Longest chapter yet for this story. And be warned; a bit graphic.

Mikey lounged on the couch in the living room, watching some movies, and stuffing handful after overfull handful of potato chips into his mouth, as his eyes eagerly devoured the B-movie playing on the TV screen. Master Splinter had gone to bed a few hours ago, having given up on waiting up for his second oldest son to arrive back home. Don had wandered into his lab and had begun tinkering with some sort of machine that Leo was unsure of not only its function, but its viability as well.

The lair mostly quiet, just the sound from the TV and the occasional sound of metal clanging against metal issuing from Don's lab. Everything was pretty normal... right down to the pacing turtle, who continued to wait up for Raph. Leonardo repeated his own words in his mind, 'Raph's rash actions might one day be the end of him.'

As the eldest, he couldn't help but worry about his brothers; especially Raph. The fact that Raph was still outside made him worry even more, but he knew that Raph had his shell cell with him. He didn't have any big reason to be overly worried just yet.

Another hour passed by, and still, Raph wasn't home. What had started out as mild concern, had now blossomed into overwhelming worry. It wasn't like Raph to be out for over four hours without at least checking in. Though Leo knew that there were instances where Raph would stay out until dawn when he was really angry. But as far as Leo knew, Raph was not angry, just eager to be topside.

Of all of his brothers, Raph was the one who was able to get away with remaining topside for a lot longer and more often than the rest of them, without suffering their father's disapproval and punishments.

'Maybe he just lost track of time.' Leo thought to himself, hopefully. He decided that he would continue to wait up for Raph for a little longer. He didn't want to worry Don, Mikey, or his father just yet. He would give Raph two more hours tops, before alerting his family to their brother's worrying tardiness. And besides, there was still a lot of evening left.

Leo continued to pace, trying to ignore the ball of dread that had curled up into his stomach, but couldn't seem to quell the feeling that something horrible had happened to his brother.

….

The circular saw had easily cut through the turtle's belt, the leather falling to the side so that Bishop now had an unobstructed cutting surface to work with. Bishop had relished in the unadulterated fear that had risen up in the red masked freak, but playtime was now over, and he had some serious work to be doing. He started up the saw again.

Raph felt his skin quiver in fear, as the circular saw blade neared his plastron for a second time. Raph searched the room, listened intently for signs of a disturbance that would indicate that his brothers had arrived, but he heard nothing. Only the high pitched whine of the saw, as it was held mere eighths of an inch above his plastron. It was then that the horrific thought struck him; that his brothers didn't even realize that he had been kidnapped in the first place.

As this thought struck him, Raph knew that it was the truth. His brothers would not worry about him until he did not show up at dawn, and by then, it would be much, much too late for him. Raph swallowed down his fear, and closed his eyes against what was no doubt going to be agonizingly painful.

"I do apologize." Bishop soothed. "Sorry I can't administer a sedative. It will mess up my findings." Bishop gleefully repeated the very words that he had said to Mikey the first time they had met. Raph could never forget how terrified Mikey had been at the time, and now Raph was able to fully appreciate the sadistic simplicity of the threat.

The saw blade touched down in the middle of Raph's left scute, high above where his belt had been moments ago. It began to move to his right, straight across. Raph just clenched his teeth and tried to keep from screaming. He was not going to give Bishop the satisfaction. He was used to pain and he could withstand a lot of it. But Raph knew that the type of pain that Bishop had in store for him, was going to be a kind of pain that he would be unable to even fathom.

Bishop noticed that Raphael was holding back, and not allowing his pain to show. Feeling irritated, Bishop pressed the saw roughly through the hard keratin and into the thick, white membrane located beneath the turtle's plastron.

Raph felt the blade bite into his soft, vulnerable flesh, and he was unable to restrain the roar of agony that was issued from his lips. His scream reverberated throughout the room, and Bishop's blade bit through more and more vulnerable flesh.

"That's more like it." Bishop smiled with dark relish at the turtle's agonized screams. "I was afraid you had gone to sleep and would miss all the fun."

"Fuck you!" Raph managed to grind out as the saw eased up slightly.

Bishop grinned sadistically, and pressed the whirling blade into Raph's flesh again, not deep enough to damage any organs, but deep enough to cause Raph to throw back his head again in agony and scream.

Blood marred Raph's plastron, wetting the white sheets that lay beneath Raph's struggling form. The more he screamed, the deeper and longer the saw went. When Bishop noticed a few tears dampening Raphael's mask, he stopped 'playing' with him.

Bishop smiled proudly, having finally managing to make the hotheaded freak weep like a little school girl. It was disappointing that he wasn't openly crying, but a few tears were good enough. It was time to get down to the serious business of opening the turtle up and poking around inside.

After two more hours of pacing, Leo was beside himself with worry. Dread had crawled it's way along his skin, making it cold and sticky with sweat. He took one final look at the clock and decided that they had waited long enough; it was time to find Raph.

He quickly strode to Don's lab, his eyes searching for his genius brother, who had his head bent over a microscope. "Donny, I am very worried about Raph. He still hasn't come home yet." Leo told his brother anxiously.

Donny lifted his head from the microscope and looked at Leo. "You know Raph, he hasn't been out of the lair in so long, I'd think he wanted to be out all night for the sheer fun of it. He's probably out with Casey somewhere, breaking a few heads to make himself feel better, let off a little steam." Donatello said soothingly.

"Raph would have called by now, he always does if he knows he's going to be out late, or with Casey." Leo said, picking his phone out of his belt and opening it. He quickly dialed Raph's number.

Don placed his eyes over the microscope lenses again and waited for Raph to answer Leo's phone call, not worried yet.

On the 6th ring, the phone went straight to voicemail, and Leo sensed that there was something very wrong with their hotheaded brother. "He didn't answer his shell cell, Donny." Leo told Donny softly.

Donny frowned and looked up. He straightened, his mind thinking furiously. "I'll check his shell cell's tracking on my computer." Don said. He walked to his computer and sat down in the chair, his fingers flying furiously across the keyboard. He brought up the GPS tracking program that he had installed on each of their shell cell phones, just in case. Don studied the map and frowned. The tracker was active, but it wasn't moving.

"Raph's shell cell hasn't moved in over 2 hours. It isn't like Raph to stay in one spot for very long, unless he is at April and Casey's." Donny informed Leo, a grim frown on his face.

"Where's the signal coming from?" Leo asked Don, as the adrenaline began pumping through his veins, his heart beginning to pound painfully in his chest.

"It seems to be coming from across the city in Brooklyn. It's over the river. Raph wouldn't be able to get over there without the Shell Cycle." Don said, his voice beginning to shake with worry. "Come on. Let's go get him."

Leo didn't hesitate for a moment, his suspicions confirmed. Dawn was fast approaching, and the time for them to be out on the streets was shrinking with every passing moment.

Leo went to go get Mikey, who was asleep on the couch, while Don gathered some supplies, in case Raph needed medical attention.

"Mikey, wake up!" Leo hissed, shaking his baby brother awake.

"Huh? Leo?" Mikey mumbled in confusion.

"Get up. We need to go and get Raph right now. He hasn't come home from his run yet." Leo urged his sleepy baby brother awake, forcing him to get off the couch and move.

"Alright." Mikey yawned. He groggily slid from the couch and followed his eldest brother to the garage, where Don was now waiting for them.

"Shouldn't we tell Master Splinter?" Don asked.

"Yes, I'll run and tell him." Leo said, and turned shell and ran to tell their father. Don needed to make sure they had enough supplies anyway.

Leo ran into Splinter's room, and gently shook Splinter awake. "Father, Raph's missing. He hasn't come home yet."

Splinter snapped awake at those words. His face setting into deep lines of worry for his most difficult son. "Do you know where he is?" His aged voice asked.

"Don tracked his phone over to somewhere in Brooklyn. We're getting ready to go get him now. I just had to come real quick and tell you so that you would know where we were going." Leo said.

"Bring him home, Leonardo." Master Splinter replied softly, as he nodded his head in understanding.

"We will." Leo promised, standing up. He ran back to the garage to get in the truck, where everyone was buckled in and just waiting for him. Don floored it, all of them sensing that something was wrong with Raph. Determination ran hotly through Leo, they were going to find Raph and bring him home.

Master Splinter closed his eyes and hoped that his other sons would be able to find their wayward brother by themselves. He knew them to be perfectly capable of the job, but wished that he were himself, not so old to be participating in the search.

Bishop finished his cut up to the top of the freak's right scute. Satisfied with the length and depth of the cut, he began to cut downwards. He cut to just below where the belt had been, and then continued to cut back to the left scute. By the time he was done, there was a good-sized square in the lower middle of Raph's plastron.

"Now to take the square off." Bishop said, pleased with his progress thus far.

Raph's torso vibrated with a dull, throbbing pain. He was ashamed that he had given Bishop the satisfaction of hearing him scream in agony. He could feel the wetness of his mask sticking to his face, but was only able to comfort himself with the thought that he hadn't openly wept like a child.

At Bishop's softly spoken words, Raph forced himself to unclench his eyes and look down his body. His vision was blurred with the tears that he had refused to shed. He blinked away the moisture, fearing what he would find. He saw that a large square had been cut into his blood splattered plastron. He felt his eyes widen in surprise at the horrifying sight. His stomach grew heavy and rolled uncomfortably, as he swallowed the vomit down, which burned in his throat.

Bishop reached down with his glove encased hands to remove the square cut in the turtle's plastron. Looking over, Bishop picked up a long, thin piece of metal, and inserted it into the edge of the square. Blood seeped from around the edges as Bishop began to pry the keratin from his flesh.

Searing pain shot through Raph as Bishop managed to gain a little bit of purchase, discarding the prying tool, and tearing the square of plastron from his flesh in one swift movement. The pain was unimaginable. Raph threw back his head and screamed in agony. His plastron being torn from his flesh was akin to a human having their fingernail torn off, times a thousand. Black spots danced before his eyes as his pain engulfed mind took in the white, bloody flesh beneath his plastron. The black spots suddenly got thicker and wider, dragging Raph down into blessed oblivion.

Bishop watched as the turtle's body went suddenly limp. He quickly checked the pulse at the turtle's throat and found a steady pulse, thankful that the freak was still alive. His fun would have been ruined if he had died. Though Bishop knew that he would have taken that particular circumstance in stride, at least the turtle was still alive.

Bishop picked up a scalpel and quickly, but carefully cut through the thin, tough white membrane located just beneath the plastron. Using retractors, he pried open the flesh and held it there. Bishop's eyes carefully inspected the organs that he had exposed and gently pushed them aside, searching for the organs he had opened Raph up for in the first place.

He went digging carefully in the lower regions of his abdominal cavity, below the intestines and eventually found his quarry: the reproductive organs. They were a good size and in good condition for what would be normal in a healthy specimen.

Carefully moving the other organs aside, Bishop lifted them up, tied off the vas deferens so there wouldn't be any major bleeding, and cut the tubes on both sides. Then he removed Raph's reproductive organs out of his body, placing them carefully on a metal tray that was sitting next to him for further study later. He left everything else intact, but not before first having a look at each of the organs.

Bishop was impressed with the health of this particular specimen, especially considering that he had grown up in the sewers, subsisting off of who knew what types of food in his early days. This however was not important at the moment, Bishop had what he wanted. He would consider different aspects of the turtle's internal systems and workings the next time he opened him up. But for now, he had to close the incision up and replace the plastron and allow the turtle time to recover from his unwanted surgery.

All in all, Bishop was pleased with the success of the surgery. Neutering the turtle had been an easy task, with the exception of having to use a saw to remove the plastron.

Bishop removed the small retractors and quickly stitched the membrane closed. After this was accomplished, he carefully placed the square of the plastron back in place. Using epoxy glue and fiberglass strips, Bishop sealed up the cuts made by the circular saw.

Once this task was completed, one of Bishop's men entered the room and assisted him with covering the turtle's midsection in a thick covering of bandages to hold everything in place and protect the healing keratin. His assistant then helped move the turtle onto a stretcher.

His limbs were tied down again just in case he tried to escape when he woke up. Bishop went off to study the organs that he had removed while they were still fresh. If he froze them, he may even be able to use them for something at a later date.

Two assistants placed the unconscious turtle in a clean room with the lights left on. They lowered the stretcher onto the ground and left the room, locking the door securely behind them as they left.

…..

Raph began to wake up and stir as much as his restraints allowed him to. His body was nothing but a painful ball of raw nerves. He felt tears fill his eyes and spill over as he tried to breathe through the pain, letting out a faint, pitiful whimper. His vision was blurred at first, but slowly it began to focus. He noticed the bright lights, but they were not directly pointing in his eyes.

Regardless, it took several moments for his eyes to adjust to the brightness. Raph was fully expecting to see Bishop's smug face looming over his helpless, pain filled body, but found that he was completely alone. Relief flowed through him at this, and he searched his surroundings as best as he was able.

He forced himself to try and raise himself up, knowing that regardless of his pain, he needed to escape. Unfortunately, he found that his arms and legs were still tied down. He was able to raise his head up enough so that he was able to look down the length of his body. He observed the bandages wrapped around his midsection and fear shot through him, wondering what sick and twisted thing Bishop had done to him. But the need to escape, and the pain pushed any thoughts of what Bishop may have done to him from his mind as he gasped in agony as he tried to pull his arms and legs free of the restraints, to no avail.

Defeated, Raph laid his head back down and clenched his teeth in pain as another wave of agony tore through him, shaking him to his very core. It hurt so much to move; even breathing was painful. He struggled weakly, wanting to do nothing more than escape. Anger and hatred towards Bishop burned hotly through him, but this was quickly replaced by another tearing lash of pain that whipped through his abused body.

Raph gasped for breath and began to shiver with cold. His pain filled mind wondered how much blood he had lost, and if he was going to die here in this white, featureless room. He felt so damn weak and helpless. His stomach clenched as it rolled a wave of nausea through him. Exhaustion flowed heavily through every fiber of his being, as his head listlessly fell to the side.

He looked longingly at the door as he fought the clawing tendrils of unconsciousness that were rising up and trying to claim him. Fear shot through him at the possibility of Bishop doing even further damage to him while he was unconscious, but he was unable to fight the rising tide of black that was engulfing him.

Raph vaguely heard the sound of a blaring alarm, but it was so far away, and Raph wasn't even sure if it was real, or just some hopeful hallucination brought on by the pain, but it didn't matter. The darkness finally consumed him, dragging him down into peaceful unconsciousness.

And thanks to Darkunderworld and Who Am I. I'm Just Me for aiding. Read and review please. They always make my day greater.