"C'mon, James, raise 'em!"

"You'll just hit me again. I thought you were supposed to teach me how to fight, not how to get beaten up."

Raph snorted, "I'm not teaching you how to fight."

James looked dubiously at him, "Don't tell me this has simply been some sort of entertainment for you?"

Raph smirked and came forward, grabbing the chain of the punching back and leaning on it. They'd had a few training sessions ever since Donnie disappeared into his territory with an unconscious Mira. He'd been surprised when James came to him, all stutter and murmuring, admitting to wanting to learn how to fight. Though Raph suspected this guy had barely done anything physical in his life, he felt oddly compelled to teach the kid a few things. Learning to fight properly, like a true warrior of the shadows, took many years and hours of training and starting from scratch wasn't an option. Basic self-defence was something he could teach him, though he knew that against trained soldier, it would do squat.

No, what this kid needed, and in such a short time, was actually something that Raph specifically could provide.

Street fighting.

It was something he leaned on when he was pissed off and facing PD's or any other low-life scum. The controlled fight, where he knew exactly what he was hitting, how much it would hurt and what sort of reaction it would get was all well and good.

But sometimes he just wanted to see the opponent go down the nasty way. It was a great way to relieve tension and it kept the thugs of the streets much more effectively than simply being struck down from the shadows with a single move.

Low-life criminals needed to fear and hurt, so they'd be less inclined to continue their behavior. Waking up without memory of what had happened in a police car wasn't as effective has having them run for their lives and believe they got off lucky.

So basically, Raph was going to teach the biggest nerd, except perhaps for his own brother, to fight dirty.

"It has been fun," Raph admitted, fondly remembering the countless times he'd sent the kid on his ass, "but fighting is a skill and you don't have the time or dedication to master that."

"No, fighting is defined as an attempt to gain power over an adversary by blows or with weapons," James argued. "Bad fighting is still fighting."

Raph shook his head. "No," he drew out, "that's like saying speech and intelligence is the same thing."

"Well, what do you then call me trying to defend myself? I fight back."

"That's.. flailing about," he vaguely waved his hand around. "Not fighting."

James gaped at him, "I think you're the rudest person I've ever met. So if you're not teaching me how to fight, what are we doing?"

Raph stepped back and pointed at him, "I'm teaching you to survive. There's a difference."

James looked at him in disbelief. "You're messing with me, aren't you?"

Raph shook his head, slightly surprised James had managed to pull him into a discussion of words, something Don had been trying to do for years but failed miserably. Raph got his way with his fists. Having to find a solid argument to explain oneself was not his style.

Surprisingly he found himself enjoying talking to James though. Perhaps it was because he, in a way, had the same sort of aura as Donnie. The pacifistic, curious, intellectual type that constantly radiated waves of calmness and peace. He always did get along with Don the best. Maybe it wasn't odd he'd found James' company comforting in a time where Don was needed elsewhere.

"Great," James continued. "I'm a lover, not a fighter – is that it?"

Raph snorted, "I didn't say that. I said, what you're doing isn't fighting. What I'm teaching you isn't fighting. But you might already be a fighter and a warrior. Now, one more time."

James frowned, but launched himself, throwing punches and kicks right and left. Raph simply dodged for a time, as he had a habit of doing, before suddenly retaliating. Throwing the young man on the floor and pinning him down with a knee, Raph nodded, "Better. But your eyes are telling me exactly where you're going to strike. Don't reveal your intentions."

James nodded once. And then he couldn't help himself, "No, I'm sorry, what? You mean, I have potential to be a warrior?"

The turtle got up and jumped a bit from feet to feet to keep moving. "No, you either have it or you don't."

"But you said that you'd get it through years of training?"

Raph frowned at him," Why are you making it so difficult?"

"I'm- It's you- why don't you explain it then?" James sighed exaggerated.

Raph waved a hand at him to come get him and as James attacked and he dodged, he started talking.

"When you fight, you don't just fight with your skills. You fight with something more. Would you fight harder under certain circumstances? Even in situation that doesn't involve an adversary, you can fight."

"Fight what? With what?" James cried, frustrated he wasn't getting any closer to even scratching the turtle. Suddenly, a flip later and he was once again on the ground, being held down with one finger, right above his heart.

"Fight for your life. Your family. Your friends. The World."

Silence followed. James barely breathed as the turtle continued.

"Fighting is not giving up. Fighting is your way to say enough. You're not taking any more of this. It doesn't involve skill or training. It involves," Raph poked James chest harshly, "heart. Will." The turtle almost scowled at the next words but forced them out, "It involves love and family. Fighting is more than throwing a punch. A warrior is more than fighting. A warrior fights for something and that something better be good. The better it is to you, the better a fighter you'll be. If you have that, if you don't give up, then I'd call you a fighter and a warrior. Even if you hit like a girl."

James laughed and took the offered hand up.

"I like that. Even nerds can be warriors."

"Don't push it. Again."

James snapped out of it as Leo yelled at him to watch out. Looking up, he saw a small fighter aircraft pierce through the clouds and heading straight for him. Jerking the controls in surprised, the chopper moved just enough for the laser guns to miss.

"Why aren't we cloaked?!" Leo yelled into the headset, hanging on for dear life to a seat in the back.

"I don't know what's wrong!" he hurriedly pushed the controls forward, in an attempt to build up some speed while watching the screens intently for the hostile flyer. He'd been ordered to pick up Leonardo at the dock and their mission was simple: Get Leo to Malvir.

The plan was sort of working. They were flying the right direction in any case, but the sneak attack idea got screwed along with the cloaking device, which left the distraction that Raph, Mikey and Johnny were providing by the foot of the statue futile.

"Turn back, it isn't working!" Leo yelled, gulping as he looked down though the open side door. He didn't like heights. But heights in a dodging, half working chopper seemed a tad worse than other sort of heights. "We'll think of something else!"

James almost complied, but his gut told him differently. He was aware that they'd never get a chance like this again. They were close and all he needed was to keep them alive for long enough to get Leo off and unto the statue itself. That was all he had to do.

They'd been discussing for too long and the time was for action. For once in his life he wasn't going to think first.

His new red-banded green friend had taught him that. And it seemed to work for him.

"Sorry, Leo! I'm getting you out there!" he yelled back, not sure if the headsets were still working properly, since he hadn't heard Leo through them, but rather the yell over the wind and engine. He had a hunch the normally cool leader was feeling a tad uncomfortable and he felt very sorry what he was about to do.

Leo barely managed to shriek a reply before the chopper lurched violently, narrowly avoiding another attack.

James was leaning determinedly forward in his seat, refusing to lose his courage. He barely noticed when Leo launched himself on the seat beside him. Thinking back to Raphael's words, he started talking,

"We're not giving up! I'm fighting to save this world! I'm fighting for my mom and my new friends and I know you are too!"

The chopper started violently showing danger signs and alarms but James ignored them valiantly.

"I am a fighter because I won't let this guy win," his eyes were getting blurry, knowing that every second could be the moment they'd get hit. He was just flying as wildly as he dared, hoping that they'd last just long enough. He'd never been so scared. "I've had enough and I'm putting a stop to this. I won't give up."

Leo nodded quietly and James barely heard his words, "A warrior."

He smiled ruefully, expecting Leo to understand since he'd had the same upbringing and teachings as his hot-tempered brother. He gained the last strength he needed in Leo's silent approval. Glancing up at a screen, he paled and watched it carefully as he yelled, "It's now! Hurry and jump so I can get out of here!"

Leo looked confused at first and didn't move, and James frantically repeated himself, "You gotta go! Now! Or you'll miss it! If you don't go now, it'll be too hard for me to turn back!"

The ninja turtle nodded and steeled himself for a jump, getting out the seat and patting the young man on the back.

"And Leo?," he yelled, just as Leo was about to plunge. "You show that jerk what real fighting is!"

A confident smirk and a nod later and the turtle leader had left the helicopter. James barely managed to restrain himself from breaking down, half from feeling the relief that he'd managed to do his part successfully and had gotten the job done, and half from the absolute terror he felt from what was about to happened.

He didn't want to die.

But the missile heading his way was closing in and he already knew there was no way to dodge it. He wasn't a pilot. He was a simple techy that had an odd relationship with his computer and had a proud mom for getting a job he couldn't talk out loud about.

He'd agreed to be a part of the team, not having the slightest idea of how big it was all going to be. He didn't think he'd be sacrificing himself. He belonged behind a computer.

He didn't regret a thing, though. His mind had been opened like never before and he'd seen things and made friends that were simply amazing. A lone kid, that had always been bullied, dominated and pushed aside.

He'd finally fought back. He'd finally taken control.

He just hadn't imagined it would come at such a price.

Those were his final thoughts as the heat seeking missile reached its target and the whole aircraft disappeared in a ball of fire.