CHAPTER SIX

DIVIDED

"Mike."

Pain. That was the first thing that registered in his mind.

"Michaelangelo. Hey. Wake up."

His body felt like it was on fire. He moaned. "God, my head..." he choked. "My whole..."

"I know," the voice came back. "You'll get used to it."

He didn't want to get used to it. He wanted it to stop. He came to slowly and realized he was on his side. "Am I dead?"
"No."

He sucked in a breath of air that felt like it was tainted with burning chemicals. He couldn't move. He was strapped to a table, his arms bent in front of him. Something was over his mouth. Like an oxygen mask. But it wasn't oxygen he was breathing. He coughed and heard it echo in the mask. God, what were they doing to him?

He couldn't open his eyes. He gave up trying after a few moments. He could feel his veins pulse with venom, and he knew his arms were full of tubes. He could feel them in his legs as well. "Where am I?"

"Not real sure. But it ain't even remotely close to heaven."

"Maybe it's hell," he suggested, still groggy.

"You're not dead, Mikey. Even if you feel like it, you're not."

That voice. He knew that voice. "Raphael?"

"Yeah."

He tried again to open his eyes, but he was too weak. He sighed, defeated, and went limp as his muscles rebelled. He hurt all over. "Where's Rei?" he moaned.

"They took her to do an ultrasound. Then they're gonna let her go. At least that's what they said."

"Ultrasound," he repeated quietly. "What the hell for?"

Raphael sighed, closing his eyes. "Just don't worry about it, Mikey."

"No, tell me," his brother protested. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine."

"Then why?"

Raphael didn't answer. They hadn't told him why, but he knew. They wanted to know if she was pregnant. For her sake, he hoped she wasn't. Michaelangelo moaned, his thoughts lost. "Oh god..." He choked on the air that invaded his lungs. "What are they doing to me?"

Raphael was quiet for a moment. "Mikey?"

"Nnnnh...?"

"Did Leo and Don know where you were? When they found you?"

Michaelangelo tried to answer, but he couldn't make his vocal chords work. He exhaled the last bit of energy he had, and slipped away again. Raph watched him from inside the cage. They didn't want him messing with Michaelangelo, so they'd locked him up like an animal. He would've busted the damn thing if it weren't made of reinforced steel. He felt his fists clench. Even if it hadn't been, he doubted if he had the strength right now to break a piece of cardboard.

He breathed deep and rested his head back against the bars. For a moment, it was silent. Then the door opened. He eyed the woman as she unlocked the cage and stepped inside of it. "Don't even think about it," she warned, reading his look.

Raphael glared at her. "If I did, what would you do about it, you sadistic bitch?"

She knelt beside him. "If you touch me, I have every intention of shooting you." She looked up at him and smiled wickedly. "I have your balls in the palm of my hand, freak, so don't try anything stupid."

He kept his eyes trained on her, and didn't flinch as the needle entered his arm. They'd learned a long time ago not to do anything to him without first rendering him unconscious. Even the anesthesia was dangerous to administer, and Patricia knew not to attempt it without several armed guards. He had been particularly fierce since they had caught the other one.

His jaw remained clenched, and he watched her for as long as he could before his eyes slid closed. "Take him to B," she ordered as his body relaxed.

***

"Rei?"

Somewhere in the darkness, she heard a voice. She moaned slightly and reached beside her, searching for Michaelangelo. He wasn't there. She forced her eyes open and saw Leonardo kneeling at the side of her bed. "Leo?" she questioned, confused. "Where's Mike?"

"I was hoping you could tell me that," he answered.

Her eyes closed again. Leonardo watched her expectantly. "Rei?"

"Mmm?"

"You and Michaelangelo took the van and you went upstate," he informed her, enunciating every word. "To a motel. And what happened?"

She stretched. "What are you talking about, Leo?"

Fear flooded through him. Did she not remember? This was not the time for her to have amnesia. "You and Mike went for a long drive to go see Raph's girlfriend."

"Why?"

"To find Raphael."

She opened her eyes. "Why? Is he missing?"

Leonardo's heart sank. He felt as if the air had been squeezed from his lungs. "Yes," he managed, afraid he might choke on his own voice. "You went to find him. And you were gone all night and halfway through the next morning before Casey drove out there and found you in a motel."

"Where am I?"

"Rei, what happened to Mikey?"

She sighed, but didn't answer. He watched her as her breathing slowed and she fell asleep again. He bowed his head. "Oh, god."

"She's drugged, Leo," Donatello mumbled. "Just give her some time to come out of it."

"Donny, she's been home for almost five hours. That's not including the time she spent getting here!"

Donatello sighed. "What do you want me to do about it, Leo? You want me to run a blood test? Tell you what they drugged her with? Does it really matter all that much?"

Leo turned and glared at his brother. "Donny, they could be dead."

Donatello nodded solemnly. "And if they are, there's nothing either of us can do about it."

Leonardo closed his eyes and let those words sink in for a moment. Then he stood up and walked to the door. "Leo?" He turned and looked. He could tell Don wanted to say something, but he just shook his head and looked away. "Nothing."

He walked through the living room to his own bedroom. He closed the door and stood still. Nothing moved in the darkness. He walked into the center of the room and dropped to his knees. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he let them come. It was only here that he would allow himself to cry. And only in the darkness. He hid his face in his hands and broke down, control slipping through his fingers and spilling around him.

In a room a million miles away, the monitors went unwatched.

***

"Leonardo?"

There was no response from inside the room. Splinter did not wait for one. Leonardo had been locked in his room all day. He had not come out for anything. Splinter was worried. He opened the door and looked inside.

His student was seated on the floor, his legs crossed and his eyes closed. He did not move as Master Splinter walked into the room and knelt in front of him. Then, finally, his eyes opened. There was a long pause, where neither of them spoke.

"Say something," Leonardo finally pleaded. "Make sense of all this. Tell me how to think, what to do."

He was answered with silence. Splinter knew that he could not give the answers his son sought. Leonardo knew it as well, and he looked away. Splinter sighed deeply. "I need you to deliver a message for me," he whispered.

Leonardo sighed. "What message?"

"When you find Raphael, I want you to tell him that he should not blame himself for this."

The words struck Leonardo. He watched his sensei intently. "You can tell him that yourself."

"Iie," Splinter sighed. "Where he is... my mind cannot go. It is as if... there is a barrier. One of pain and confusion that is stronger even than his mind."

Leonardo felt his heart clench in his chest. "What about Michaelangelo?"

Splinter stared straight at him, not avoiding his gaze. He did not answer. Leonardo felt tears sting the backs of his eyes. "Is he dead?" he choked, not entirely sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"I do not know," Splinter answered. "I feel nothing of him."

Leonardo bowed his head. "Master, if you cannot reach them, how do you expect me to?"

Master Splinter shook his head. "I do not expect such a thing."

"Then why tell me that?" he questioned. "For Raphael?"

A feeling of fear began to creep into Leonardo's soul as he watched his sensei's eyes close. He knew the answer before any words were spoken. "I tell you because I know that I will not see Raphael again."

Leonardo shook his head. "Don't say that," he whispered, a feeling bordering panic seeping into his soul. "Don't say that; sensei, we're gonna get him back. Both of them. Alive. They'll be fine."

Splinter drew a deep breath of air into his lungs. "Leonardo, it is not them I speak of."

Silence. Those words hit Leonardo with the force of a tsunami. He felt as it he'd just been slapped in the face. How could he say that? How long had he known? How could Leonardo not notice? Had he been so blinded by everything else going on that he didn't see what was happening right in front of him? He could hardly bring himself to form the words he knew he had to say. "You're dying," he realized, struggling for air.

"A man begins to die the moment he is born," Splinter answered. "Let us say only that I am nearer to my end than you, and I wish to be sure that my message is delivered."

Leonardo gasped air. He couldn't be hearing this. Not now. Please not now. He didn't know what he would do... "Please, no..." he choked.

Splinter smiled lovingly at the child who had grown to a man so much like himself. "Would you have me stop the course of time, Leonardo?" he whispered.

The student didn't know what to say. He looked away, hiding his face as tears began to flow steadily from his eyes. No. God, not now. He needed him now. "Leonardo, I am at peace with my life," Splinter whispered. "And I know you will do everything in your power to bring your brothers home safely, and to keep them together regardless of what may happen in your lives. I charge you with that, my son." Leonardo raised his eyes slowly. "Do not forget the force which binds you. Do not forget the power you possess when you are of one mind."

Leonardo dared not speak. There were a million things he wanted to ask, things he wanted to say. How long? he wanted to know. How can I keep us together when half of our family is gone? How can you stand to be at peace, when you know they could be dead? He bowed his head again, clenching his teeth and accepting the words with determined resolve, asking nothing. Master Splinter smiled and rested a hand on his student's head. "Take heart, my student," he whispered. "I have taught you everything I know. And I have great faith in you."

Leonardo nodded slightly, and Splinter rose to his feet. He was almost to the door when the student looked up. "Master?"

He turned. Leonardo watched him for a moment in the flickering candle light. "Thank you," he finally choked. "For... everything."

Splinter smiled and nodded slightly, then turned and walked out of the room. He had already spoken to Donatello, and had spent many hours trying to reach his other sons. He had faith enough in all of them to believe that they would all be together again. But at the same time, he knew the truth. He forced it aside, choosing instead to feel peace. It was, perhaps, the first time in his life that he had consciously chosen to ignore the truth.

He paused in the living room, and looked around. The familiar surroundings flickered in the dim light. These rooms had been his world for so very long, he felt he had almost forgotten the universe outside of them. He smiled, and turned to his room, closing the door behind him.

He set the candle on the bedside table and lay down. For a moment, he stared up at the ceiling. Then he closed his eyes, exhaled slowly, and went to sleep. In a room far away, Michaelangelo watched through teary eyes as the flame died.

***

"Splinter's gone."

Donatello looked up slowly and met his brother's stare. It was immediately evident that he'd been crying already this morning, and Don looked away. "I know," he answered solemnly.

Leonardo's eyes closed and he bowed his head in silence. For a long time, neither of them said anything. "We have to find them."

Don breathed deep. "Rei came out of it last night," he whispered. "She says it armed men busted into the hotel room. They threatened her and Mike went with them without a fight. That's all she remembers."

"Does she remember what time?" Leo choked. His heart wasn't in this conversation, but he knew it was necessary.

"No. She's pretty frantic right now. I gave her a mild sedative to calm her down."

There was another long silence as Leo tried to hold back tears. He kept his head down, his eyes squeezed shut. "I'm gonna..." he tried. But he choked on his voice. The moment he opened his mouth, the tears came.

Donatello looked away. "Yeah," he whispered, knowing how that sentence was supposed to end.

Leonardo walked to his room, closed the door, and cried.

***

Michaelangelo looked the other way, ignoring the discussion among the damned scientists. He wanted to go back to the room without all the monitors. He didn't want to see this anymore. He wanted to talk to Raphael, but he didn't know if he could. It seemed like every time he turned around, they were knocking him out again.

He was confused, but he knew what he heard. Nothing really felt real right now. It was all like a dream, even when he was awake. He didn't think he was ever really fully conscious. He could never tell when he was falling asleep, it just happened. Then he woke up again in another room, or with another person nearby. The world faded in and out of focus and he never really knew what was happening.

His mind played over the words again and again. Splinter was gone. How could he be gone? That wasn't right. He wouldn't leave... For a moment, he could think clearly and he realized that it hadn't been meant like that. Splinter was dead. He'd died. And he knew that. He'd watched it happen, although he had thought it was a dream at the time.

The coherant thoughts faded and he heard the sentence over and over again in his mind, like a chant. "Splinter's gone... Splinter's gone." Gone. He never got a chance to say good bye. That feeling of unfinished business was familiar, but he couldn't place where he'd felt it before.

He opened his eyes and saw white. The dark room was gone. Where was he now? He turned his head to the side and saw his brother leaned back against the wall, on the other side of a wall of bars. He studied him for a moment, and wondered if he was sleeping. He was so still. Was he slipping in and out like Mikey was?

"Raphael? Are you awake?"

"Talk in Japanese," Raphael answered after a moment of silence. "That way they won't understand you."

Mike was quiet for a minute. "They're not here."

"They've got cameras and mics in this room. I guarantee it."

Michaelangelo closed his eyes and listened to the chant again until it finally came out his mouth.

Raphael opened his eyes and stared at his brother. "What did you say?"

"He died in his sleep. Last night."

There was a long silence. Mike breathed deep. "I think he knew," he sighed, barely remembering a conversation from a lifetime ago. But no, it was only last night. "He said he... was at peace."

Raphael closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the bars. He didn't know what to say. It was too much to think about right now. "Raph, we gotta get outta here." His brother's voice held an edge of fear in it that sent a chill through his body. "We need to get back to Leo and Don. We can't be separated right now."

"I know," he breathed, his mind clouding over again. He felt pain sweep over him, whisking his thoughts away, and he clenched his teeth. He tried not to cry out as the world faded into agonizing nothingness again. For just a moment, it was all a bad dream.

***

A loud cry awoke Michaelangelo. He forced his eyes open, and the bright light burned them. A blurred figure that he assumed was Raphael sat a few feet away from him, on the floor. He was leaning against the wall, but his back was arched. He threw his head back as pain ripped through him, and spread his fingers wide. He could feel the wounds on his hands, the stitches that had replaced his skin. He felt blood run down his back, beneath his shell. The open wounds burned with the stinging chemicals that had been meant to sterilize them. He felt blood pool on the floor underneath him, and involuntary tears streamed from the corners of his eyes.

The moans were drawn out expletives that alerted Mike of his fury. But the pain was even more evident. Raphael sobbed, and collapsed on the floor, unconscious. Michaelangelo watched him for a moment. His body felt strangely foreign, as if he were in a dream. He could feel something different inside of him. He breathed deep, wondered if he was dreaming, and closed his eyes again.

He was awake, but not fully alert, when someone walked into the room. He felt like his muscles had been turned to jello, and he didn't even think to try for the door. "One-forty-eight over eighty two."

"He's coming down quick."

"And stablizing again," the woman observed. "Right back to normal. It's just unconscious."

"I wonder how long he'll be out this time."

"I don't know." She was quiet for a moment. "Look at its face, Matthew," she whispered. "Even its bone structure is adapting."

"Maybe it would be a good idea to keep him sedated. Just for the pain."

"You mean comatose," she mumbled.

"How long you think it'll take to completely run its course?"

"I don't know. Another month, maybe?"

"Where's the blood coming from?"

"Underneath its shell," she observed. "Its skin is pulling away."

"How's that possible?"

She sighed. "Well actually, I think it's attacking the cellular structure of the shell. Rejecting it, you know? At an incredible rate. It can't produce new skin cells fast enough."

"Can we speed that up?"

"I don't know."

The man sighed. "What percentage of the cells have accepted the change so far?"

"About thirty five." There was a moment of silence. Then the woman spoke again. "What do you think?"

Another pause. "I think we should keep him under."

"Well, I don't think he'd object to that," she mumbled. "Think you and Adam can get him to B?"

"Yeah, I think so."

Michaelangelo felt sick to his stomach. He heard the clicking heels on the floor, coming toward him, and tensed. "You're awake," she observed, kneeling next to him.

He forced his eyes open and stared up at her. She was probably in her mid to late thirties, blonde hair, glasses, hazel eyes. He tried his best to glare at her, but he didn't have the strength. He surrendered, helpless. "What did you do to my brother?" he choked.

"He's fine," she answered sweetly. "And so are you. I just want you to relax. Trust us."

He felt anger flare up inside of him. "Fuck you," he whispered.

"Now, let's not get off to a bad start here. We don't want that, now do we?"

God she hoped he didn't want that. The other one sure had. "I'm going to ask you a few questions, okay?"

"Lab animals don't answer questions," he breathed. "And if we're anything but that, you've got no right to keep us here."

The woman studied him for a moment, then stood up. "Fascinating," she mumbled under her breath.

"What is?" her partner asked.

"The way this one talks. He's using deductive reasoning."

There were a million things Michaelangelo wanted to say, but he couldn't make his mouth work. His eyes slid closed and he surrendered to the darkness.