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The needle digs a hole through my bloodied flesh as Donatello sews the torn skin on my arms back up. I don't flinch as the stitches are placed, unlike before. I've felt too much pain to be tattered by thread being pulled through my skin.

As Donatello finishes doctoring me, he heaves a sigh and climbs onto the medical table to sit beside me. He wraps an arm around my shoulders, and his head lolls to the side until it's resting next to mine. I close my eyes and smile, appreciating the embrace greatly. After two months spent alone in a cell, this is definitely overdue.

"Raph, you know that if you'd come any later you'd have bled out, right?" Donatello's voice drips with disapproval.

"Yeah," I whisper, leaning into his touch, "but I didn't."

"But you could have."

"But I didn't," I state firmly. My smile plummets as a tear drops onto my shoulder. My eyes go bloodshot in realization, and I quickly pull away from Donnie. No matter how many times I've cried, or others have cried, I still can't get comfortable being around during these kinds of events.

"Donnie," I murmur, shifting closer to him. My arms grab his shoulders as I study his leaking face. His eyes are positioned downward as he attempts to avoid eye contact.

One hand flutters away from his shoulder, and grabs his chin instead. My fingers bent below, my thumb above, I gently lift his head until he's looking at me.

Seconds pass by and neither of say a word. His burgundy eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep, and the bags under his eyes look unbearable. Tonight, I promise, I'm going to keep an eye on him and make sure he sleeps. I'll do that for all my brothers. And for me. I think we could all use some rest.

I let go of him, weaving my fingers together and resting my hands on my lap as I stare at my little brother in awe. "What's the matter?"

Donatello bursts into a sarcastic chuckle and demands, "What's the matter? What the shell do you think is the matter?! You were gone for two months and we don't hear from you till last week! None of us were even sure to believe Leo, and the one time I tried to get in contact with you nothing happened."

I sigh as I explain, "Yeah, well, I only did it the one time. I hadn't even thought of spiritually contacting anyone up until the other day. And after that time I was too busy planning the escape."

"That's another thing, too, Raphael. Your escape resulted in you cutting deep; literally! You cut each of your arms, forgetting every promise you've ever made. Leonardo told me that, when you two met in the spiritual world, you promised him that you wouldn't self harm while you were there. But what did you do today? I'll tell you what you did, you ignored everything we've ever said to you and went and cut yourself to release some inner pain that we could've helped you with if you'd just waited three freaking hours!" Donatello yells at me, standing up and walking away. He pulls several bottles out of the white cabinet, the one that's always locked. He places them gently on a cart, and wheels it over to me.

"I've already told you several times, it was necessary if I wanted to get out," my voice is hushed as I watch Donatello stalk over to his desk and rip a syringe out of the third drawer down.

"That doesn't change a thing," Donnie mutters, shaking his head slightly. He fills the syringe half way with a pink liquid.

I sit calmly as he injects the medicine into my neck. "Well, it kinda does, actually. Would you rather have me back in that cell, or here?"

Donatello has his back turned to me as he opens the various bottles and pours pills onto a tray. His fists slam hard against the table, and he begins to shake. I can tell by the way his breathing heavies that he's about to loose it.

"I want you home and happy! Alright?" He whips around, facing me with curled lips and clenched teeth. "I want you happy and healthy and safe but I guess that's just too much to ask for, isn't it?"

My eyes widen and jaw drops to the floor. The only sound is Donnie's heavy breaths leaving and entering his nostrils at a slow pace. His patience is thin, he's just barely hanging on.

I feel as if my entire world has shattered into a million shards of nothingness. Donnie's words are far more stunning than any taser could ever be. I knew that he cared very much, but, I didn't know that he would burst into flames if it meant me understanding his feelings.

Pangs of guilt come shooting at me like arrowheads, impaling me deeply. I stare at Donnie, my lips mushed together in a tight frown. Tears continue to stream down his face until I practically leap forward.

I collapse into his gentle arms and bury my face in the crook of his neck. For the second time today, I breakdown, sobbing blissfully into his skin. Tears stain my mask as I wring my eyes dry. Sadness drips down from within, and the grief cascades into a butterfly of alleviation.

"I know, and now we can have that," I exclaim between outdated breaths.

"Promise?"

I nod my head against his olive skin, "I promise."

"Good," Donnie murmurs and squeezes me tighter. His head is on my shoulder as we stand in an embrace. I feel warm and welcomed. I feel at rest with ease surrounding me. I feel at home.

"So, what's wrong little brother?"

Donatello let's out a sigh, his hot breath sending pleasurable shivers running down my spine. "I've missed you. A lot. So did Mikey and Leo. And I just couldn't help thinking everyday you weren't here, that that's what it would be like if you killed yourself."

I inhale the words deeply and let them make a pool in my mind. Every day I was gone was a living hell for my brothers and an endless battle for me. That's exactly what my death would be like. My three brothers would be constantly mourning me, trying to move forth in life without me by their side. And I'd be down in hell confusing right for wrong, trying to find ways back up to the surface.

Never have I ever realized how much I don't want that. Once upon a time, death was my only wish in life, it's all I wanted. But now I'm opening up my eyes and seeing the disgust in that desire.

I draw back from the embrace, looking Donatello dead in the eyes. The slightest grin forms on my face as I say, "Well, then, we'll just have to make sure I don't kill myself; won't we?"

"Xever?" Darkness filters the windy sky, storm clouds blocking the moon from shining down. My calls meet the hissing drafts, mingling with the howls blissfully.

Out from behind a decaying wall he comes, sidestepping his way into view.

I walk to him, retromutagen in hand. Leonardo trails behind me. My older brother insisted on accompanying me on this mini-mission, having barely let me out of his sight since the second I got home. Which is a win-win, because I can't stand the thought of him being at home with Splinter and no one to guard him. Of course, Michelangelo and Donatello are both down there, but they're occupied with their own activities. Mikey is cleaning up after tonight's dinner, while Donatello is mending to Karai's wounds. I can only imagine the stress he's feeling right now. I cut her deep, and it was in the stomach, too. An image of his face as he first saw her unconscious, bleeding body on the metal table in his lab flashes through my mind. Knowing him, he got to work immediately m. But still, that doesn't mean it was an easier. I doubt he'll even be able to save her; he said it himself.

Xever meets me half way, and our bodies stand with a foot between them. The cold, glass canister filled to the brim with a sparking Orange ooze sits gently in my hand. Xever eyes the retromutagen curiously upon saying, "Is that it?"

I nod, "Yup. Only pour a little on yourself, I'll take the rest home to Donnie."

The vile opens with a click, and Xever glances at me and Leonardo hesitantly, as if in question of what to do next. His eyes are wide in question, so I glance over at Leonardo, who's already looking at me. With those sapphire eyes resting upon me, my posture softens, relaxing to the extent of my straight shell slumping back. The comfort that radiates off of Leonardo's pride filled form wraps around me like a thick blanket of complacency.

Leo turns his head to look back at Xever. "Bottoms up," he says while holding his arms across his plastron.

"Haven't got all night," I add.

Within minutes, Xever is soaked in the Orange ooze, howling as it burns his flesh, painfully mutating him back to his original form. His bones shrink back to the size of a mans rather than a mutant snakehead fishes. His skin changes from purple to brown in a matter of seconds, and his long, piercing teeth lose their sharpness until they're exactly like my own.

The transformation is a sight of never imagined I'd be a witness of, but here I am not watching my cell mate loose his freakish looks and go back to his handsome self.

He spends a while admiring his new body, his former body. Leonardo wraps an arm around my shoulder as a smile creeps up on me, sucking the weariness straight out of me. As I watch Xever grin at the astonishment of the moment, I can't help but tell myself that I am the reason this has happened. This is my doing, no one else's. I've done something to make a man feel new, and he can now be happy with his family thanks to my aid.

"Thank you," Xever says to me greatefully.

"You helped me return to my family, it was the least I could do to help you get to yours," I reply.

Leonardo's eyes wander from me, to Xever. "We'd better get going, Raph. Don't want to worry the others."

I look to my older brother and give him a faint nod of agreement. Just before I turn away, though, I stare Xever in the eyes and say, "Promise me you'll never go back to that life?"

"I promise."

And that's the last I'll ever see of Xever Montes. That cold, windy September night.

When we arrive back at the lair, Donnie and Mikey are both sitting on the bench, staring at a blank tv screen. It's silent down here, despite the noisy city overhead. Sometimes I wonder how those city dwellers make it to sleep at night, what, with all that noise it has to keep them awake. But then I come realize that I don't have it so easy, either. I have three brothers, one who's always barking orders, one who couldn't be calm if he tried, and one who's keen for knowledge, but also for the sarcastic comebacks he's known for making. To add to the crowdedness in our humble home, the subways are always roaring beside us, beneath us, and above us at all times. To be utterly honest, I've grown to find comfort in the squealing sounds of the dozens of small wheels grinding against the tracks as the car halts to a stop. Sometimes, I suppose, you get used to things, and when you are used to them, you find abundance of comfort in them.

I plop down next to Michelangelo, who shifts so his head can by resting on my plastron. Leonardo sits on the other side of me, resting his lolled head on my shoulder for support. My arms wrap around both my brothers, and Donatello grabs the hand that rests on the bridge of Mikey's shell, holding it in his own.

"So, he's human again?" Mikey says, asking for clarification.

I nod briskly, "Yup. And we won't be seeing him any time soon."

"One down plenty more to go, right?" Donatello suggests, looking at the positive side of things. A faint chuckle escapes his throat and follows after his words.

Smirking, I consider his words to be correct. "Two down, actually. We have Karai with us, and she ain't leavin' back to the Shredder any time soon, if I can help it."

"None of us are leaving," me and my two little brothers turn our heads in Leonardo's direction. His sapphire eyes are glazed over with refuge, making him look even more like a bulwark than usual. "We have to stay together, down here. We can't risk losing anyone." The word he leaves out is "again." But nevertheless, he's right, we can't go up there; it's a suicide mission.

Donatello's burgundy eyes widen in befuddlement. "But the Kraang-"

"No, Donnie, the Kraang are gone." When Leonardo's reply is met with disbelieving eyes, shooting him down faster than a gunner shoots a deer, he heaves a sigh and explains further. "We haven't heard word one from the Kraang in over four months! They're gone, guys."

I snort, rolling my eyes at my older brother. "Either that or their planning something big."

"Raph's right," I'm taken aback at the next little voice. Mikey, still laying with his head on my chest, stares intently at the walk across from us. "I mean, we didn't hear shit from the Shredder, and then look what happened. Karai wound up being on his end of the rope, and only traveled over to us as a sick prank gone wrong." For the second time in only a matter of minutes, Michelangelo manages to shock me. The mild language that escapes his mouth is rather odd sounding, perhaps because he's never been one to cuss. Yet, here he is now, saying the words I'd thought to be dead to this family. I guess that Leonardo and I weren't the only ones to mature, strengthen, and weaken all at once over the past two months.

Leonardo heaves a sigh. I know all too well how painful it is for him to think about Karai and the suffering she put him through, that goes without saying. The grief that clouds his eyes stings to look at, and I wince. "To be honest, I don't care anymore. The Kraang can take over the world, for all I care. The only thing I'm sure of anymore is that my life isn't going to end on a battlefield. At least if the world is demolished, I'll die in the safety of my home, with you three." No one responds, we just sit in silence.

Later on in the night, we turn the tv on. Me and my brothers quietly watch Monsters Inc. together, cuddled up close to each other on the bench. Donnie and Mikey fall asleep leaning against each other halfway through, so me and Leonardo turn off the DVD player and cover our little brothers in plenty of warm blankets before seizing to our bedroom.

Apparently, while I was gone, Leonardo moved all of my stuff into his bedroom. Our beds are on opposite sides of the room, as well as our personal items. It's as if the entire room was split in half; one side for me and the other for him.

I don't even bother with my bed, I know Leonardo will call me over to his anyway. So, Leo presses his shell against the wall, making room for the incoming. I pull back the blankets and skip onto the mattress with my brother. I waste no time getting comfortable. Soon, my face is pressed into his neck, his strong, alleviating scent surrounding me. I smirk against his skin.

Ah, how good it feels to be home.

...

Well I'm going home,

Back to the place where I belong,

And where your love has always been enough for me.

I'm not running from.

No, I think you got me all wrong.

I don't regret this life I chose for me.

But these places and these faces are getting old,

So I'm going home.

Well I'm going home.

...