Raphael stared at the two setting moons while the strange reality of their situation weighed heavily on his mind. They'd arrived at the Ruairis' mountain fortress at least two hours before, but neither he nor Leonardo were ready to sleep.
The red-masked turtle was grateful the aliens had at least taken the hint to leave them alone to reconnect. Leonardo had spent most of the last hour telling him every detail he could recall from his experience with the Elite, right up to meeting the Ruairi and being their captive.
"What's your take on these Ruairi, Leo?" he asked suddenly.
His older brother shook his head. "I'm still not sure, Raph. I'm certain there are a lot of things I don't know about them, and I'm positive that their motivation for helping us doesn't come from pure intentions. That being said, they could have killed me in battle, and they didn't. They don't have to be here right now, but they are. Honestly, it's hard to put faith in anyone given the way things have gone so far."
Raphael snorted under his breath in disgust, staring out at the wilderness. "Yeah, Fearless, you're gonna wanna think things through long and hard before you start getting chummy with anyone." He could feel Leonardo's keen eyes appraising him, but he pretended not to notice.
"Bro…I think you should take it easy on your friend."
"Leave it alone, Leo," he replied tightly. "You don't know Ezra. Neither do I for that matter."
The blue-masked turtle nodded and said nothing more. Raphael focused on the pre-dawn sky, his mind drifting in their silence. Despite being out in the middle of the wilderness, there had been very few visible stars in the sky overnight.
I wouldn't recognize 'em anyway. I don't know what difference it makes. He sighed inwardly as he thought of their "Refuge" in the mountains of North Carolina. The family had only arrived there for a break from the city three days before they'd been unceremoniously abducted.
He remembered his three-year-old Olivia being overwhelmed by the vastness of the stars which couldn't be picked out from inside New York City. The little turtle had stayed up long past her normal bedtime along with him outside. Karina would usually call me out for spoiling her, but even she wasn't gonna put her foot down. We have so little freedom to expose Liv to the real world, that when we get to North Carolina it's like all the rules immediately go out the window.
Imagining the bronze-haired woman made Raphael physically ache. Kari could probably handle Liv on her own better than I could, but she shouldn't have to. If we end up being stuck here, those Overlords will have hell to pay.
Leonardo nudged his side. "We're going to have to sleep at some point, you realize."
"Do we? I'm sort of afraid if I let go of my mind again, I might not get it back."
His brother gave him a half smile. "It doesn't work like that – trust me."
"I do," Raphael affirmed meaningfully. "That's why I'm gonna go along with whatever these Ruairi and elohim say, as long as you're cool with trusting them."
Leo released a short breath. "We have to put faith in someone…and they have proved themselves in a couple of small ways. I just don't know how far we'll get without them in this environment. We're at a disadvantage, no matter how you look at it."
"We gotta do what we gotta do, huh?" Raphael sat up straighter on his rock. "Do you know what this weirdness is with the Ruairi's left hands?"
"You noticed that?"
"It's hard not to, Leo. They all hold them the same way, their fingers curled up like they're frozen or something."
"No, they can use that hand; I've seen them. I don't think there's anything technically wrong with them."
"You ever seen someone walk around like that, Bro? If there's nothing wrong with them, how can that be natural?"
Leonardo shrugged. "They were genetically altered, Raph. Who can say what's normal? I got a closer look at one of them while we were working on the masks together. His fingers look ordinary, but the nails were different. It appears they've been sharpened to a point."
"Huh. That's weird all right," Raphael commented. "But you're okay with these guys."
"I feel comfortable enough to say that. I'll never be sure about them until I understand their whole agenda. Maybe I shouldn't expect them to be completely open and honest with me, but it would easier if they were."
"Why wouldn't they wanna tell the truth, Leo, unless they've got something to hide?"
His brother shrugged once more. "They don't know us any better than we know them. We're the strangers here. There are probably all kinds of reasons."
"I guess," Raphael allowed. He looked over his shoulder at the Ruairis' fortress. "I wanna know what comes next, Leo, and how we're gonna find everybody. We're not going to figure that out sitting here though, are we?"
Leonardo almost chuckled. "No. You also look like you could pass out, Raph."
He rubbed his forehead tiredly, and then focused on his temples. "Yeah…I probably could. I'm ready to go inside."
His brother climbed off of the rock first and offered him a hand. Raphael didn't need his help to get up, but he didn't refuse it. They entered through the side door that was being guarded by two sentries, and Leonardo started to take the lead down the first corridor.
Raphael was surprised to see rapid movement in the hall ahead of them. Three figures were coming in their direction before they'd even taken five steps inside. Shell, they must have been ready to pounce. Were they just sitting back waiting for us this whole time? The red-masked turtle resisted the urge to scowl, barely.
They did get your shell out of that slave camp, he reminded himself. You've got your brother at your side, and he's kind of made friends with them already. Give these guys a chance at least.
"Is everything well?" Achaz asked, glancing between both turtles.
"My brother needs some rest," Leonardo said pointedly. "I know that all of us need to get together. We have a lot to talk about, but—"
"Leo, it ain't my first sleepless night, and it won't be the last," Raphael interrupted. "If you guys have anything to say about a possible plan to get to the others, I'd like to hear it."
The Ruairi looked over his shoulder at the two elohim. Raphael surveyed their silent interaction carefully. From Achaz's posture, he was clearly the dominating character. It was an extremely strange feeling to see the elohim being deferential to someone else. All these aliens aren't the same, he scolded himself. No more than all the criminals on Earth speak for the entire human race. Obviously some of them have to be good, or they wouldn't be helping us.
"We do not have enough information to act upon yet," one of the elohim spoke up.
Bahri, that was what Leo called him.
"We are in contact with our network of plants trying to discover more details of your brothers' whereabouts, in addition to the Ruairi hostage. There is a particular cell-block where most of the prisoners for the Matches are held, and we are working on getting a couple of our own inside," Bahri continued.
"Now when you say 'plants', are you talking like spies and stuff?" Raphael asked.
"In a manner of speaking, yes," Bahri answered. "There are several of us who secretly stand in opposition to the Overlords' regime, but we are not strong enough to form a true resistance against them. So we have remained silent and played our individual roles…waiting for an opportunity."
"You keep your heads down and pretend like you're all onboard…and there's already a trust in place with the bad guys?" Raphael suggested.
"You have said it," Ghyath told him. "We will have to rely heavily on elohim who are in the right places in order to accomplish this task."
"But does that involve giving your own people away in the process?" Leonardo asked. "What about the way you came with Raphael and Ezra tonight? Is your disappearance going to cast suspicion on you?"
"I managed to get myself 'reassigned' by the same Commander who has provided a cover for Bahri," Ghyath explained. "As far as those Overlords know, I was gone the day before yesterday."
"Still, you guys are risking a lot to help us," Raphael pressed. "The question is why?" Silence met his query, and it wasn't a good sign to the turtle.
"We believe you are here for a reason," Bahri said at last. "Though none of us yet know why, it seems important. Worthy of the risks that we have to take."
Raphael gave his brother a quick look. "I guess I'll have to accept that," he said evenly. For now anyway, he added. I wish we didn't have to rely on these guys so much. I hope they're on the level, because we could be totally screwed if they ain't.
The blue-eyed turtle was leaning against a wall, staring up at the white ceiling overhead. He imagined if he watched the surface long enough the color might shift or change, the same way that the dim lights would sometimes brighten. He sighed achingly, but wasn't sure why. How long have I been waiting? The thought was nothing more than a passing question which escaped his mind seconds after he'd asked it.
As far as he knew, the ever-present ceiling was his only friend. Sometimes there were soothing voices, but they never stayed long, and he didn't understand what they were trying to tell him. He sensed that they wanted something from him, but it was impossible to figure out what. The only thing that registered about their presence was that he usually ended up feeling more tired after they were gone. The ceiling was enough; it was nearest he could come to focusing on something. He was comfortable in his companion's silence, and the way it didn't confuse him.
Weariness tugged on his mind, and he instantly relinquished to it. He felt his breath automatically deepening, but a minor note of pain distracted him from it. He couldn't determine the source of the irritation nor did he possess the energy to move, so he put up with it.
Faint images danced behind his closed eyes, all of them indistinct and fuzzy. There were shadows that appeared to be as tall as skyscrapers, and every so often they would spout trails of fire that lit up the twilight world. He didn't have the presence of mind to question the scene, which had become another constant in his life. He couldn't rest without the images plaguing his consciousness.
The turtle remained under the cover of darkness with the familiar sensation that he was neither awake nor asleep. In moments like this his own body became almost non-existent. He desired nothing more than to be free of the heavy chains that were weighing him down to the ground.
A jarring motion on his shoulder succeeded in getting him to open his eyes again. The intrusion reminded him that he had a body, and he was imprisoned inside of it. The overhead lights were brighter once more, making everything feel hazy and distorted.
The turtle felt pressure on his arms, something gripping them and lifting him off the cold, hard floor that was his home. My arms, he realized. Who's got…Wherever the thought had been going, he'd already lost it.
The brief sense that he was ascending was nearly exhilarating, as he wondered how high he could fly. The understanding that he was not magically floating above the floor came to him the instant he was dropped upon his plastron on a different surface. Not the floor, he managed. Can I see the sky from here?
His vision took in nothing except a sea of grey. The turtle closed his eyes with bitter regret, longing for his old home with the perfect ceiling view. The loss of the comfort he'd come to treasure was a hard blow.
The feeling of something probing his body was enough to make him turn his head. Through the heavy fog that filled the room he could make out the shape of another figure, but the creature's features were missing, as if the stranger didn't even have a face. The turtle looked at him bleakly for a long moment, feeling empty and devoid. Wanna go home…Home, where is home? Where am I?
He rolled his neck away from the shadow, burying his face in the grey surface. He felt something touching him again, and tried to jerk away from the disturbance this time. Pressure descended on top of him, pinning him down firmly.
I could fight…I could… A long groan escaped as another wave of apathy washed over him before he could finish the thought. The sound reminded him of how dry his throat was, but he forgot about it a couple of seconds later.
The turtle blinked rapidly as someone turned him over, and the intensity of the light felt like it was boring through his skull. He wanted to shut his eyes. Being lost in the dark was better than being assaulted by the bright rays.
He wanted to be left alone. He was dead tired of continually going in circles. How long had he been going in circles, aimless, hopeless, lost. There was no dead end to pound his head upon or blissful nothingness to take the place of confusion. He wanted to sleep; it was the only thing that he really cared about. A sleep that refused to ever come.