CHAPTER 3: WHEN IT ALL COMES DOWN

I don't want to be the one
The battles always choose
'Cause inside I realize
That I'm the one confused

I don't know what's worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream
I don't know why I instigate
And say what I don't mean
I don't know how I got this way
I'll never be alright
So, I'm breaking the habit
I'm breaking the habit
Tonight

-Breaking the Habit, Linkin Park

RAPHAEL

"Casey?"

I stepped through the apartment door, pulling my key out of the lock. The place looked empty. The kitchen light was on, but it wasn't unlike Casey to leave in a rush. Dishes filled the sink and covered most of the adjoining counter. I removed my helmet, thinking maybe he hadn't heard me through the thick plastic visor.

"CJ, you here?"

Again, no answer. I came in anyway, taking of the leather gloves and unzipping my jacket. First things first, I went into the kitchen and rooted through the cabinets until I found what I wanted – a full bottle of Jack Daniels. I took a swig straight out of the bottle before finding a glass, filling it halfway with whiskey and the rest with generic cola. I grinned.

Leave it to Casey to spend his money on the important part of the drink.

Who knew where he was? Probably at some townie bar, playing pool and trying to pick up a girl. Typical. Tonight, I would have given anything to be there with him.

Crossing back to the living room, I glanced briefly at the TV, but decided that I'd rather just listen to music. The CD remote was lying on the couch cushion. Flipping it on to whatever was in there, I spread out on the couch and rested my head back.

I laid like that, eyes closed, for the time it took me to finish the first drink. It wasn't too long. Casey's music was some sort of rap/rock hybrid that I didn't recognize. But as loud as it was, it was oddly soothing. Of course, the alcohol helped too. It drove my feelings back into my core.

Instead of mixing another drink, I just grabbed the bottle instead. When the goal was getting drunk, there was no point in messing around. I didn't want to think, didn't want to worry. For once, I wasn't even angry - I was just sick and tired of it all.

And get drunk I did, letting myself drown in feeling, slipping further and further into oblivion.

Crack!

My eyes flew open instantly, despite my self induced stupor. Glancing around the room, I realized that I must have fallen asleep. The clock on the mantle read something around 10 o'clock. Not understanding what the noise was, my hands reached immediately for my weapons, but all I felt was the leather of the clothes that I still wore. My sai were underneath.

Crack!

Thunder. I groaned, my head spinning. Nothing to worry about, it was just storming outside. I flipped myself over to go back to sleep. I was sure Casey wouldn't mind if I spent the night.

Shit. Somehow my thoughts drifted back to earlier in the evening, when I was wondering where he might be. What if he brought a girl home? Casey definitely wouldn't be getting a second date after she saw a mutant turtle passed out his couch.

Phone. I could call him. Yeah, I needed to call him, tell him I was here.

It took a lot of effort to lift myself up. Still groggy, I scanned the kitchen for the phone. Confused when I didn't find it, I got up off the couch and flipped another light on so I could see better.

That's when I remembered that he'd gotten rid of it. Traded in his landline for a cell phone, saying it was so much cheaper. I cursed my luck. I'd forgotten my own cell back at the lair in my hurry to leave.

That left me with two options. Stay here and risk being seen, or suck it up and try to ride home. I didn't like either one.

While I was in the kitchen, I grabbed a glass of water, hoping it would somehow clear my head. It didn't. I realized I wasn't even sure how much I drank. The whiskey bottle lay tipped over on the floor, what little contents were left had soaked into the living room carpet. Although my body kept telling me to just go back to sleep, I decided that I needed to get back to the lair. I'd driven drunk before, and I kept telling myself that I was fine. I just needed to focus a little.

I found my gloves on the floor near the door, and my helmet still sat on an end table near the couch. After gazing quickly through the peep hole, I opened the door slowly and slipped into the hallway. Fumbling with my keys, I tried to find the right one to lock the door.

God, if only my head would quit pounding!

When I got outside, I realized that it was just beginning to sprinkle. Hopefully I'd be able to get home without getting too wet. The cool breeze felt good, it helped quell the nausea that had begun to creep up on me.

Straddling the bike, I struggled to pull it upright and flip up the stand. The Harley was big, and strong as I was, my coordination was lacking. Luckily I got it started without a problem. There didn't seem to be too many people out tonight, which was good. The night was still young, and most of the party crowd wouldn't appear until at least midnight. Easing the accelerator forward, I pulled out into a gap in the oncoming traffic.

It took every ounce of concentration I had to stay upright on the bike. My mind wanted to wander to anything except driving. Hell, Splinter was going to kill me when I got home. As strange as it sounded, I hoped that he was still angry enough not to want to talk to me. Then at least I'd be sober enough to yell back.

The rain was still light, not yet enough to bother my vision through the visor. Listening to my own motor calm as I stopped at a red light, a heard the gun of another motorcycle behind me. Turning to the sound, I realized that it wasn't one, but four. Harleys, like mine, but older models that looked like they'd seen their share of seasons. All of them had single riders except the one, which held two people.

None of them wore helmets. The guy closest to me, directly to my left, had a thick black goatee and wavy hair. My eyes were immediately drawn to the thick gold hoops that were pierced all along both ears. His entire image screamed, "Don't fuck with me, or I'll rip your head off." The rest of the guys weren't much different, just variation on a theme of the first. What bothered me most was the way that "Mr. Hoops" was smiling at me. His lips curled evilly as his stare traveled back and forth between me and my bike.

Before I realized what was happening, one of the men nosed up close to me on the right.

Too close.

The rev of a motor let me know the one directly behind me had done the same. If they wanted to play a game with me, this was not the night to do it. The guy beside me kept smiling, unzipping his jacket and reaching toward his belt. I felt a wave of nausea hit me again, except this time it was mixed with something else.

Panic.

Mr. Hoops had a gun.

LEONARDO

"Check out those cars, Donnie!" Mike exclaimed from his place on the floor. As the movie progressed, he'd crept closer and closer to the screen as he got more excited. He loved watching movies. "Dude, what are they?"

"Mini Coopers. And before you ask if we can get one, your big fat shell wouldn't fit in there anyway."

"Would so."

"Shhhhh!" April brought her finger to her lips and hugged her pillow closer. She and Casey were up on the couch, her legs draped across his lap. Don and I had claimed both chairs, leaving Mike to sit on the floor. The Chinese food April ordered had come late, so we went ahead and started the movie while we ate. Of course we had to promise April not to spill, which was a tall order, especially for Mike.

Casey had arrived shortly after we did. We all questioned him being in charge of the movie, but he'd actually done a decent job for once. He'd picked up The Italian Job, which had enough action for us and just enough story for April. Don, being in control of the remote, had the volume way up to cover the noise of the thunder outside. It was definitely a good night to be in watching a movie.

"Holy shit, I didn't know girls could drive like that!"

"MIKE!" April threw her pillow at him. "No more movies if you can't learn to shut your mouth!"

Casey stifled a laugh. "I don't think that's possible Ape." He tickled her feet playfully, and she smacked his hand away.

Watching the three red, white, and blue cars weave back and forth on the screen, I felt a sudden tingling in my finger tips. Confused, I stretched my hands out and flexed my fingers back and forth. It didn't go away, but instead spread up my arms, making me take a sharp breath as it reached my chest.

"Hey Leo, you ok?" Don asked, giving me a quizzical look. The other three were glued to the TV screen.

"Fine," I replied, taking another deep breath. Actually, I was far from it. A feeling that could only be described as dread was spreading throughout my entire body. To make matters worse, I suddenly felt like I was sitting in a sauna – beads of sweat began to form across my forehead. "I think I just need a drink of water."

Don watched me as I went to the kitchen, filling a glass with the coldest water I could get out of the tap. I drank the whole thing, splashing my face as well when I was finished. The water ran down my cheeks and dripped off my chin into the sink.

It didn't help, and I struggled to keep a hold of myself.

RAPHAEL

I had enough presence of mind to know that I was in trouble. Deep trouble. I wasn't sure exactly what these guys wanted, but I assumed it was my bike. And it seemed as if they were willing to go to extreme measures to get it.

There was also no way that I could fight my way out of this one. I was so drunk I could barely walk, let alone give five huge bikers a run for their money. So when I saw the glint of metal emerging from the guy's belt, I did the only thing I could.

Twisting the accelerator forward as hard as I could, I tried to barrel my way ahead of the Harley to my left. There was just enough space for me to squeeze the bike between his front tire and the car in front of me. I felt my thigh push against the back bumper, and I reached out to push myself away from the window.

The biker yelled, reaching for his own accelerator to try and block my exit, but he was too slow. I skidded past him, turned, and barreled through the red light. I kept waiting for the sound of a gun, but all I heard was the roar of my own engine.

As I raced down the street, I hazarded a glance behind me.

Shit, they weren't giving up.

I felt the adrenaline shoot through my body. The street was clear, and I let my speed top out at almost 50 mph. It was dangerously fast for a residential street and I knew it.

There were very few times in my life when I'd actually been scared. Usually my ego had a way of keeping fear in check, and I had full confidence in my abilities to fight my way through a mess. Leonardo was convinced that my confidence would eventually bring me down one day, and he never missed a chance to tell me so. But my cockiness did have its limits. This was one of those times. I was really, truly scared that if these guys caught me, they would probably shoot me. As much as my life sucked right now, I wasn't ready for it to end quite yet.

As the panic gripped me tighter, only one thought ran through my mind: get back to the park. There was no way these guys would follow me into the sewer. And even if they tried, I could lock the grate behind me.

Get to the park, get to the park, get to the park...

The buildings whizzed by in a blur as I did my best to maneuver. The other four Harley's never faltered, keeping on my tail about two or three blocks behind.

The rain picked up as I snaked my way through town. It seemed like it had been raining in this area for a while now, as evident by the puddles of standing water on the street. Not only did the rain make the road slick, but it made it harder for me to see.

After what seemed like ages, I saw the familiar sign for Echo Park. Though I normally entered through a back route in the trees on the other side, I went ahead and took the bike through the front entrance. Motorized vehicles definitely weren't allowed, and the sidewalk was barely wide enough to accommodate me. Because of the rain and the late hour, the place was completely deserted.

It took just a few moments to reach the hill. I had to veer off of the sidewalk into the grass, and I felt the tires sinking into the soggy ground. It was then, when I was so close to safety, that I made a crucial error.

Normally I would walk the bike down the hill. It wasn't horribly steep, but I never wanted to risk an unnecessary damage to my Harley. In my present situation, all I felt was the urgency to get back to the sewers. So, with my clouded judgment, I hit the incline going way to fast. The high speed coupled with the muddy ground made for disaster.

My back tire slipped almost instantaneously. The whole bike tipped sideways, pinning my left leg under its enormous weight. My entire body collided with the ground, the force on my head being great enough to knock my helmet completely off. The bike and I both careened down the hill, a tangled mess of flesh and metal.

Still conscious, I felt the side of my face slide on the wet grass. The burning in my left leg was agonizing, and I gritted my teeth hard to try and numb the pain. Half way down, the rear end slammed into a tree trunk, bringing the Harley to a jarring halt. My leg was ripped from the bike's grip, forward momentum continuing to pull me downward.

My body came to rest in the small trickle of water running into the sewer, made slightly deeper from the falling rain. When I tried to open my eyes the entire world seemed to tilt, and I quickly shut them again. For a moment I didn't even know where I was. I just knew I was cold, really cold, and pain was threatening to overtake me. I was ready to let it take me under when a voice pulled me back from the edge.

"Raphael! Raphael, look at me!" The voice was urgent, surprisingly loud over the storm. Confused, I let me head roll to the side, my lids fluttering open.

It was Master Splinter.

What was he doing here?

His yellow eyes glowed from the darkness of the sewer. Hands wrapped around the metal bars of the grate, he looked as if he was trying to push it open. His stare quickly shot from me to something over and behind me.

"Raphael! You have to get up! There are men coming down the hill!"

Get up? Men? Oh shit…

Reality hit me like a ton of bricks. If I wanted to live to see tomorrow, I had to get into the sewer.

It was exhausting just to lift myself to my knees, but I managed to crawl the twenty or so feet that spanned to the entrance. My left leg was completely useless. It dragged behind me, leaving a trail of blood in the rainwater. When I reached him, Splinter's bony paw tipped my face toward him. He was trembling.

"My son, I need your keys."

Keys. I had no idea where they were.

"Raphael, please try to focus! I need your keys to open the lock!"

Precious seconds past as I tried to think. Where? …oh no. My stomach twisted. They were still in the motorcycle ignition. I was about to turn to go get them when another voice broke the night.

"What the fuck…?!"

Looking over my shoulder, I saw one of the bikers standing a short distance behind me. A look of terror was wiped across his face, his gun hand shaking as he pointed it toward my head. He was completely unable to wrap his mind around what he was seeing.

My blood ran ice cold. With no helmet on, my green skin was wholly exposed to the horrified gunman. He was just far enough away that there was nothing I could do but hold perfectly still.

Unable to protect myself, Splinter did it for me. With animalistic ferocity, he launched a throwing star through the space between the bars. In a flash it had embedded itself within the gunman's arm. He shrieked in pain.

And the gun went off.

LEONARDO

Donatello knew I wasn't fine. As I felt my legs get weak, he was at my side, pulling my arm around his shoulder. I let him support me, leaning into the comfort of his body's steadiness.

"Mike!"

The alarm in Don's voice made all three turn. April paled.

"Oh god, what's wrong with him?" she asked, too surprised to move.

Casey vaulted himself over the back of the couch, rushing to help Don hold me up. My head was swimming and I felt like I wanted to throw up. With unsteady steps, I let them guide me to a chair. Mike reached my side, placing his hand across my forehead.

"Leo?" Mike's voice sounded worried. I didn't answer, breathing deep in an effort to try and comfort myself. I wished I could reassure him, but suddenly I started to understand exactly what it is I was feeling. I was afraid of my own words as they cut through the silence.

"Guys, I'm not sure, but I think there's something wrong with Raphael."