Chapter 6

January 17th; 1:42 a.m.

Silence - an element I had been living with for months. It was something that seemed to follow me wherever I went. I didn't matter if I was alone in my room, or surrounded by all my three brothers in the kitchen. That awkward, dreadful silence still hung over me.

This particular night wasn't any different. I shared the living room couch with Raphael, the two of us watching television in the quiet company of each other. It was dark, the only light coming from the open kitchen subcar to our right, apart from the colorful images that flashed on the TV screen. We wasted no time in talking to each other, but allowed the silence to build an invisible wall of suppression between us.

I never did say much to any of my brothers. It seemed as if every conversation was a result of them reaching out to me. Raph never bothered to small talk. If I didn't have anything to say, he never made an effort to try. Even if I was the only person around.

Don and Mike had left the lair to patrol the city together, something they'd been doing a lot since Splinter left us. I don't know if it was consciously, but the two of them had definitely been seeking company in each other. They used to be pretty close while growing up, but the bond they shared grew weaker as the years passed and they developed different hobbies. By puberty they had slipped pretty far apart, Don replacing Michelangelo's company with his computers and studies, while Mikey found somewhat of a kindred spirit in Raphael.

However, after Splinter died the two of them started spending more time with each other. I think the reason for it was Mike, and how he turned to Donatello for support - like when they were younger. Don never could say no to him, so his ear was always open whenever Mike needed to confide in him, as was his shoulder offered for the tears he spilled. They must have discovered what they saw in each other as kids, because as the months passed, as did their bond grow.

That is why the phone call scared me as much as it did. They never called while they were out on their private little patrols together. The only reason would be if something was wrong, in which case they needed our help.

The polyphonic melody bellowed from inside the kitchen subcar and Raph turned to look at me in the darkness, his eyes asking me if it was my phone. Unsure of the answer, my eyes held the same question as I met his gaze. It was late, so any phone call at this time of hour must have meant bad news, especially with the lives we led.

The thought seemed to have hit us both, as the two of us flew up from the couch and ran inside the kitchen. Raph got there first and snatched the phone from the table, flapping it open before he fearfully put it to his ear.

I noticed as someone talked on the other end that it had in fact been Raph's phone they had called. We each had four different models; cellphones Don had found at the junkyard and repaired. Raph's was spray painted with a dark red color and seemed to have lived a rougher life than any of ours had. It was scratched and dented, matching the rest of his belongings.

I turned my attention back to Raph. His features tensed as he recognized the voice on the other end and he clutched the phone tighter as he answered,

"Mikey?"

Worry grasped me at the specific tone of voice he used. It had an overprotective ring to it, one that never showed in Raph's voice unless something bad had happened to our youngest brother. Fearfully, I moved in closer, hoping to catch some the words that were said on the other line.

"..he don't look so good," Mike spoke, his breathless voice panting through the speaker. I could tell he had been fighting, either that or running an awful lot. His breathing wasn't tired because of emotional stress, it was physical.

"Where ya at?" Raph asked firmly, cutting straight to the information he needed.

"I'm not sure," his voice wheezed through the phone. "We were on our way back when.. when they ambushed us."

Ambushed. He had been fighting.

Scenarios started playing themselves out in my head. I knew from the instant he used the word 'they' that he was in fact talking about the Foot. And I knew Donnie had to battle them by himself as Mike took the time to make the call. Scary images flashed in my mind, the state they might be in when we got there.

We had to leave.

"We're on our way," Raph said, thinking the thoughts I were as he flapped the phone shut and tucked it into his belt. He gave me an urgent look before he rushed out of the kitchen, fetching his weapons in his room and heading out the exit ladder.

He didn't have to say anything, I knew they needed us there as soon as possible.

Stopping by my room, I strapped my katana onto my back and followed Raph out of our home, sprinting through the sewers with his blackened form running in front of me. The methodical sound of the water splashing up on our legs echoed in my head as I ran, mixed with the trained breaths I took while running.

But there was something else accompanying me in the wet tunnels, apart from the noise that surrounded me. There was a certain thought that wouldn't leave my consciousness.

He called Raph.

How come he dialled Raph's number and not mine? I was the leader, I was the official person to turn to if anything like this happened. Mike was probably stressed as he made the call, and didn't think about which number he dialled as he did. But that bothered me even more. He was obviously fearing for his and Don's safety, and so on instinct he turned to Raph for help.

I wasn't jealous of Raph or anything. It didn't have anything to do with sibling rivalry. I just remembered that there had been a time when Mikey called me. Once upon a time he dialled my number when searching for help.

Somehow, that had all changed, as I found myself running behind the leading shell of my younger brother.

I was the oldest, I was their big brother. For as long as I could remember, they had all turned to me when they got into trouble. It could be anything from accidentally breaking a furniture to needing backup in a fight. I had always been the rock they leaned on.

When had I lost control of everything? At what point did my brothers no longer turn to me for guiding and help? I suppose I only had myself to blame. I had been secluding myself for quite some time. They were bound to get tired of reaching out. Eventually, they would reach elsewhere.

I guess I just never thought it would hurt so much when they did.

I felt like I wasn't important anymore, like I didn't matter. I had always thought my family needed me, that they needed my leadership to guide them and hold us together. They could obviously do without me, and that thought scared me more than I believed possible. Because if my brothers didn't need me... what purpose did I have?

Mentally, I was helplessly hanging over the edge of a skyscraper, holding on to the hands of one of my brothers. That night, I felt like he slipped with one of his hands, leaving me hanging above the lethal pavement by one hand alone. The weight got so much heavier to hold on that one hand; my burden that much harder to carry.

I was that much closer to falling.

Finally, Raph reached the manhole we were heading towards and ascended the iron ladder to remove the cover. I climbed after him, stopping halfway as he lifted off the iron lid. Fresh winter air reached me on the ladder, lights from the city brightening up the dark underground that surrounded me. I felt a chill run through my body when cold snow landed on my head and shoulders, dropping from the surface as Raph got up on solid ground.

I hurried up the ladder, finding Raphael already halfway up a fire escape in the secluded alley. I spun around to move the heavy manhole cover back in its place, the cold steel hurting my fingers as I clutched it.

I quickly turned to follow him, climbing towards the roof of the eight story high apartment building.

I rushed to catch up with Raph as he ran on the snow-covered rooftop, leaping through the chilly air as he landed on the building across the alley. I tried to focus on the icy rooftops, paying a little extra attention to my slippery surroundings as I stomped off against the edge of the building to land on another one. I hoped to myself Raph was doing the same thing, although I knew he had other things on his mind.

By heart, both of us knew where we were heading. We knew our brothers and knew which way they would be coming, when returning from their patrol. It was only a matter of time until we reached them.

Deviating sounds caught my attention further ahead, noises that stood out from the occasional car engines and drunken voices that dressed the New York City night. We both knew they were sounds of a struggle on a rooftop nearby, and we both knew our little brothers were at the scene.

Naturally, we both ran faster.

The closer we got, the louder became the noises; cries of war, weapon striking against weapon, rapid feet running across the cold blanket of the building and panting following afterwards. It didn't take long for us to reach them, discovering our two brothers standing their ground against a flock of Saki's ninjas, outnumbering them with almost twenty men per turtle.

Every time a warrior fell, another stepped up in its place.

Neither Don or Mike seemed to have the strength to hold their stand against the black clad hoard much longer. They could certainly use our help, to even the scores a bit.

Raph quickly found his place in the chaos, embedding his sais into the stomachs of two Foot members as soon as he reached up to them. Donatello and Mikey instantly noticed his presence and visibly lit up, hope rising inside of them, now that the quartet was gathered.

After pulling back his bloody sais, causing the two bodies to collapse in the snow, Raph quickly moved on to kicking the one that snuck up behind him, crushing his jaw with the heel of his foot.

It was certainly beginning to look up for our team, now that reinforcement had arrived.

I jumped off the rooftop - using the muscles in my legs to push myself off the concrete surface - and landed on the building that held my three brothers, eleven stories above the city that knew nothing, nor did it care.

Deciding to be offensive, rather than wait for one of Shredder's men to attack me, I rushed up to Michelangelo, to help out with the group he'd been battling on his own. He offered me a quick smile of gratitude before the both of us were forced to focus our attention on the ninjas that surrounded us.

I swung one of my blades through the air, slicing an unfortunate man's abdomen open. He clutched his stomach in pain, trying to withhold the blood that quickly emptied him on life.

Negligible, the warrior toppled over, facing downwards as his blood spilled on to the snow, quickly spreading across the white surface like a red carpet underneath his body.

I wasted no time in watching him, as two other ninjas attacked in his place, coming from each side of me. I easily used a split kick to knock them unconscious, the both of them flying backwards at the powerful force. Once again landing in the cold snow with my already numb, bare feet, I turned to the guy at my left, who held a single katana ready in his grip. Like the most of Shredder's ninjas, he made the first move to attack, his blade coming down at me in a vertical angle. I quickly blocked his attack with the both of my swords, held in front of me in the shape of an x, his steel clinking against my blades as they collided.

He was strong, and much larger than myself as he with brutal force leaned over me, trying to wear me down with the weight he channelled into the weapon. I felt the muscles in my arms contracting, forcing me to take a step back to hold my balance.

Peeking through his black mask, with his eyes meeting mine, I heard him hiss through his teeth, his strength obviously wavering as his arms began to shake with small but regular vibrations.

Taking advantage of his tiredness, I quickly broke our contact and moved aside to the left, kicking him in the abdomen as he fell over because of the sudden lack of resistance. After a short huff of air escaped his lips, the man clutched his stomach, unaware of his sharp katana as he hit the ground in fetal position. By accident, the blade cut into his side, splitting his torso open.

He was dead before his blood seeped out from the gaping wound, his sword having punctured both his heart and lungs.

Having taken out four ninjas from Mikey's list, I moved away from my brother, charging on those who flocked around Raph. With my back turned to Donnie and Mike, I failed to see the solider that came from behind me, and even though I managed to catch the sound of his feet taking force as he jumped off the snowy rooftop, I wasn't able to move fast enough.

Halfway turned towards my enemy, he forced both his legs into my right side, sending me flying.

I collided hard with the ground, my left arm caught underneath my body once landing. Hearing something crack, I gritted my teeth, inwardly kicking myself for turning my back and leaving myself open to his ambush. Within a second I turned to retrieve my swords, which I on purpose had tossed aside to avoid landing on.

I was quickly on my feet to meet his next move and, even though my left arm burned from the impact, I readied myself with my twin katana in front of me, eyes locked on the smug attacker.

Having had the pleasure of beating me once, the bold ninja took the chance to charge at me a second time, pride clouding his judgement as he attacked me with his nagitana, the sharp blade on the edge of the staff pointed at me.

This time ready for him, I managed to duck just enough for the knife to miss me, giving me the chance to strike back.

Once down in my crouched position, I noticed the ninja Michelangelo fought managed to place a kick to his chest, sending him flying backwards. His speed was halted once he with cruel force collided with a cement wall, one that was built around a locked door that reached up to the rooftop, like on many other apartment buildings in Manhattan.

Once the back of his head was slammed into the concrete, he instantly fell unconscious, his chucks dropping at his sides.

His attacker fast approached him, his spear ready in his hands as he did.

Quickly, to save my youngest brother, I spun a low kick on my opponent, pulling out his legs from underneath him. He fell hard on his face, losing the grip of his nagitana; the staff quickly burying itself in the snow a safe distance away from him.

With one last move to finish him off, I penetrated his exposed back with my katana, using my good arm. But after drawing back my sword and turning my attention back to Mike, I immediately noticed another ninja as he charged at the unsuspecting back of Donatello, a katana ready to strike in his hands.

Don was busy battling another ninja, wielding his bo in the air as his attacker closed in on him from behind.

In that moment, I felt time and everything around me freeze. All sounds ceased, drowned, as if my ears were buried underneath the pressure of two soundproof pillows. The attackers were travelling in slow-motion as they moved in on my little brothers, the both of them incapable of defending themselves.

I knew I had to act, if I was to save either one of my siblings.

I was never a person to run away from my problems, yet this time I felt like running to the point where I couldn't breathe and my legs couldn't carry me any farther. I was living one of my many nightmares, facing what I had feared all this time.

I had to make a choice.

Don or Mikey? Mikey or Don? Both of their lives were at stake, both at the same time.

Paralyzed, crippled by my own fear, I managed to do nothing but watch as the two killers rose their weapons at my brothers. I had gone completely out of function, disconnected. Even my voice was lost to me. All I could do was stand there - with all the cards on my hands - and watch.

Then suddenly, like lightening striking earth in a flash-second, time sped up again, the noises of my environment returning to my senses with an unbearable force.

"DONNIE!"