Author's Note: Raphael POV for this chapter. It's a bit shorter than most, but I was trying to get across his fear and desperation without being too redundant.

As always I love reading everyone's comments. You guys are awesome. Enjoy!

Chapter 10

Raphael

I'm falling. Somehow that's more frightening than the sharp realization that I've been shot. The force of it makes my feet slip and the back of my legs catch the low ledge of the building. I can see Donnie, his eyes wide and panicked as they drop down onto him. They have him and I can't stop it. All I can do is meet his gaze one last time before I fall. I try to grab hold of something, anything, but there isn't time and the fall is too short. I hit the ground and the air leaves my lungs. Darkness presses down on my vision and the pain is no longer holding back any punches.

I have to get up. They have my brother. I can hurt later. I try to push off the ground, biting back a yell when my arm and leg both twist and burn in pain. There's blood in the snow, a lot of it; my blood. It's warm and sticky and coats my fingers when I try to stop the flow of it from one of the bullet wounds. I reach up and tear off my mask, tying it tight around my leg. Pain explodes and starbursts flash in my vision. I don't have time for this. They have Donnie. I can't let them get away. I can't let them hurt him. Not again.

"Hey! The other one ain't dead!"

The shout is followed by more gunfire and I roll beneath the fire escape to avoid it. I press against the wall, using the support to help me to my feet. The gunfire has stopped, but I can hear the clang of hurried feet on the fire escape above. I have to move. The first step is the worst and for one horrible moment I think I can't take another. I have to. I have to keep going. The alley opens onto a small side street and I duck into the first alcove I can find, clinging to shadows.

They run past me and I let out the breath I'm holding in a rush. I need to double back. I need to get Donnie. My body has other plans. My muscles cramp and burn as if they're tearing apart. I'm falling again, landing in a heap on the snow-covered paving stones. I fumble for my T-phone, my bloody hands making it a struggle. The bright screen only makes my blurred vision worse and I jab my thumb blindly across it, hoping for at least some luck. There's a soft ring and my head falls back against the ground, clutching the phone to my chest.

"This better be good, man. It is before eleven on a Sunday. You know I need my beauty rest," Casey's voice blares to life and I cover the speaker.

"C-Casey," I whisper and I don't recognize the pitiful, pained voice as my own.

"Raph? Raph, what is it? Are you all right? Where are you?"

He's still talking. I can hear the buzz of the words, but I can't make out what he's saying. It's too cold and I think the sun has gone down. I'll never find my brother if it's this dark out. I have to get up. They're going to hurt him. She's going to hurt him. I should have killed her when I had the chance…

"Hold him down!"

"I'm trying, Leo! He's just…ow! Come, on, Raph. Ya need to calm down. It's almost over, just calm down!"

I can't calm down. There is no such thing as calm in my world. There's pain and then more pain and the cold, pinch of dread in my stomach. The room is spinning and I can't find my voice. It's hidden beneath the screams and growls that seem to work past my lips without my say so. It's the red place, but it's blue too. That cold and hallow helplessness that suffocates the anger and squeezes my heart in a vice. They're holding me down. They're hurting me. I have to get up. I have to go after the Purple Dragons. They took my brother. She took him.

"Easy, come on, man. It's Mikey. You're safe. It's all right."

It's not all right, it's the furthest from all right that anything has ever been. Why are they holding me down? I need to go after them. We have to go after them. They have our brother. There isn't time for games, we have to go now. There's a pinch on my arm and a warm hand against my skin. The darkness is pulling at my vision again and I roll and pitch and try to run from it, but they're holding me down and my legs won't move. I'm trapped, I'm helpless and there is nowhere left to run.

Their voices are muffled and distant like there is cotton shoved in my ears. I try to move, but the pain and tightly wound straps, keep me in place. I roll my head to the side and force open my eyes. I'm home. I could smell the lair before my sight confirmed it. I'm home. Somehow, I made it back and now I'm lying, strapped to a table in Donnie's lab. Donnie.

"H-hey!" I try to call out but the word ends in a cough that sends a fresh wave a pain coursing through my body. I don't care. It isn't important. "Hey!" I call out again, this time managing more than a squeak.

Michelangelo slips into my eye line in under ten seconds and I'm sure he was sitting nearby. His hand rests tentatively on my right shoulder and I growl and thrash my head to the side when he attempts to feel the temperature of my forehead with the back of his hand.

"Lemme up," I hiss, pulling at my restraints.

"I can't do that, Raph," he says, looking frantically over his shoulder. "You need to calm down. You're going to pull your stitches again."

"I don't…I don't care, you idiot," I growl, renewing my thrashing. "They've got Donnie. We have to…she's going to…I have to…I can't just…"

The starbursts are back and my skin burns as if I'm on fire. I can't think. I can't move and the cold, blue dread is waiting no matter how I turn my head. Mikey's hand is back and he sniffles.

"I know, man. We're working on it. We're going to get him back. Master Splinter…he'll get him back," he says and each word sounds like a struggle. "But you gotta calm down. You're going to pull your stitches and bleed out…we can't lose you too."

He reaches out for my hand and I grip it like a lifeline. It's the only thing tethering me to consciousness and I'm not about to let it go. The fight leaves my body and I'm only left with the pain and the cold. I swallow back the rising burn of bile in my throat and close my eyes against the glaring overhead light.

"H-how…how did I get here?" I ask.

He sniffles before answering. "Casey found you. He traced your phone after you called him. He managed to stop the bleeding, but Leo and I had to carry you back."

There are flashes of white on red in my memory with long pauses of black in between. "Untie me," I say and he sniffles again.

"I can't do that," he says, holding firm to my hand even as I try to pull away. "You'll try to get up and you're going to hurt yourself."

"I won't," I insist, giving a feeble pull on the restraints. "I…I just…I don't want to be held down," I say, shame burning in my stomach when my voice breaks. "Please, Mikey I promise I won't get up, just untie me. I don't want…I can't…please."

"All right, all right, but you gotta promise to stay put," he says and he sounds scared.

The ties on my wrists loosen and I pull free, bringing up my right hand to rest against my upper plastron. He loosens the binds on my ankles next and I roll my feet. The worst of the panic fades when I'm sure I'm not trapped. Mikey is back at my side, his eyes widened into almost perfect circles. He looks older and somehow childlike all at once with deep lines under his eyes and slight waiver in his chin. This is her fault. She did this to him. She did this to all of us. She's going to pay.