Part Two: - Dreams of Nightmares -

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I don't think much about the logical explanation of things, that's Donny's job, but sometimes, it just rakes my brain.

When I meditate, do the things I see- are they considered dreams, or hazy thoughts, expertly woven together into my subconscious?

I remember I laid still, warmth enveloping me, and I felt relaxed physically, yet wearily emotionally. I was still very worried about my brother, afraid that I will lose him, sooner if not later, and somehow, remembering that he had not woken up yet, increased my anxiety. I knew that, in God's will, he will wake up in due time, if it's destined for him to stay among the living, that this is a test of patience, and I do hope Raph would hurry and wake up, because I cant think of how empty my life will be without him around.

I don't like sitting around with nothing to do, just watching him lay there, breathing.

I think, that's when it first started, or maybe it was when my imagination started, as I lay motionless, my head resting on a soft, yet hard pillow; I suspect I'm laying my head on Mike's lap, it explains why it's so warm.

There was giggling, the soft giggling of a child, and I opened my eyes.

Surrounded by darkness, I stiffened, uneasy and cautious at the change of surroundings, but then, little by little, things started becoming more pronounced, more detailed and clearer. It appears that, I was dream walking in my subconscious.

To my surprise, I saw myself sitting on a futon, a blanket wrinkled on my lap, and I wondered when I had gotten up. I paused, gazing around my new surroundings, and to my shock, I saw my bedding, positioned in the old lair.

It was the old lair, the one I've spent most of my childhood in, with my dear brothers and father.

For a brief moment I was confused, until the giggling returned. It almost sounded like them childish, innocent giggling, like those giggles you'd hear in children commercials, but this one sounded honest, very happy and highly bemused, and it made me wonder.

Getting out of bed, I furrowed, confused; my body felt- weightless, almost as if it carried no mass, like a feather, or- perhaps, like the wind? It felt like there was no body, just a ghostly figure of some sort.

I look at my hands, and saw that they were weaving like a mirage, not exactly transparent, before they become solid and real.

The giggling returned, and I furrowed. I looked up, and across the old lair, startled at the fact that- there was not a thing out of place, it looked just fine, like how it had always been, long before Stockman's mousers had eaten their way through the walls and support beams. The floor was clean, the lights were on, and everything was neatly in place.

There was the giggling once more.

I twirled around, and froze.

There was a tiny turtle tot sitting on the short legged coffee table, barely more than seven or eight years of age, swinging his somewhat-chubby legs childishly, cutely and sweetly, he was grinning widely at me, his cheeks tight with the grin on his face, as he squared his shoulders a little, giggling happily again, trying to suppress his laughter, if only a little, but wit no success; his brilliant, bright, chocolate brown eyes were slightly hazed in honey, golden brown, a glint of pure innocence was shining through them.

I would have sworn it was Mikey, if only it had not been for the brightly colored, red mask tied on his head.

Everything was oddly in a shade of yellowish orange, almost as if it were a picture from those old movies, the colors were faded, sun burned, they were darker, almost dusty, and some corners of the room were shadowed, lingering in blackness. Except for me, I still carried my natural colors of blue and bright green, my presence somewhat clashed the discolored, faded atmosphere of this room.

The blackness was like patches, holes scattered in a few places. How strange.

I realized, right at that moment, the black patches were scattered in a few unlikely spots, spots I could not remember what was there, or what it had once looked like. This place, I think- it was a scene from my memory, and the black spots were the things I could not remember, they were the gapping holes, indicating that I had no memory of the said black, missing spot.

Raph giggled again, hopping off the table, landing harmlessly and gracefully on his two feet, arms outstretched, as if balancing himself, he then dropped them to his side, still grinning happily, before he sealed his lips, covering his previous, toothy grin.

I watched him for a moment, rooted to the spot, I realized that the bed below me was gone, and I was suddenly standing in the living room.

The child, my brother, his happy face calmed down into what I would- disturbingly- call a serious expression, it's a face that does not fit with a child; but I pushed the idea away, when he reached out his hands to me, his tiny hands, with his tiny stubby, baby fingers spread out, a silent request for me to take his hand, and I, for a very long moment, hesitated.

His expression shifted slightly to sadness, as his hands slowly and hesitantly started dropping back to his side, his spread out fingers curled, balling into a fist. I refused to move, I just eyed him wearily, before he lifted both his hands again, a pleading look in his glassy, sad eyes, he didn't move from his spot, he just gestured with his arms, looking like a child, begging his parent for a shoulder ride, or to be carried.

I weren't sure what to think, after all, this is a tiny Raphael we're talking about, and Raph had never been the one asking for attention. I frowned in thought; then again, this is only a child, so maybe, psychologically, he was different back then?

It took me a moment, before my legs did as requested, hesitantly and cautiously moving, shuffling silently over the floor. It felt as if I were walking on water, there was a cold, feather-light sensation tingling in my toes and the soles of my feet, but I ignored them, when the child's lips revealed that merry, adorable little grin, a twinkle shined in his eyes again as I drew closer.

I hid a smirk, wondering if Raph had always looked this adorable when little. 'If so, then he sure would have taken over Mike's post as the cutest.' I let my lips draw away from my teeth and I grinned slightly.

I stood right in front of him, there was barely a foot or two between us, and it amazed me just- how big his grin was, and how happy he appeared, he was just so freakin' adorable!

I grinned wider in bemusement, when I clasped my hands on his sides, pulling him up, harmlessly tossing him into a little up the air, and then having him land into the curve of my arms. Surprisingly, he squealed joyously at the air tossing motion, giggling and laughing again a little louder, his tiny arms wrapped around my neck, he pressed his tiny snout against the side of my head, happy in a fit of giggles again.

It felt weird, in a comfortable kind of way, having a tiny Raphael in my arms, giggling and laughing so innocently, and when his tiny snout pressed against the side of my face, his tiny lips kissing my cheek, I was startled.

Logically, it was impossible, so I knew I must be in a dream or something.

A rather realistic dream; to say the least.

I felt his warmth, in my arms, I heard his giggling, jingling like silver bells into my ears, and I couldn't hide my smile, he was just so darn adorable! His cuteness could best Mike's any day of the week!

I felt a strange, bubbling notion inside of my, and I liked it, it was very warm, it felt like- well, you know the sensation you get, after a long day at work, or a battle, whichever comes first, when you come back home sore, grouchy and tired, you step into the shower, all your worries are washed away, the minute the hot water starts running down your body? Yeah, it was something pretty much like that.

After a moment, the giggling stopped, and I felt his hot breath against my throat, so I figured he needed to breath.

I felt the tiny snout nuzzle my neck, slowly, almost sleepily, it felt- comforting, very comfortable, I liked it. I nuzzled him, and he emit a tiny squeal, his tiny hands touching about my neck and collar bone, giggling shyly, before he slowly, if not timidly, pushed himself sitting up, nestled in my arms. He peered up at me cutely, his brown, honey-golden tinted eyes peered out at me, and I smiled.

The bubbling sensation strengthened, it thickened, growing more obvious in my chest, spreading across my ribcage, and I grinned wider. I nuzzled his forehead, before pressing my lips gently on his temple, kissing. In response, he giggled once more time, his eyes squeezed tight as his grin threatened to split his plumping cheeks in half; his cheeks had oddly colored slightly, expressing his feelings out loud to me.

Somehow, I felt were no words needed, and I think this tiny child already knew, that's why he never spoke out to me. His body language and simple, childish gestures were enough to inform me of what he wanted to say.

I moved a hand, balancing him on one arm, curled and pressed gently against my plastron, my free hand now reached up to cup his cheek, and his smile widened, when we nuzzled, snout to snout. His tiny hands cupped my cheeks, and then slid down and his arms curled around my neck, as he tucked his head under my chin, happily smiling.

I closed my eyes for a brief moment, cuddling him in my arms.

After a moment, the silence that settled was disturbed, as he slowly pushed up, eyeing me quietly, a sweet little smile on his face, he wriggled his feet, and I understood the motion, and let him down. Once on his feet, he never gave me the chance to stand upright again, because he gripped my hand, or a finger actually, with his tiny palms, grinning widely, tugging as urgently as a child could, trying to lead me elsewhere.

I smiled, a little confused, hunched up, and allowed him to lead me away.

I was a little more confused when he guided me towards the bedroom.

He stood still for a moment, before releasing my hand, he gave me a weary look, before venturing ahead of me, and I frowned a bit. He had walked into a shadowed spot in the room, probably a corner or such I did not remember, but I could tell from his movement, he was trying to prey something off the wall, or at least, I think it's the wall. He squatted down and fidgeted with something, and I wondered if I ought to help him, but before I could, he got up, holding a little brick in his hands, he then gestured to the tiny opening he made, and I took a peek.

I was startled to see four notebooks in there, and on top of them, was a paper crane and a short pencil.

I blinked and frowned, a little confused.

I was even more confused when I turned to look at him, because all too suddenly, he had grown older, looking a little something between eleven and thirteen. He, now, had the elbow and kneepads on, and the innocent glint in his eyes was gone, he was slightly frowning, looking a bit upset, yet looking more familiar with his adult personality.

He placed the brick on the floor, and then reached into the hole in the wall, retrieving the notebooks, pencil and paper crane, but there was a rather guilty and ashamed scowl on his face, as if he weren't pleased with these items. He turned to look at me again, and then extended the books, horizontally so the crane won't fall off, timidly offering them to me, and I reluctantly accepted.

I blinked at the tiny crane, it reminded me of the glossed one Donny had on his workbench, one of the very few things that had survived the lair's destruction by a miracle! Don even claimed that thing was defiantly a sign of good luck, because he also claimed that it, amazingly, had survived the old lair's destruction as well, when the mousers tore our old home down.

I wondered if Raph was the one who made it.

Raph had always been the best with crafting, so I really wouldn't be surprised, origami had been one of his pastime hobbies when we were little, even if Sensei did lecture him, telling him that as lovely as it was, it was sometimes a waste of valuable paper.

I released a breath that felt awful tight in my cooling lungs, I didn't like it. Glancing at the young turtle in front of me, I took note his expression had somewhat hardened, making him look older than he seemed.

I didn't like it, even if it did resemble the Raphael I knew.

Hesitantly, I settled on the cool, concert floor, picked up the crane, and then looked at him with a smile. He perked a bit, before setting on the floor opposite of me, a moment passed, before he reached out both arms, his hands side by side, as if expecting a treat, and I understood the gesture. I placed the paper crane in his hands, and he smiled, almost sadly, nodding his head.

I glanced back at the four notebooks, but before I could even start reading, I felt something like a dizzy spell come over me, so I squeezed my eyes shut, I put the books on the floor to hold my head, waiting for a moment as a wave of nausea passed by. Seconds ticked by, before I opened my eyes again, and I stared, still sitting on the ground, but no longer in our bedroom.

I was at the Elentian lair, the stronghold, sitting on Raph's bedroom floor.

He was fifteen years old now, but he only had his equipment and weapons on, but no mask.

Raph was sitting on his workout bench, his mask clutched in one hand, and a single lightweight barbell in the other, moving it up and down, and I watched in mild interest as his arm muscles flattened and bulged with his workout. I blinked once, eyeing him wearily, and he spared me a strange, sad smile. What startled me the most, was the fact that there was no shine or luster in his eyes, they were just a pair of dark brown pupils.

Putting down the weight, he got up, pushing himself slowly, with an audible grunt, off the workbench, he strolled casually towards his hammock, and to my surprised, he pressed his hand on a certain odd-colored brick, and the one below it popped part way out, he gripped the lower brick and pulled it all the way out, revealing yet another safe-like opening, except this one only had one notebook, a newly sharpened pencil and two paper cranes.

He put the brick down and took out the notebook, careful so the cranes won't slide off.

He turned to me, and I froze.

Though on his face was the softest, kindhearted sweetest smile I have ever seen him produce, I also saw a single tear trickle down one side of his face, rich and drizzling it's heavy way down across his cheek, dangling lazily at the tip of his chin, before releasing the skin, dropping down and hitting the floor with the faintest pat, disturbing the dust that gathered there, causing it to go up, if only faintly, forming into a small cloud.

What scared me the most about that tear drop, it was not crystal clear, it was ruby red!

He walked towards me, he placed the notebook on the floor, then put the crane and mask on top of it, before settling in front of me, that sad smile still curved at the corners of his mouth.

I looked at him, and fear gripped my heart.

He smiled, just a little wider, more tears trickled down and he nodded.

I looked down at the notebook, and like before, I picked them up, eyeing the two paper cranes for a moment, before a sense of nostalgia washed over me again, and when I looked at him, he reached out one hand, and I swallowed.

I placed the two cranes in his hand, and he nodded, smiling just a little wider.

Again, I picked up the notebook, but as I skimmed through, a wave of nausea washed over me, and everything was black.

It was utter and complete silence, swallowed and surrounded my sheer, pitch blackness.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N Hmm…