"I'm still enchanted by the light you brought to me.

I listen through your ears

through your eyes I can see.

…I wasn't jumping

for me it was a fall.

it's a long way down to nothing

at all." – Stuck in a Moment You Can't Get Out of, U2

Chapter 10 – Free to Fall

The room was empty. Bare. But Leo stood in the center of it with shoulders hunched and head tipped slightly to one side - as though trying to recall what last item he'd forgotten to pack away. A duffle was slung over one shoulder, packed full, in one hand, his tatami mat, rolled tight.

The last of his personal possessions to be removed.

He remained like that, perhaps bidding his childhood sanctuary and (too often) solitary confinement a last moment of respect before turning away. He avoided Raph's gaze as he swept from the space, barely brushing by as he exited. Leaving Raph hovering in the doorway wondering at the smallness of it.

Glassy eyes lined with red took in the cracked walls, the low celling marred with water stains and exposed pipe, the ghostly outline of the mat where his brother spent his time meditating, planning; centering himself against the weight of his duty, against the weight of his responsibilities to his family, his father. Finding what escape he could inside his mind. A place no one could follow.

And now he was leaving them, physically, for good.

Raph stood there, and couldn't comprehend how such a tiny room had held such an enormous spirit.

But that was for later.

When he'd slip inside in the dead of the night, to kneel in the same spot as his brother had, all those years, to gather what he could of his memories of his idol. To reach with fingertips trembling and stroke, feather-light, the dusty cement.

At this moment, there was only the pulsing rage and the incessant gnawing of betrayal that colored the edges of the world in thunderstorm black. That turned the taste of food to gritty bland lumps and drained all notions of peace, happiness, and comfort away. And in his mind the words in a mobius strip, turning round and round upon itself like a snake devouring itself by the tail-end:

How can you do this? How can you do this? How can you do this?

He turned and followed his brother, stepping quick to catch up to his shadow, making no effort to hide his stomping footsteps.

Leo ignored him, as if anticipating such a reaction from his brother, but having no patience for it. Not now. He had to get to the docks where the ship lay waiting for him as well as the woman he loved.

Everything that had been said, had been said the night before. When everyone gathered to give well-wishes and hearty embraces. To say farewell. To joke and tease with tear-filled eyes. To say what was left to say before the distance and time carved an incalculable expanse between what should have never been sundered.

Raphael did not participate. He had better things to do.

And now the lair was empty. No witnesses to note the speedy exit and the pursuing sibling. Perhaps there was a note of finality in the air or warning. To stay away, this dark morning. Find other things to distract yourself with. The one we all adored and looked up to is, at last, leaving us. There is only pain here.

Leonardo fled up the rungs of the ladder to the surface, blending with the shadows above even as his apprehension filled the air behind him like some ghostly manifestation. Raph erupted through it, only subconsciously registering the taint in the air of his brother's anxiety, and if he had paused for but a moment to consider, it would have made him sorry for being the source of such dread for someone he loved too dearly. But like in the heat of battle, there was no time to weigh and wonder, only to act.

Leo would not leave them scarred and hurting and get away with it. Not if he could help it.

And the words became a mantra, thundering against the walls of his skull.

HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?! HOW COULD YOU!?

His arm shot out and his hand gripped his brother's shoulder, halting him and spinning him roughly around.

Leo offered no resistance.

And the resignation in his eyes somewhat doused the fire of Raphael's words before they spilled from his mouth, leaving only the bitterness of ash upon his tongue.

#

The brick snicked against the others as he dragged it from the heap. Fingers splayed wide, his knuckles whitened with the effort of pulling it close. All the strength he'd had earlier seemed to have been sapped by the dampness of this place, the spot where Mikey had found him all those years ago, where Leo had slipped aboard a vessel with Karai and had left them all behind.

Or perhaps the confrontation with his brother earlier had been the final straw – no, not the confrontation itself, but the revelation he'd seen in Donatello's eyes – the grim satisfaction of having known all along what Raph had always suspected of himself.

The worst of them had at long last proved himself to be just that – something he'd always suspected Leonardo believed, if secretly, about him. He was a monster, an evil aberration, an absolute loser. No need for any further evidence. No reason to fight against that unspoken epitaph any longer. What was the use? You could not defeat reality.

Raphael sniffled as new tears welled and spilled freely over his face. He disgusted himself. Deserved no pity. For the betrayal he'd acted upon this evening, he deserved only his family's revulsion and dismissal, if not worse.

There was nothing he could do for atonement. It was far too late for that. There was no going back, not to them, not to her. He couldn't face them, couldn't face what they'd demand of him. He couldn't.

To lose her would drive him further into insanity. To keep her . . . He stared at the brick through glassy eyes.

It was wrong. All wrong. On so many levels, wrong. But he'd fallen for KoKoa. Hard. No denying what his old heart insisted.

And instead of being strong and resisting, he crumbled. Instead of honoring his brother's memory, he dismantled and mangled it. With his own bare hands, with the heat of his heaving body, with the ugly force of his lust, he destroyed it. As he did with everything good in his world, everything he cherished.

The voice that arose before him was gentle and held a hint of amused exasperation, as so often it did, before. 'Raph.'

No, Raphael thought.

He shook his head and clamped his eyes shut tight just as the apparition took shape at the edge of his vision. It wasn't real, but he couldn't help but speak out loud to it, "I don't want to hear it, not from you, not from no one. I'm sick. Diseased. What I did to KoKoa . . ." he choked and broke into a dry sob, shoulders heaving as he fought against the tide of emotions wrenching him further from the edge of reason.

It only proved that his was a weakness born out of spirit, mind and body. A cancer within that he could never cure. Not without severing something critical from himself. Not without a cost too high to pay. He'd known all along it would come to this. It was only a matter of time. He'd run for so long from the truth. Fought hard against the inevitable.

But tonight there was no other choice. His debt had come due. And it was a steep one. He would resist no longer.

Gathering himself with a shuddering gasp, he shook his head and said, "What else can I do? She'll never forgive me."

Against the pylons, the murky waves lapped a rhythm that lulled him into a near-stupor. Reflecting light from the shore, the water rippled in wavering white lines above and all around him, giving the place an unsteady, wobbling, otherworldly feel.

It matched the surreal nature of his business there.

The smell of brine and decaying fish hung in the air, creating an odd mix of cloying richness and brisk freshness. The sharp convergence of life's beginning and its end. It permeated through the wood of the covered dock where Raphael crouched, staring at the brick in his hands as if he'd never seen it before, wondering where it came from.

The apparition flickered, catching the light from the waves and Raphael glanced at it, then quickly away. "'m sorry." A line of spittle dribbled from his swollen bottom lip, dancing as he muttered it again, then over and over again. And it wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

The lonely toll of some distant bell rang out and startled him. Ignoring the phantom of his long dead brother sitting before him, trembling in and out of focus within the caging rays of rippling light, he went back to work, stacking the brick on top of the pile within the bag between his knees.

'There's no point to this.'

Raphael nodded. "Yeah, bro. There's a point. It has to weigh enough. To pull me down and keep me there," he mumbled, wiping at his still-bleeding mouth. "Gotta do somethin' right," he wheezed between broken breaths.

He tied the handles of the plastic bag, full of bricks, into a knot, looping the end of the thick rope beneath and knotting that tight. The other end of the rope lead to his neck. He peered from his blackened eyes at the two other bags, filled and tied in a similar fashion, connected to ropes binding each wrist.

He sat there, eyes growing unfocused, listing to the lap of the waves, the vague sounds of the city beyond. Ignoring the presence of his dead brother, but feeling him there as real as his own aching limbs. The memories rose and fell in tandem with the melody of the water.

#

He threw the fist without preamble. And Leo allowed it to connect.

His head snapped back and he faltered several steps before going down on his bottom.

Raphael towered over him. "Get up."

Leonardo rose up onto his elbow. The strap of his back limped from his shoulder as he shrugged it free. He climbed to his feet without moving to wipe at his cheek. The next blow snapped his head to one side and staggered him back, but he maintained his balance.

Raph closed in on him. A freight train. Furious. Unstoppable. He cocked his fist. Struck Leo square in the face. It dropped him. If Leo's lack of resistance came as a surprise to Raphael, he didn't show it. He paced and growled, swearing.

Leonardo rolled to one side and shook his head. He blinked hard a few times and shook his head again. Blood sprayed from between his lips and he spat.

"You make me sick," Raph said. He stalked around to get into Leo's line of vision. "You hear me?"

Leo nodded, complying as he made a clumsy attempt to right himself. He swayed, but managed to sit upright, cupping the side of his face and wincing slightly. It had already turned a deep purple and the flesh just above his right eye was swelling.

Raph swore and turned in a circle. He dropped into a crouch. "You never cared about us," Raph said, watching Leo intently, looking for any reaction other than the bland, pliant expression on his face that only served to twist his anger tighter.

Leo stared at him.

He voiced the words, "How could you do this? How can you just leave?"

Leo said nothing, giving him a chance to say whatever else he needed to.

"You never," Raph's voice caught and he looked away. His gaze snapped back. There was in his eyes a glimmer of something like panic, melting back to reveal a vulnerability that Raphael would deny existed within his soul. "No matter what I say to you, you're not gonna –"

Leonardo was already shaking his head.

Raph's mouth closed and pressed into a grim line. He ran a hand over his face and laughed, bitterly. "Nah. Why would you?" Raph looked away. "You fuckin' traitor."

If he'd had looked in that instant, he would have seen Leo flinch. Would have registered what that flippant taunt said in anger had cost Leonardo.

He smacked his thighs, straightened up and reached down to offer his hand to Leonardo, who after a moment, took it. Raphael heaved him up to stand with a grunt. Without letting go of his brother's hand, Raphael yanked on it, pulling him close until their faces were but an inch away from one another.

"Go on and leave. It don't make no difference to me."

Leo made to move, but Raph held him tightly, "You're nothing to me."

Leonardo's eyes dropped.

"Do me a favor."

Slowly, Leo raised his eyes to meet Raphael's.

"Don't come back."

With that, he shoved Leonardo away, turned his back and stormed away without a glance back.

#

Raphael rested his hand on top of the bulging bag of bricks. He looked up and stared at the imagined specter of his brother.

"I never got it right."

Leonardo, the ghost of him, the hallucination or whatever it was, gazed at him, with eyes that held no judgement, no guile, only the steady, patient strength that gave Raphael the courage to go on.

"Saying I love you."

The ghost said nothing.

"But I did." Raphael choked, doing everything he could to maintain eye contact with the faded hallucination. "And I do. Love you."

Raphael shook his head, and whispered, "Always will, big brother."

They sat for another minute, not speaking, having nothing more to say, as the night gave way in the east to the first lavender-laced with gold rays. The promise of a new day.

Raphael sniffed and swallowed roughly; he nodded to himself as if he'd made the last of his peace and was satisfied. "Okay. See you on the other side."

He lumbered to stand, awkwardly gathering two of the bags in one arm. The ghost remained. Watching him as he inched over to the end of the dock, dragging the bag tied to his left arm along the wooden planks.

'She needs you.'

Raph paused. He heaved a great sigh and shook his head with a hollow laugh. "Now I'm sure you're nothing but my own head messin' with me. 'Cuz you're only saying what I want to hear."

'It doesn't matter when it's true.'

"Yeah, well," his battered face twisted into a wry smile. "I think I've done enough damage for one lifetime."

He turned and began to lower the bags towards the foaming wave below, twisting slightly to heave it out beyond the nearest pylon, where the water would be deep enough to hide his body until the fish and time ate away everything but what might become, one day, a superstitious curiosity if found, and nothing more.

'Remember what I said to you?'

Raphael froze.

'As you walked away.'

Raphael's body stiffened as the memory crawled its way back to the surface of his mind.

#

Leonardo's voice, only slightly muffled from the battering it took, called out to him. He paused at the edge of the opening of the sewer, listening with every inch of his body, fighting the urge to turn around and run to him, to embrace Leo and spill his guts about how sorry he was. How his leaving was killing him. Slowly, inch by inch. Erasing everything good from his life. But he remained, shell to Leo, as if he couldn't care less for what Leo had to say.

"Listen," he started, voice tight. "It's okay, Raph. I . . . I understand. And I'm sorry. I know you're angry and I'm pretty sure I'd be feeling exactly how you are if our roles were reversed."

Raphael rolled his eyes, but didn't move.

"But, please . . . it's our - my - only chance at something like happiness. And I hope one day, you can have it, too. Like what we used to talk about. On our runs. Remember?"

Raphael shook his head, scarcely moving so Leo wouldn't see him react to his words.

"I want that for you. That happiness. More than anything. I wish I could just give you what I have. But I can't. Raph. I can't."

Raphael closed his eyes. Felt the sting of tears. The squeezing pain of his heart being crushed.

"So, be angry with me. It's all right. But right now, I have to go. I have to. I'm sorry. I'll come back when I can. When it's safe. I promise."

Raphael shook his head and moved to drop into the opening, not wanting to hear anything else his brother had to say.

"Take care of yourself."

He dropped into the darkness, chased by Leonardo's final softly spoken remark, almost missed. But seared into his memory, forever.

#

The apparition repeated it again, 'I love you, bro.'

Raphael hugged the bag of bricks to his chest, shaking where he stood. His head dropped back as he let loose a cry. A wail of anguish and loss, of regret and sorrow. A damn breaking built of misused, botched years of living a half-life. Roaming aimlessly, recklessly, with the delirious confusion of one who'd lost the compass of their life, only to have been brought back home by the bewildering light of an unexpected love.

A voice cut through his howl. One filled with utter fright. "Raph! Stop!"

He froze and turned a look of shocked incomprehension upon his little brother just before he was tackled and thrown to the side. Their bodies struck the planks with a crash. The wood splintered beneath them.

Raphael gave a pained shout as his ribs snapped under the weight of the bags of bricks and his brother; no lightweight in his middle-aged years. Hands pawed at him and then a flash of light as he was slapped not once but twice.

Fury, familiar and welcome, washed through him. He bucked and scrambled, knocking the bricks away, flailing against the tangled ropes in order to take a swing at Michelangelo.

Before he could, Raph was slapped once more. His growl turned into a roar and finally, he was able to throw Mikey from his torso. Mikey rolled and came up to a crouch, panting.

Raphael fumbled to sit up, still tangled in the mess of ropes, surrounded by bricks and plastic. "What the hell you doin'!?" Raph hollered, face burning beneath the throbbing ache from his earlier injuries. Grabbing at his side to cup the source of radiating pain in his ribcage.

"I could ask the same thing!" Mikey screamed, gesturing wildly at the bindings around his neck and wrists. "What the hell, man! What the actual hell!?"

Raphael, chest heaving and shaking with a jolt for every breath brought a sudden spear of agony from his broken rib, slumped back. All the fight gone out of him.

Mikey gasped and made a frustrated sound as his punched the wooden planks on either side of him. "Why would you," Mikey choked and started again. This time, his voice rang out hoarse and full of fury, standing out above it all, the plain hurt, "How could you do this?"

Raphael started at the achingly familiar question. He sat stunned. Unable to speak. Unable to answer.

From the corner of his eye, Raphael saw someone else running down the length of the dock. She ran, breathless, only to stop suddenly and to stand next to Mikey, who brought his arm up to halt her from getting any closer. His aching heart squeezed and tumbled.

KoKoa.

Over her shoulders, his leather coat.

Raph ducked his head, covered his face, seared by humiliation and shame.

Her voice was shrill with fright. "Oh my fucking god. What –"

"Go away. Mikey, get her outa here!"

KoKoa and Mikey exchanged looks.

"Will you get the fuck outa' here?!"

KoKoa scrambled around Mikey, out of his reach as he tried to stop her. "Wait, KoKo." She dashed to Raph's side, hesitating at the last second before falling to her knees next to him.

"You heard me!"

He jerked to one side, but didn't get far as his rib poked him, stopping his motion, making him grunt in pain. He shook his head and tried to shove her hands away. Gasping painfully and suddenly feeling the years weighing upon him. The emotional toll of the night. His struggling grew ineffectual and half-hearted.

Avoiding his weak efforts, KoKoa caught his hand and cradled it against her torso. "Stay still. Let me get this."

Raph fell still as ordered. She went to work untying the knot at his wrist, huffing and struggling at the bulk of it.

Mikey fell silent watching them as the dull horror of what he nearly witnessed faded back to a shadow in his mind like that of a particularly disturbing nightmare come the dawn. He knew what his brother was capable of – this wasn't the first time. But had it ever gotten so close? He shuddered and pinched his eyes closed.

When would his brothers stop torturing themselves?

A lump formed in his throat. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. He shuddered.

The crazy showdown with Don and April back at the house, the frantic search; speeding down the alleys, doing his best not to let his panic show, hoping that he could keep KoKoa from leaping from the back of his motorcycle at the slightest sign of his brother and getting herself killed; only at the last minute realizing that there might be one place that Raphael would go to in his darkest moment and that thought alone cinching his stomach and making him feel on the brink of a heart attack . . . Finding him about to . . . to . . . to . . . Mikey groaned.

It was too much. How could he be expected to watch over them, still? Alone? He was getting too old for this. Forget over-eating and the errant gang member, his family was going to end up killing him. The fallout from this alone was going to take its toll on his brother. He'd have to be on emergency watch for the next few weeks if not longer.

I can't do this anymore, he thought desperately.

With that, his eyes opened and fell on his niece. He watched Kokoa as she slowly managed to undo the rope at his brother's wrist – the sight of which made Mikey nauseas - pulling it free with a gasp of irritation and triumph.

Mikey blinked blearily and felt his heart warm towards her. This tiny mutant woman – this hot-headed, snarky, kind-hearted, young, stubborn, loyal-to-a-fault, impossible miracle of a girl.

How she loved his brother – despite everything. And how Michelangelo loved her for it. Dearly.

Maybe he would not be alone in helping his brother recover. Maybe, at last, Raphael would have someone all to himself to watch over him.

Raphael peered out from under his hand to look at her, finally surrendering it to her insistent prodding. Quietly, voice rough from exertion and emotion, he asked, "What are you doing here, KoKoa?"

She shook her head and though she tried to keep her face lowered, he could make out the tears dancing in her eyes. "Isn't it obvious?"

Raphael watched as her fingers plied and worked until the knot uncoiled and the rope fell limp to one side. Hesitantly, she lifted her fingertips, raw from the roughness of the rope, to his neck. Slowly, he raised his chin and she set to untying the knot at the base of his throat. His Adam's apple bobbed.

"You shouldn't've come," he murmured.

With heavy lidded eyes, he watched the tears now spilling down her face. With his heart fracturing at the sight, he couldn't stop himself, "What's with the waterworks? Someone die?"

"I hate you," she whispered, voice catching.

The rope fell away and they sat, facing one another. KoKoa's eyes askance, but Raph's never leaving her face.

"I don't deserve," he croaked, "anythin' from you. Not after . . ." He couldn't finish and felt even more the coward for it.

The weight of the ropes falling away was replaced with a terrible exhaustion. If he were to close his eyes now, he would never awaken again. He was tempted. Sorely. But for one thing.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

She shook her head.

"KoKo," he insisted, voice thick, close to being unable to speak, but with effort, he managed. "I don't expect forgiveness, but you gotta know. I'm so sorry for . . . for hurting you."

Teeth gritted, she ground the words out. Annunciating each and every syllable so as not to be mistaken. "You didn't. Hurt me. You never. Hurt me. You could never hurt me, unless," she reached down and gripped the ends of the rope in each hand and held them up to him.

Her eyes flashed as they raised to meet his own and the breath was stolen from him.

KoKoa's blue eyes, so like her father's, were nothing like at all like his, now, as she sat, looking at him, into him and seeing him as no one had ever done before. They were startling and clear, glassy with tears, ferocious in their integrity, near too brilliant to remain locked on, but he could not tear his gaze away.

They were both familiar and completely new. He was home and scattered to the horizon of all possibilities. Enthralled, flayed and laid bare. Open and helpless to her judgement. Free.

He trembled and was speechless. Lost. Discovered. Rescued and pulled to shore. Home.

"If I lost you, now . . ." Her entire body quaked before it went still again. "Don't you ever –"

He shook his head.

"Ever again."

He nodded.

"Promise me."

His mouth worked, only air came out. What could he say? What vow could he make that he wouldn't someday inevitably break?

"Raphael, if you love me - promise me."

He froze, and whispered immediately, vowing with all the strength that remained within his ancient heart, "I promise."

KoKoa dropped the rope ends and lurched forward. He caught her in his arms and buried his face into her neck. His jacket fell away. The two of them rocked and shook where they sat, embraced in each other's arms, sheltered by the fragile, impossible hope – a small, thin chance - one taken only by the very innocent and the very broken.

A chance at happiness. A chance at love.

Shaken, Mikey sat back. He wiped at his eyes. He glanced away, giving his brother a semblance of privacy. He started, did a double take and blinked hard.

For a heart-stopping instant, he thought he saw his deceased brother, Leonardo, there, real as his own heartbeat hammering against his ribs, sitting next to him.

Smiling softly with Karai's arm draped around him, her head resting on his shoulder. Leo's gaze swept to meet Mikey's. Real as his heartbeat stopping in his chest.

Mikey gaped. He felt the world dip. A roller coaster tip and roll, making his heart race and his stomach flip. A bubble of laughter, something like relief, escaped from his lips.

The illusion or vision of his brother and his sister-in-law vanished.

The sound of his uneasy reaction echoed softly against the sound of the waves below, but loud enough to startled and interrupt Raphael and KoKoa from murmuring to one another all the promises that lovers, on the brink of losing one another only to find themselves right back where they belong, exchange.

They released each other, turned and looked at him, both blinking away tears, faces puffy from crying and Raph's from the beating he withstood, each with a searching expression. An unasked question. One that felt like seeking permission or absolution. Or both.

Bolstered by the strange apparition, the odd sense of divine sanction, of authority granted tingling across his bare flesh, Mikey said, an unsteady smile growing on his face, "It's okay. It's good."

He nodded and sniffed. Feeling better by the second. Relieved and something like happy, near-giddy.

"Yeah. KoKo . . . Raph," he looked at each of them in turn. "I think . . . it's going to be okay."

A/N: Thank you for taking this ride with me. A long one in the making, but I hope, one that was worth taking.

This story became something more personal to me than I ever imagined. I thank you with all my heart for all the support and especially your patience.

There may be an epilogue to this, may not...I'm sort of a sucker for them, so don't be surprised if I give you one last glimpse into this world before I say goodbye.

One last note: Remember that the stealthy stories fanfiction competition is getting under way - I believe the date for nominations to be turned in is Feb 10th, but all the info is on the website. This story would not be eligible due to adult content, but that's okay. :) There's a ton of wonderful stories out there that deserve the attention! Please consider participating!