Greg stared at the city lights almost hypnotically, as he swallowed another mouthful from his bottle. He felt the familiar burn all the way down, and relished the following buzz so much that he had to go for another. It had been too long. Something in the back of his mind was warning him not to overdo it, but he wasn't interested in listening to the voice.

Greg had kept the Asian woman on the phone a little longer in the hope of talking some sense into her. The only thing Sayuri had done was further convince him of the dire trouble she was in. After the conversation ended in utter failure and confusion, he'd slipped unnoticed out of the Den. It wasn't difficult to escape - the others were either eating or otherwise occupied. He left his keys behind so that Brandon could use his Jeep to get home, and his phone sitting on the chair so that they wouldn't be able to track him for once.

Greg had wandered for several blocks on the surface, before stopping at a convenience store to pick up an "old friend". He spent another hour walking the streets aimlessly, until the paper-covered bottle he was carrying under his arm felt like a burning brand he couldn't resist anymore. He caught a cab to get back to his building, on the off chance that the coast was finally clear.

Despite the fact that the building looked quiet, he didn't feel like being shut inside the apartment. Greg scaled the fire escape instead, and yanked his way onto the roof of the building in a fashion he'd done with Raphael several times. That was how he came to be contemplating the city heights a little dizzily, after downing a third of the bottle.

Greg was sick to his stomach, but he knew that the alcohol wasn't the culprit. It couldn't have been helping matters, but he'd been tied up in knots a long time before he'd started drinking. His head was spinning from the conversation with Sayuri, and the certainty that she was planning on taking action against the Akiudo completely unaided. His fist slammed into the concrete ledge. Greg didn't notice if it hurt, and he probably wouldn't have cared if he had.

This is insane, she's insane! It's too big for one person; they're too powerful!

Greg swore under his breath, but didn't even shiver as the wind picked up again.

Why does she have to be so stubborn? This isn't just her fight! We almost lost everything because of them too. Her need for vengeance is finally driving her over the edge. It isn't worth it, not if it means losing her life!

Greg paused in his mental tirade long enough to swallow through another burn, and shook his head in a way that made him regret it.

I can't really be the only person that believes she's innocent, can I? Surely there's someone on her side, someone to stand up for her over there!

But her tone tonight had sounded resolved, as if she were really resigned to her fate.

She doesn't even believe she can make this work, and yet on she goes. What's the point in throwing everything away?

Greg silenced himself once more, but ignored the bottle this time.

She didn't ask for this, Heffernan; she's been backed into a corner. How can you expect her to give up without even fighting for her life?

Greg closed his eyes briefly.

What's the point in fighting a battle you know you can't win?

An uncomfortable burden of responsibility had been weighing down his shoulders, driving his feet forward for miles on the city sidewalks.

I've been her partner through all this research, and now she doesn't want me involved? It's too late for that!

She doesn't want your help, he reminded himself. Sayuri doesn't want you to have anything else to do with it. You're free to walk. There's no evidence against you, nothing tying you to these schemes she's been set up for. The authorities can't even hold you. They don't have the first clue what you were working on.

But I know, Greg responded. I know more about her activities in this last year than her own people do. Maybe enough that I could...

The thought trailed off without finishing. Chasing her was what he'd been contemplating all night; it was the thought that was making him go out of his mind. Greg rested his forehead in both hands, heedless of how cold his skin felt. The action of running after Sayuri wasn't the main source of his agony, but how the decision would affect the entire family.

Greg's choice to help Sayuri wouldn't be his own burden to carry. Once they caught wind of it, the guys would never allow him to go alone, especially if it meant facing the Akiudo. The repetition of the gang's cursed name in his head required him to take another pull from the bottle, longer than the others.

The timing was wrong; it couldn't have been worse. Donny hadn't recovered from the accident. Karina had to be getting close to having the baby.

And here I am, contemplating how long it could take to chart the flight to Okinawa. I can't do this to them, he thought fiercely. She's not their responsibility, and she doesn't even want our help!

Greg rocked slightly on his perch, without ever letting go of the bottle.

I can't do this to them, but I can't do it without them either. I'm not a ninja, or even a hacker.

He had the distinct urge to throw up, but willfully forced it down.

I can't act like this is Sayuri's fault either, as if she brought it upon herself? She's trying to do the right thing, and getting lambasted for it! It isn't fair!

Greg felt like he was trapped in the helpless web of contemplation, where all roads only pointed in the direction of following her. He shifted positions and tried to rise, only to stumble back down to the flat rooftop. It wasn't worth trying to get up again. He couldn't take the thoughts anymore, accusing him of either abandoning his friend, or endangering the ones who'd become his family.

I'm screwed either way, no matter what I do. I could try and leave without telling anyone, but the likelihood of finding her without the use of Donny's expertise to get me in where I need to go...It seems like it would be a wasted effort. And I don't know that I'm ready to cut everyone off that way, without so much as a word. If anyone else tried that, I'd be the first in line to kick their tail. Well, after Raph and a few of the others maybe.

Greg felt around on the ground, and discovered that his bottle hadn't overturned in that fall.

That was lucky at least.

He curled his knees against his chest, and sighed noisily. There was no easy answer to this. He was just going for the last sip of the bottle, when a hand falling on his back nearly startled him out of his mind. Greg tried to spin around, but that only left him feeling dizzier.

"Heff, what are you doing?" Raphael's gruff voice cut through his consciousness. "Everybody is out searching for you!"

"I don't need a babysitter," he snapped, angrily jerking his shoulder away from the turtle.

Raphael kicked at the bottle he'd finally released, and reached down to scoop it off the roof-top. "You went through a whole fifth? You said you quit drinking, Heff!"

"Don't act like my mother," Greg muttered, some of the words running together. An uncontrollable laugh suddenly exploded from his chest. "Actually, my Mom would be cheering me on. 'Atta boy, I knew you had it in you!'."

"Okay, big man, you've had more than enough," Raphael said darkly. "Time to get down from here."

"You go - I'm cool. I'm gonna finish it."

"It's already gone. You gotta stash hidden up here or something?"

Greg reached out unsteadily to trace the glass bottle that was still in the turtle's hand. "That's so sad," he murmured, without even knowing why.

"Heff, c'mon," Raphael said more insistently. "Let's get down to your apartment, and we can talk there."

"I've talked all night, I never stopped talking. Won't let me rest." Greg didn't have enough coordination to even resist the turtle's advances, and Raphael got both arms around his mid-section to lift him to his feet.

"Holy shell, you're freezing! How long have you been out here?"

"Forever," he slurred as the rooftop moved under his feet. "Doesn't matter. I need my drink."

Raphael didn't bother answering him that time. "Can I trust you not to struggle on me, Heff, or am I gonna have to restrain you to get down from here?"

Greg tried to get his own feet planted underneath him, swaying heavily against Raphael before he could catch himself. The arms around him tightened as he lost sight of the turtle, and finally passed out.


Part of Raphael was actually relieved when the man went down; he was certainly easier to deal with in that condition. He'd found the man; now all he needed to do was find out what could have triggered him to run off on a drinking binge. Greg had been upset about the accusations against both him and his Japanese friend, but it seemed like he was starting to calm down, only for him to lead them off on a merry chase?

The red-masked turtle carefully descended over the edge to the fire escape with a firm grip on his friend, and dropped to the correct balcony. Brandon was inside the apartment already, and looked absolutely stunned when Raphael entered through the unlocked door with Greg in his arms.

"Oh my God! What's wrong with him? Where did you find him?"

"He passed out on me, Bran. He was on the roof, finishing off a fifth of Jack. Has he been drinking like this regularly?"

Brandon looked bewildered. "No, Raph, I've never even seen him with a beer. You're sure he was drinking?"

"I know a drunk guy when I see one, Brandon, it kind of comes with the territory." Raphael put him down on the couch, brow furrowing in anxiety. "He's really cold though, I don't know how long he'd been out there. We gotta contact the others, and get Doc over here I guess."

"Get on the phone, Raph, I'm going to grab some blankets!"

Raphael lowered into the chair adjacent to the couch, while the man raced down the hallway to a small linen closet. The turtle tapped out a text message, and hit the button to send the alert to everyone's phone at once.

He scowled as he fixed Greg with another glare. There. Done. Now everyone can stop searching for you like crazy people.

Raphael looked up as Brandon returned with an armload of blankets, and the man gave him a strange look. The turtle held up his phone toward him. "Mass text, Brandon - it's faster."

"Then why didn't I get-" Brandon was interrupted by the alert tone on his phone, and quickly glanced down. "Never mind," he muttered, and went to work layering blankets over Greg as tightly as he could. "Did he say anything to you, Raph? Such as why the heck he ran off like that?"

"He wasn't making a bit of sense, Brandon. I think all of that is going to have to wait for him to sober up."