched into a detailed explanation full of complicated equations and impossibly large words, but after all these years his brother seemed to have finally realized that the glazed look in his audience's eyes meant he had lost them from the start. He had tried for a while to "dumb down" (Mikey's term) his explanations, but unfortunately he just wasn't very good at it. Only Leo stood half a chance of following at least some of Donnie's techno babble, but even he got lost more often than not.

Mikey turned from the stove, walking over to the table with three bowls of tomato soup. Raph accepted his bowl with a small grunt of thanks, then reached for a second sandwich. "Where's Fearless?" he asked, glancing around the lair, his eyes running over the open door leading into the dojo.

"He left to go to April's," Mikey answered easily, dipping the edge of his sandwich into the soup and taking a bite. "I gesh she picked up shome groceries for ush."

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Donnie admonished distractedly from across the table.

Mikey stuck a tongue full of chewed up food at their brother, but Don was too busy perusing the notes laid out around his bowl to notice.

"I could tell he had a headache," Mikey continued a moment later, "so I wouldn't be surprised if he hangs out with April this afternoon. He tends to try and avoid us when he has a headache."

Raph felt a small pang of guilt at Mikey's statement. He hadn't known Leo's head hurt, but it would explain why his brother was trying to take a nap in the middle of the morning. Leo's headaches tended to be doozies…after all, his brother never did anything half way. Still, the jerk should have said something. It wasn't Raph's fault that Leo had the annoying habit of trying to hide it whenever he was in pain. He was pretty good at it too, except when it came to Mikey. Their youngest brother seemed to have a six sense when it came to the oldest and his attempts to hide pain or injury.

"What about Sensei?" Donnie asked, looking up briefly from his notes.

"He ate some soup earlier, then went to his room" Mikey answered. "I think he's resting now."

Donnie nodded, satisfied. "Good. He'll need plenty of rest to recover from that virus."

They finished the rest of lunch in silence…unless you counted Donnie's occasional mutterings as he continued to read over his notes. Raph stuffed the last of his sandwich in his mouth then looked over at Mikey. "Want to play a round of Virtual Fighter with me?" he asked.

Mikey's eyes lit up. "Oh yeah," he cried. "Dibs on first controller."

Raph snorted. "Yeah right," he replied, casting his brother an evil grin. "You know the rules, Mikey. First come, first serve." His position at the table put him a good five feet closer to the main room…there was no way his brother could beat him to the controllers.

No sooner had this thought passed through his mind then Mikey was moving, leaping up from his chair and jumping straight up onto the table. Raph barely had time to register his surprise before his brother was springing forward, doing a somersault up and over his head and landing lightly behind him. Raph swore, twisting around in his chair and making a wild grab for his brother. He'd forgotten for a moment that Mikey was easily the fastest and most agile among them.

He got lucky and managed to snag the very ends of Mike's bandana tails as his brother shot towards the couch. Not expecting the sudden tug to his head, Mikey's legs slid out from under him and he fell back with a crash. In an instant Raph was on top of him, sitting down on Mikey's chest and pressing one hand down over his brother's face.

"Donny, heeeelp!" Mikey wailed from between Raph's fingers.

Donnie glanced over at them from the table, shaking his head. "I'm staying out of this," he replied simply, gathering up his notes and carefully skirting his wrestling brothers as he headed back toward the lab.

Raph smirked. Really, Mikey should have known better. If Leo were here then there might have been a slight chance his brother could have garnered some sympathy, but Donnie was way too smart for that. And if Leo were here, he'd probably just take the opportunity of a trapped Mikey to lecture his youngest brother for jumping on the table.

"Do you yield?" he asked, grinning down at his wildly squirming brother.

Mikey struggled even harder, trying to see if there was any give to Raph's hold. Raph responded by pushing even more weight down on his brother's plastron, causing Mikey to wheeze in an effort to pull in air.

"Alright…gah…yes…I yield," Mikey gasped out.

With a triumphant smirk, Raph released his brother and rose, reaching down to offer Mikey a hand up. His little brother glowered at him for a moment, but then took the offered hand. By the time they had reached the couch, Mikey was all smiles once more. That was one thing about their orange banded brother…Raphael didn't think Mikey could hold a grudge to save his life. Well, except for that one time when Donnie had pulled his tooth…

Soon a vicious game of virtual fighter was underway, neither brother noticing or caring as the afternoon slowly drifted away.

TMNT TMNT TMNT TMNT

Leo awoke to pain and darkness.

He had no memory of where he was or how he had gotten there. All he knew was that it was dark, he was wet, and he was in pain…a lot of pain.

He was lying on his back, his eyes staring sightlessly into the blackness around him while a steady stream of water poured down on him from somewhere above, splashing against his plastron and flowing down his body to join the puddle he could already feel lapping over his feet. The water was cold, and he gave an involuntary shudder. Even that small movement had his body screaming in protest, fiery fingers of pain racing up and down his left side, stealing his breath.

Okay, so moving was definitely not advisable.

He drew in a deep, painful breath, fighting to remember exactly where he was and what had happened to him. Unfortunately, his mind was refusing to cooperate at the moment, his thoughts slow and sluggish, as though moving through molasses. It hurt to think. His head felt as though it was on fire, one more pain in the sea of torment that currently encompassed his entire body.

'I think I fell.'

The thought was distant, skittering across the edges of his consciousness, but he latched on to it, forced his aching mind to focus on it. He had a vague memory of feeling the ground shifting beneath his feet, a moment of panic as he felt himself falling, and then…nothing.

He blinked his eyes hard, trying to see anything in the blackness that surrounded him, but with no success. The familiar scents and sounds around him told him he was somewhere in the sewers, but he had no idea where. He thought he could make out a small rectangle of dim light somewhere far above him, but other than that there was nothing.

The first icy fingers of fear began to pulse somewhere deep in the pit of his stomach, growing and writhing within him like a living beast. He fought against it, willfully pushing it back down. Fear wouldn't help him now. He had to try to remain calm and focus. With his memory playing hide and seek, he needed to assess how badly he was injured, and then hopefully figure out a way out of here…and the sooner, the better.

He took another deep breath, allowing his eyes to slide closed. The darkness remained the same, but at least this way he could pretend he was in control of it. He focused on his breathing, practicing one of the many exercises Sensei had taught him to help calm the mind and body. After several long minutes he felt calmer, his fear still there, lurking in the background, but under control…at least for now.

Okay, now for the hard part.

With his eyes still closed, he began running a mental diagnostic of his body, starting at his toes and slowly moving up. Before, he had just been aware of the pain in general, overwhelming and all encompassing. Now, he tried to focus on pinpointing its exact source in the hopes of getting a better understanding of how severely he was injured. He remained perfectly still during the whole process, allowing his body to tell him what his eyes could not see.

It was immediately apparent that his left side had taken the brunt of his fall. The knee on that side felt achy and tight, as though the skin was being stretched…a good indication of swelling. His left upper thigh was on fire, sharp stabbing pains shooting up from the area. His hip and side were both throbbing fiercely, but if he had to guess, he would say they were merely badly bruised, with nothing broken.

Unfortunately, he couldn't say the same for his left arm and shoulder, which was a mass of agony from his fingertips up to his neck. Again, he could feel the telltale tightness of skin that told him the limb was badly swollen. Something was definitely broken there…possibly multiple "somethings."

To top it all off, his head felt as though a vicious beast were trapped inside, ripping and tearing ruthlessly at his skull in a mad effort to escape. He could also smell the tangy scent of blood, subtle beneath the wet smell of mold and mildew, but still strong enough to identify.

Knowing what he had to do next, Leo swallowed hard, gathering his courage. Then, moving slowly, he lifted his right arm and carefully brought it up to his head, letting his fingers gently slide along his skull until he reached the point where the pain seemed to be the worst.

Almost immediately his fingers felt the warm stickiness of blood, and beneath that, a large, swollen gash that hurt so bad he couldn't bring himself to continue to touch it. Instead, he moved his fingers all around it, trying to gauge the amount of blood. There seemed to be a fair amount, but that was hardly surprising…head wounds tended to bleed a lot. Still, most of the blood he encountered wasn't fresh, but rather sticky, indicating it was beginning to dry. It was a good sign that the bleeding had at least slowed…possibly stopped altogether.

Now for the rest of him.

He let the fingers of his right hand drift slowly down his injured arm, starting at his shoulder and moving down to his wrist. His touch was feather light, but even so he couldn't hold back a moan of pain. His arm was extremely sensitive, and his fingers confirmed what he had already surmised…that the limb was twisted oddly and badly swollen. He didn't feel any blood, though, which was good. Nor did he find any along his side and hip. That all changed, however, when he reached his thigh.

He let out a small gasp as his searching fingers brushed against something hard and cold protruding from the side of his leg. Pain flared, hot and angry, and he had to clench his teeth to keep from crying out. He forced his fingers to continue their inspection, quickly coming to the nauseating realization that the outside of his thigh had been impaled by something.

His first instinct was to grab the offending object and yank it out of his flesh, but with an effort he refrained. It was difficult to tell with all the water running down his leg, but he didn't think the bleeding was too severe. He knew enough about first aid to recognize that whatever had stabbed him might also be the only thing keeping him from bleeding to death. Removing it now, without the supplies or ability to treat the wound, could very well end up being a fatal mistake. As much as he disliked the idea, he was just going to have to leave it alone for now.

Letting out a harsh breath, he relaxed back into the wet ground beneath him, his right arm slipping back across his chest to fall loosely beside him. He knew he was in serious trouble. There was no way he'd be able to get out of here…wherever here was… under his own power. He needed help.

More specifically, he needed his brothers.

A sudden mental image of each of them formed in his mind: Mikey staring at the TV with an intent expression, Don twirling his Bo staff and smirking at him from across the dojo, Raph casting him a condescending look as he flipped the volume of his stereo higher…

And just like that, his memory returned to him, the morning's events playing out through his mind in the space of a few heartbeats. He remembered waking up with a headache, being irritated with his brothers, leaving the lair to head to April's, hearing a noise and going to investigate, and finally, the whole fiasco with the drainage grate.

He closed his eyes and groaned, his right fist pounding softly against the ground at his side. How could he have been so foolish? If only he had been paying better attention to where he was going, none of this would have happened. How many times had he lectured his brothers on the importance of always being aware of your surroundings? And yet here he was, stuck at the bottom of a dark hole, hurting and helpless, and all because he had committed a novice mistake. The realization was enough to make him feel physically ill.

When his brothers found out what had happened, they would never let him hear the end of it. Of course, the way he was feeling right now, Leo was willing to put up with a little mocking from his siblings, as long as they got him the hell out of here.

Speaking of which…

He slipped his right hand across his plastron and down to his belt, his fingers searching the wet leather for some sign of his shell cell. It wasn't there. Grimacing in disappointment, he carefully ran his right arm in a blind arc to the side, hoping he might find it lying somewhere nearby. Nothing. It could be lying anywhere, but in the dark he had little chance of finding it. He could only hope it had somehow survived the fall so that Donnie could use it to track him.

He had no way of knowing how much time had passed since he had fallen…how long he had been unconscious. He desperately hoped his brothers were even now on their way to fish him out of this hole, but he realized that might not be the case. It was possible his family didn't even realize he was missing yet. It was possible that rescue might still be hours away. It wasn't exactly a comforting thought, but Leo knew he had to be prepared for a long wait.

His body gave another involuntary shudder, and he gasped at the pain. He was so very cold, and the water pouring down on him certainly wasn't helping any. With the extent of his injuries, he knew the possibility of going into shock was a very real danger. And even if he managed to avoid that, hypothermia was another concern. As much as he just wanted to lay still and wait for his brothers, he knew he needed to move…to try and get somewhere that was at least dry.

Unfortunately, he knew that moving meant pain, and a lot of it. It also meant taking a risk that he might further aggravate his injuries. Moving around with an unknown object sticking out of your leg didn't seem like a really smart move. And yet, he knew that he didn't really have much of a choice…not if he wanted to survive long enough for his brothers to find him.

He could tell the ground beneath him was sloped gently downward, which meant if he could drag himself backwards a few yards, hopefully he would be able to find some dry…or at least dryer…ground. At the very least he would no longer be lying directly beneath the stream of water coming down from above.

Closing his eyes, he drew in several deep, calming breaths before slowly and carefully leveraging himself up on his right elbow. Instantly the pain flared up, terrifying in its intensity, his body objecting to even that small of movement. He clenched his jaw tightly closed, a low moan bubbling up from the back of his throat. He hadn't even done the hard part yet, and he was already tempted to give up and just lay back down. At least when he wasn't moving the pain was bearable.

But he was Hamato Leonardo, leader of his clan, and he'd be damned if he allowed himself to give up so easily. He'd been in pain before and overcome, and he would do so again.

Breathing heavily through his nose, he reached out with his right hand and unbuckled the strap holding his kantanas to his back, letting them drop free and moving them carefully to one side. Then he firmly anchored his right hand against the wet ground at his side and, before he could think too much about what he was about to do, used the leverage to heave himself backward.

He almost screamed with the force of the pain slamming into him. If he had thought it had been bad before, it was nothing compared to the agony that engulfed him now. Regardless, he clenched his jaw tightly closed and forced himself to repeat the movement a second, and then a third, time.

Two minutes and six more pushes later, he felt his shell come up against something solid…likely the wall of the tunnel. He collapsed back against it, panting harshly, tears burning in his eyes and bile stinging the back of his throat as he fought against the urge to throw up. He couldn't remember ever being in this much pain. The pulse in his head pounded out the over-quick rhythm of his heart, and he was pretty sure that if he could see the room around him, it would be spinning in dizzying circles.

"Come quick, guys," he whispered softly into the darkness.

He could feel his mind slowly releasing the thin hold it had on consciousness. His body was beginning to slump to the right, but he didn't have the strength or will to stop it. His eyes blinked once, then twice, before finally drifting closed and remaining shut, the pain of his battered body chasing him once more into the sweet relief of oblivion.

TBC

Please let me know what you think. Reviews are a writer's bread and butter. You wouldn't want me to starve, would you?