Chapter 10

A/n: Jumping through timelines and periods of dream/waking world here. Sorry for any confusion. The last two cutscenes are present. I'll label it so.

Guh. The next chapter will be less flashbacky. To say I've had issues with writers block with this story for years is an understatement. :p I have one of the last important scenes written out, but everything else in between is floating somewhere in my head.

Enjoy.

Sleet pelted from above, relentlessly burning his skin with the cold. He could handle the pain for the numbness soon approaching. To be unable to feel the boundaries of his body and the real world was a treat, made him able to separate himself from reality.

He didn't enjoy it, though. He enjoyed nothing, nowadays. The disconnect from reality was simply a balm for the wounds he had; it took the edge off the pain, but never removed it. It allowed him to slip away for a few, but it was never long enough.

Leo was here. He could feel him pressing on the air around him, the familiar presence like an itch. Resentment licked a hot line up his neck to the base of his skull, causing him to shiver. Anger stirred all too familiar in his chest, lapping at the edges of his consciousness. It was a raw feeling, something he was tired of, and yet he could not bring himself to feel otherwise.

"You're going to make yourself sick."

The voice floated from darkness, seemingly all around him, but Raph knew his brother to be crouched down to his left. The words played a familiar melody as Leonardo chastised his brother, which was insulting in its own way. All the more infuriating was Leo's lack of sternness. The katana-wielder was genuinely concerned for his brother, and he was making no attempt to hide it.

"I'm already sick. Isn't that why you're here? To take care of the invalid?" Oh, he was so numb. He could hear himself from far away, the deep bass-tenor of his voice.

He hated that fucking voice.

Slipping in to view, Leonardo cautiously approached him. He was being so un-Leo, so reasonable. "I know you hate it when I follow you. But you left before I could even try to stop you. I just… I think we should talk, Raph. I know I'm not Splinter, but just talk to me. Tell me what you're thinking."

"Why, so you can judge what I'm saying and tell me how wrong I am?" The words whipped back effortlessly, as though rehearsed. Maybe they were. Maybe he'd had this conversation before. He didn't care to try to recall it.

"I don't have the slightest right to judge you." Well. What an interest-piquing statement to make. Leo, of all people… "I don't want to. I just want to understand you. You said I can't help you, but you didn't say why."

Those words burned, were acidic. They were insulting. Spoken as though to a two year old, as though Leonardo walked on eggshells. What was he so worried about?

Who the fuck did he think he was talking to?

"I'm a killer." Still rehearsed, but unbidden. A ready answer, a sentence he had repeated to himself over and over again. But he had never had an audience before, not for this line. He turned his eyes down so he didn't have to see his brother's face.

Why did he feel guilty?

"Who did you kill?"

"My family. Some of them. I'll kill them all, eventually. I'm pretty fucked up like that."

"Who?"

"Splinter," He said, "Casey."

"How did you kill them?"

He turned quickly, harsh winds whipping his bandana tails to the left. "I left them to die."

"I need to see Casey!"

"You can't see Casey!"

"Why?" The was a wild gleam in his eyes shining through a thin film of tears. "Why, because I killed him, too?"

Heart beating loud enough to be heard in his ears, Don moved closer his brother. Leaning slowly to eye level, he inhaled to speak, determined to keep his voice steady.

The thought of being this close to Raphael in this state caused worry to flutter in his chest. He was unarmed. He could get hurt, but Raph needed him. "No, Raph. You didn't kill him. You didn't kill anybody."

"You didn't see."

"Raph, Leo saw! Leo saw, and he knows. He wouldn't lie about something like that. He wouldn't make it up to make you feel better. He knows you wouldn't want that."

In a flash the window of opportunity was gone, and Raph tilted his head back to laugh. The maniacal sound had the pacifist turtle backing a pace, ready in case his brother lunged. "Leo never cares about what we want. He only does what he thinks we want, because it's what he wants."

Don swallowed thickly. "He's just frightened, but he won't admit it. Please, Raph… We all are."

"Fuck you. Fuck all of you. Leave me alone."

"Come on Raph, don't!" Don reached out to touch his brother's shoulder, only to have his hand violently swatted away.

"Don't touch me!" Fully awake now, Raphael propped himself up in his hammock. "What the hell is wrong with you? Get the fuck out!"

Mike had counted the minutes of silence following Raphael's last howl of rage. Four minutes, he figured, would be just enough time to know that Don had gotten the needle in.

His door slid back easily on well-oiled hinges, and not wanting to be a complete jackass he turned sharply toward Raph's room. Leo was outside, leaning against the balcony with a bloodied rag to his face. He didn't take his eyes from the bedroom door as Don slid it open, holding a used needle in his hand.

He didn't look at Mike, either. "That should hold him over for a while. He's sleeping for now."

"We can't keep doing this. There's got to be something else we can do."

Shrugging helplessly, Don sighed. "I don't know what else we could do, Leo. When he gets like that, he either hurts himself or someone else."

"You'd think he'd wisen up to the fact that every time he gets like that, he gets a shot," Mike finally spat. Both of his brothers turned to look at him, wearing expressions completely opposite of the emotional spectrum.

Leo, angry, started to speak when Don interrupted, "Mike, he's cracked. It's… I think it's sort of a defensive thing. There are different levels of panic-"

"Don, I didn't want a frig-"

"-No, look. All I'm saying is, there are different levels of panic, and the more anxiety that someone tends to feel, the less controllable they are."

"So maybe we need to put him on a pill or something," Leo said.

"If you think you could get him to take anything other than sleeping medicine, be my guest." Crossing his arms, Donnie looked thoughtful. "Not to mention just getting my hands on it is going to be a pain…"

Mikey chuckled to himself, turning his back on this brothers and walking away. Before he reached his room again, he shot over his shoulder, "Why don't you just put his medicine in a bottle and label it as sleeping pills?"

(Present)

With her head in her hands, April didn't even know somebody else was in the room with her until she heard the faucet go on. To her credit, she didn't jump completely out of her skin.

Mike tossed an apologetic glance over his shoulder. "Sorry," he murmured, setting the tea kettle down on the rusted coils of the old stove. Fumbling with the controls, he had to re-light it twice before the flame caught. April was starting to associate the faint smell of gas with this particular room in the lair.

"When I redo the kitchen, you can have mine," she said.

He looked at her questioningly, and she pointed one slender finger at the fossil of a kitchen appliance. Expression smoothing out with understanding, he said, "Don't rush it, Ape. Don won't let us go up in flames. I mean, we're lucky enough to have one."

Grabbing two mugs and tea bags, he places the two on the table before sliding in to the chair opposite her. "Don't you wana sell it, anyway? For a little extra cash? We could always go scope one out in the junkyard, if it really came to that."

"Mike, if I was that low on money, I wouldn't bother renovating."

"Well… true enough, I guess."

She took the chipped mug in her hands, pulling it toward her to examine the stains within. She almost smiled. Obviously Donnie had used this particular vessel on more than one occasion, judging by the stains. She idly wondered to herself just how strongly one had to brew their coffee in order to reach the darker hue ringing the very bottom of the cup.

"You want some medicine or something?"

Blinking, she brought her gaze back up to Michelangelo. "You looked like you might have a headache. When I first came in."

"No, I'm fine."

He got up to retrieve the kettle, approaching the table with steam piping from the spout. "Okay," He said as he poured her mug, "whatever you say."

"Thanks," She murmured, wrapping her fingers around her drink and enjoying the warmth. "Hey, Mike?"

"Mm?"

"You look kindof upset. Are you okay?"

He huffed out a short, humorless laugh. "Are any of us these days?" He lifted the mug to his lips, looking at her over the rim for her response. She stared back evenly.

He swallowed the scalding liquid uncomfortably and sighed. "I'm not. But I haven't been. You talk to Don. I'm sure you know all about it."

"Don doesn't come over to spill all your secrets, you know," she chastised, "I ask because I'm concerned. You don't think I should be?"

"I think you're right to stay topside away from all this crap."

His stomach dropped immediately as her eyebrows knitted together. "I'm not avoiding you guys. I just-"

"No, no. Sorry, I didn't mean that. I know you're working and stuff." At her expression, he lifted his hands in a placating gesture. "I'm not being sarcastic, Ape! You put like half the food on our table. That was shitty of me. I'm sorry."

She was wracking her brain for a response when a guttural roar interrupted any thoughts.

"Frig!" Mike was out of the room before she could fully react.

"They're dead!"

"Mike, Leo! Get me the Haldol!"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck fuckfrrrr!"

"Raph, stop. Just sit down. Just calm-" Don cut himself off as he dropped to the floor, an old lamp whistling ahead and announcing its connection to the wall with the sound of splintering porcelain.

Growling to himself, Don watched the rampage for a few seconds longer before hoisting himself to his feet, charging Raph's turned shell. They both fell to the ground, the considerably stronger sai-weilder wreathing beneath his brother.

"Mike!" Don roared in the seconds before Raph's elbow connected with his beak, "Leo!"

Seconds ticked by too slowly. Raph was screeching loud enough to shake the walls while his brother attempted to hold him still without spilling too much blood. He was on the edge of calling out to the other two turtles again when Leo swept in, shoving a hypodermic needle and small vial in his hand as he took Don's place.

Between the two of them, Don was able to inject the needle in to Raph's thigh, and together they held him until the red-banded turtle first ceased screaming, then fighting, and his breathing finally evened out.

Pulling back with a sigh, Don swiped a hand across his face, which only served to smear the blood more. With a growl, he reached behind him and took a towel from the back of his computer chair, tilting his head forward.

"Finally christened your room with this mess, huh," Leo said without a hint of humor.

"That's not funny."

"Sorry. Wasn't really trying to be." With a grunt, the eldest sat up and surveyed the scene. "Go get cleaned up. I'll get Mike to help with Raph."