Disclaimer: TMNT does not belong to me.

A/N: Okay, some weeks ago, Vacant Houses challenged me to a duel to see who could mess the other's preferred character the most: hers being Raphael. Meh-heh-heh. Everything else has been building to this, so this is my official "submission" to the challenge. About as crazy as I can go within the limits of this story. Warning: there is some blood and ugliness in this chapter.

Where the Lights Dance

Rough hands twisted, grinding his wrist against the steel cuff until his knuckles tapped against the tabletop. The Foot adjusted the arm, exposing it to the room. Raphael's fingers closed, raising his bicep in a threat. It had atrophied over the past weeks, but still gave the soldier pause.

He looked up through the meshed fabric of his mask to meet the prisoner's savage glare. Shoulders bounced with a silent scoff before he wrapped a thin cord across the dark skin. The tourniquet bit into Raphael's muscle with a sharp tug, digging beneath the curve of his flesh. Staring stoically into the fierce gaze, the man moved around the table, out of sight. A sturdy leather collar bound to the steel frame prevented Raph from following his steps beyond the range of his peripherals.

Here he was after waking up to find himself in a new room. Again. Sluggish and lightheaded. Again. Lashed down. Again. Waiting to see whatever Karai had pulled out of that sick head of hers with absolutely nothing he could do about.

Again.

He hated predictability.

He also hated the routine which his life had found. No longer structured around meals or training or TV schedules, his quality time with himself was interrupted only for the nightly rounds of punishment. By the time he stumbled back into his room, his cooling bowl of gruel and water bottle were waiting for him. He'd also been provided a bucket in the corner now that his body was processing nutrients again. This was also freshly changed before his return, but it was a small comfort. As if trying to use a makeshift toilet wasn't humiliating enough, he also had to cram himself into the corner beneath the camera while making the attempt. And nothing is so distracting than a constant whirring above your head as a camera tried to adjust to keep an on you.

What idiot had to spend his time trying to joystick a camera around to peep on a turtle using a bucket? What a sucky job. He should put in for a transfer.

Then, there was the new absence of Karai. After her initial introductions to his treatments, as she liked to call them, she had vanished. The Foot who were left to carry out the endless routine with him said nothing. No more insults, no more threats. They just watched him, impassively, as he fought with them, was fried by them, or sat in their nasty little movie theater. The only spoken words passed were the emotionless charges of his family's crimes. And those were repeated to the point that he began to hear them in his cell as he tried to sleep or choke down his dinner.

Monotony, isn't it a kick in the head?

Donnie, Mikey, Leo…Mikey, Leo, Donnie…Leo, Donnie, Mikey…Over and over for hours, his head would run through endless lines of thievery, murder, arson, treachery, espionage. All graciously accompanied by the flickering images of their past fights he had to watch every night.

He pulled at his cuffs with a low growl.

Easy…

Oh, he forgot to mention the recently acquired commentary hosted by his brothers who weren't there.

"I got it, Fearless," he muttered.

The stern voice didn't miss a beat. Just keep your head, Raph. Try to prepare yourself for whatever is coming…

"I got it, Leo," he snarled beneath his breath. "She ain't breakin' me. Ya need me ta pinky swear on it?" He swore he could hear the long suffering sigh his brother would have given for that.

Ignoring Leo, Raph arched and strained against the collar to get a better look at the room. It wasn't much. A whitewashed storage room, maybe, heavily soaked in disinfectant. A door was directly before him, accompanied by a squat black window where he could see his withering reflection. He snorted at that and listened to the movement behind him. It sounded like the Foot was rummaging about a box of dentist tools. Every now and again, metal dropped against metal as he arranged…whatever it was he was arranging.

Oh, boy, a lab at last, Mikey chuckled somewhere behind his ear. This bodes well. Feeling at home yet, Don?

Actually, I prefer fluorescent lighting…

Raph glanced up at the gymnasium style lights and wondered why. Then he caught himself and sighed. Donnie, the real Donnie, probably didn't give a crap one way or the other about fluorescents. He hated getting dragged into these imaginary conversations…hated it more that it was happening frequently these days.

But you got it all together, Leo said snidely. Raph's lip lifted against the thought.

A sharp pinch bit into his elbow, followed by a rush of heat filling the joint.

Raph's eyes flew open. The emptied syringe pulled free of him, leaving a drop of amber liquid near the injection mark. Raph scowled at the lingering bite. "Ya frickin' trained how ta do that? Ya suck at it, pal!"

What was it? Leo demanded. Raph watched the man, expectantly, before realizing he hadn't heard his brother. He repeated the question.

"Something to take the edge off," the man said, thinly. "Karai's orders."

Raph started to have received an answer. "Take the edge off what? Where is she?"

The man carefully capped the needle. "She won't be attending tonight."

"Ehh?" Raph's brows met in confusion.

"Don't worry. In about two minutes, it really won't matter to you." He turned for the exit. The window wavered a bit as the door opened and closed.

"'Ey! Get back here! Whaddya…wha…oh, shhh -" His eyes rolled as the world tilted on him. He slumped back against the table with his head light and empty. The black window shifted, becoming soft and then smearing counterclockwise. Black lines, like trailing finger marks, sliced against the white wall. The reflections were pulled inward and rolled along the thick and oily surface.

Raph shook his head and tried to force it back into what a window should look like…it just didn't listen. He tilted his neck back as the collar allowed, trying to quell the dizziness that came from watching the waves of color.

Ten minutes, or an eternity for all he cared, he lay placid, watching as tiny jets of rainbows circled about the light fixtures. His finger slowly rotated one way, then back the other as if he could orchestrate the movement. He hummed nonsense tunes to himself, pulled into the light show with a slight smile. They were hypnotic in a way, almost like watching snowflakes sweeping over a windshield.

His inner ear twitched as the door opened again. Slower footfalls drew near to him and his eyes rolled closed. "'Ey, Karai…"

"Didn't they tell you she wasn't coming?"

Raphael's attention snapped from the ceiling so fast the room spun about the face which was suddenly before him. "D-Donnie?"

His brother's mouth broke into a wide smile. "Hey, bro. How's it going?"

Raph blinked, sluggishly, and strained his ears for the voices of his brothers. He waited for Leo to do something. To approve or warn him against the sudden appearance. For his Donnie to suggest why he would drop out of the sky like this. But the voices were strangely silent. A tingle of uneasiness shifted through him that he hadn't noticed their absence…

But it didn't matter, right? Because Don was there in front of him. And they were the same, right? His body leaned forward, held up only by his bindings. His head felt like it was trudging through mud. He couldn't hang onto a single thought for more than a few seconds before it shot away.

"Raphael?"

"'Bought time ya got here," he muttered at last. "Ge' me down, brainiac."

Donatello remained where he stood, biting his finger as if he had a secret he knew Raph didn't want to hear. A small grin touched his mouth.

Raph frowned. "W-what? Untie me, Don…"

His brother sucked a breath as he shook his head. "Yeah, I don't think that is going to happen."

"Wha'?"

"I'm kinda here…on Karai's orders. Ah!" He snapped his fingers. "Excuse me, Mistress Karai's orders. I always do that…"

Shock spiked through the larger turtle as he gaped at his brother. It was hard though. The bright lights didn't seem to strike him properly. The shadows across his skin didn't match the rest of the room. Raph's eyes kept sliding away from him, too, as if unable to stay in place long enough to process the problem.

His words, however, burned through the prisoner's mind. "What did you call her?"

"Mistress," Don said, almost fondly, dropping his gaze to Raph's shoulder with a nostalgic smile. Revulsion crawled across the other's skin at the look. Raphael glanced to the door as worry laced along his stomach.

"Don…where's Leo?"

His brother looked up, annoyed. "He's fine. He stayed home. So it's just me tonight. But don't worry, big guy, I'm going to take care of you."

Big guy? Donnie meandered behind the table and a second later, Raphael squinted against the grating rattle of metal on metal. His younger brother swung a silver stand around before him, rolling dozens of thin tools over the tray. He began to shuffle through them, lifting each to be inspected before letting them fall with piercing clangs. Raph swallowed, thickly, as a wicked hook glinted an inch from his brother's nose. Don sighed and tossed it down.

"Donnie…" he tried again. "Don, w-what did she do? W-w-why ya doin'…this?"

Light brown eyes shot to him, still gleaming with amused knowledge. He lifted his brow and opened his hands as if the answer should have been obvious. "The pay is good?"

"D-does Masta know yer here…?"

Donatello straightened, running his thumb against the edge of a scalpel. "There we go. Simplicity is always the best choice, isn't it? And would a yes or a no be better to answer your question?" He smiled and set his hand beside Raph's cheek, leaning his weight closer. "Because it's not really a question about me at all, is it?" He grinned and dropped his head with a snorted laugh when Raph winced. "No, he doesn't know I'm here. He certainly doesn't know that you're here with me. So, sorry, no heart-filled messages brought in from the homestead, buddy."

"Don…"

He started as his brother's knuckle sudden rapped into his mouth, knocking his lower lip into his teeth. "Tush it, Raphael. I'm trying to work here." The scalpel spun in his fingers and he tapped a dotted line across Raph's forehead. "Nah, there's too many important things in there." The blade hooked beneath the emerald chin and lightly traced along the throat. "Nooo, that's gonna be way too messy. Where, oh where, should we go?" He drew back to tap the butt of the tool against his own teeth. "Actually…"

Raphael roared as the scalpel was driven into his side, bucking back the table as he tried to escape the assault. It slipped clean between two ribs and then twisted violently. Heat pulsed across his stomach and up his chest. The steel was ripped clear with a spurt of blood. Raph curled around the wound as best as he could with another cry. He looked up, horror-struck, and saw that Donnie was flickering before him. Just beneath his savage grin was bright red hair, thick-rimmed glasses, and a face filled with a mean streak Donatello had never possessed. Then the image cleared itself and Raph was left to the sadistic fascination which mocked his brother's face.

He swore between clenched teeth as pain rocked him again and a sharp punch caught him full in the cheek. It shook his skull as he could not turn with the hit and Raph's world went hazy for a moment. By the time everything locked back into focus, Donnie was wagging a finger in his face.

"Course language has no place in a laboratory, Raphael." He peered at the wound and the dark blood gliding towards Raph's knee. "Yikes. But that does look painful." His fingers pried into the gash, pulling it wider.

Raph let out a muffled moan and twisted away from the new flash of pain. "Don't, Donnie!"

Don wrinkled his beak and rose, gracefully. "I'm only trying to help, buddy. Come on, this was an acceptable medical treatment back in the old days. The brightest minds of the time thought any ailment could be cured if they could just drain enough blood out of the system. You could go back farther to the time they thought mental diseases were caused by evil spirits. They'd crack the skull of the patient open to allow an escape route for the spirit. I mean, they've found skeletons that show where that treatment was executed several times." He wiped his bloodied fingers over Raph's shoulder. "Now, isn't that just barbaric?

"Myself, though," he continued, returning to the tray. "I prefer more modern techniques at getting to the core of the problem. The power of suggestion, for example. You familiar with that?"

Raph glared at him.

"No? Well, let me tell you what a wonder the brain is. Given even a few details, the brain will fill in the gaps to explain what is occurring in the present environment. Why do you think dreams go so crazy? One minute you're chilling on a beach in Maui, the next you're hiding in a closet from a maniac. Insane and as illogical as a scenario may be, if you believe what you see is real, wouldn't you agree that there is some validity in the experience? I mean, you are feeling the world around you at the time, thinking of ways to escape the danger, wondering why your brother would stab you with a scalpel…"

Raphael stared at him, baffled at where he was headed with all of this. His hand strained against the cuff, fighting to cling to the fiery wound.

Donnie shrugged. "Well, anyway, I spoke with Karai and let her know that she's been going about this process all wrong. See, she could throw her thugs at you all she wants, but they ain't getting over those walls of yours, are they, Raphael? Do you know why? Because they are a viable enemy that has to be denied. They give you a task, a goal to resist them. And then are suprised to find you, a trained warrior, are immune to frontal attacks." He shook his head. "No. The trick to bringing down anyone's stronghold, is to get under the wall, get an enemy among the ranks. That is when you can do some serious damage."

"Whadd'ya…talkin' 'bout…?"

Don sighed and reached beneath the silver tray. He pulled out an empty jar and faced off with the prisoner. "You have to get under the skin, Raphael. Just a few layers, and everyone will be shocked to see how quickly things unravel." He lifted the jar before the other's nose.

Raph's gaze fell to it and everything within him tightened with fear. It wasn't empty at all. A massive beetle was arched against the glass, four of its legs waving wildly for a hold. Ugly pinchers snapped towards the lid. Raphael jerked, digging his heels into the footrest of the table and straining back against the collar.

"Something the matter?" Don asked, jovially, tapping his fingers off the lid.

"What is tha'…?"

"You tell me, Raphael."

He looked up at the calm face, desperately. "Don…y'ain't puttin' that thing on me…"

Don gave his brother a wink. "You are absolutely right, bro. I would never dream of it." He shifted his weight, strolling back around to the wound. "But you know how insects are still used to treat patients these days? Maggots to eat away rot, leeches to drain blood. This little guy can be useful too. He's gonna help us get to that core of yours just a bit faster."

The freaking thing seemed to double in size right before him. Raph snapped his eyes shut just to rid himself of it. But he could still see the bluish tint on its black shell, the ugly joints of its segmented legs, even the saw-like ridges lining its mandibles. He shuddered and returned to the light with a gasp.

Don was still at his side. Still smiling. "Curious to see how he'll do it?"

"Donnie…please…"

The scientist dropped to his haunches and unscrewed the lid. "Hang on a little longer, big guy." Raph flinched as the jar's cold lip cupped around the throbbing gash. Then, his eyes flew wide when the realization struck him.

"No! No, Donnie, don't!"

"Easy," the other scolded as he pressed the jar firmly to his side.

Raphael watched, frozen with terror, as evil pinchers touched the wound. Shoving aside torn skin, the beetle seemed to flatten, and the pushed itself into the gash. Raph let out a choked noise through his nose. One that was part terror, the other pure disbelief that this was happening to him. Then something skittered upward, moving between his muscle and skin, and every handle he had on the situation was torn from him.

He screamed, arching against his bindings. His world turned upside down as Don shoved the table backwards. It bounced as it stretched out, horizontally, slamming him against the steel. The bug shifted inside him again and he writhed.

Another bellow worked its way up his chest, but was stifled as a cold hand clamped across his mouth. Donnie lunged onto the table with a whoop, straddling his brother about the middle. His right knee rested in the growing pool of the blood. He leaned forward, propping his elbows on Raphael's plastron as he shoved his face before the other's beak.

"Breathe," he said, reasonably. "Shh. Shh. Just breathe."

Raph fought against that hand, trying to see the door. He prayed for Leo to come storming in, or their father, or Casey, hell, he'd take Karai if she would just stop this nightmare.

"Told you the mind is a funny thing," Donnie grinned. Raph's shoulders jerked and the locks to his cuffs bounced, threateningly. Don didn't seem to notice. "You see, it is never a matter of outside force. It's a matter of bringing reality into question. Questioning your senses. What can you trust, Raphael? Who can you believe? Do you believe me? Have I ever lied to you before? You're supposed to be breathing…"

Raph's nostrils fluttered as he sucked in a breath.

Don nodded, approvingly, and pushed himself back, settling more of his weight across Raph's stomach. He reached his free hand to the seeping wound and pressed a finger to the inflammation. Raph's eyes rolled, dazed. Donatello dragged his finger upwards, towards the plastron. Raph clenched his teeth at a detached sensation of something shuffling after that finger.

Was that even possible? He didn't think so…but what did he know, he could feel it! It was an odd feeling, something he knew should have left him in agony. But the pain was ghostly, like it was being blocked by Novocain. He knew he felt it, he knew he should have felt it far worse, but it was so far away.

"After a while, what can't be brought into doubt? What sacred truth can be left unsullied when all the other ones fail you? What can't my Mistress take from you? What reason could you possibly have left to defend with all these walls?"

Air chugged erratically past olive green skin.

"Would you ever believe that your precious Donatello was capable of doing this to you? That Leonardo would leave you to die here? That there is no one in the outside world who will put in the effort to save you? It's a very messy situation, Raphael. Very easy to lose your grip, wouldn't you agree?"

Gold eyes bore into brown, no longer defiant, but pleading and frightened.

Don's finger traced to the line between Raphael's chest plates. Keeping it centered between the two, Don threw his weight over the side of the table, stepping down and removing his hand from the slack mouth. He smiled and adjusted a set of black glasses higher on his beak. Raph stared up at him, tiny hitches of breath passing through his teeth.

Donatello cocked his head, mischievously. "That, dear brother, is called planting a seed."

He tapped Raph's chest.

The thing beneath his finger began to burrow.

A gutteral roar tore from his throat. Raphael thrashed, smearing blood across the table. His hands hooked into claws, trembling with the force to try and raise them. Donatello stood above him with all the cruel fascination of someone watching an ant burn beneath a magnifying glass. He stepped back with a satisfied smile, folded his arms, and looked to the black window.

Karai ran her fingers along her lower lip as she watched Dr. Chaplin move away from the table. He shot her a grin, folding his arms and lifting his chin, proudly. She scowled a bit at that and returned her attention to the convulsing prisoner.

"Raphael Hamato," she whispered to the dark room. "You are found guilty of lying, hijacking, vandalism, and assault upon my employees. As such, the punishment you will be subjected to for your own actions…" She paused and gave a small smile, "will undo you."

* Kind of also a shout-out to Sam Riegel, who voiced both Donnie and Chaplin in the 2003 series. A very, very weird shout-out.

* Reviews, please? Also any thoughts, concerns, exclamations…brochures to local mental institutions, I'll take 'em all!