Raphael's viewpoint:

There was a lot of things that I sucked at doing. Being polite was one. Lying to my brothers was another. The moment the words had spilled from my big stupid mouth, Donny had stopped his crazy scramble to turn and stare at me.

Now, a lot of it was the truth. My arm was hurting like hell. It wasn't much of an act for me to show I was hurting, even if I wasn't sobbing on my ass or howling on the floor like a kid throwing a tantrum. My fingers kept locking up in a spasm, that rubbed the busted tendon and bones together, and I couldn't stop or uncurl my hand with a lot of effort.

I also know that I wasn't up for a fight, for running, or anything other than laying down and dying at the moment. I also knew that I wasn't going to slow my brothers or father down because I couldn't run. I wasn't going to let them fall behind and get caught because of me.

And then, the sick, desperate thought exploded into my brain.

If I got caught, I would probably be butchered and killed. But, Karai just might be sweet and take me to Leo before she slit my throat or whatever she planned on doing. Whatever was happening to my brother, Leo was still alive, and alone. I couldn't leave him to face Karai alone. I couldn't leave him there to rot. When I saw Donny's face, crumpled with worry and Mikey's eyes nearly spilling with tears, I only thought of Leo's finality, the surrender on the camera,, and my stab wound throbbed again.

I couldn't leave him to die, or face down Karai alone.

I was still woozy and sick from blood loss, pain, and now this latest happy news about us having to vacate the Lair. Hearing Leo's voice, the words strangled as if he were forcing the words out, seeing that dark, dead resolve in his eyes, and the way that he had flung the last warning before he had disappeared when the screen went black.

Leo didn't look like somebody who was fearful, or hurting. He looked like somebody who knew that their time was dwindling, and he had no plans on seeing us again.

I wanted to put my sai through the screen. I wanted to howl at Leo for being such a self-sacrificing, vicious martyr. I wanted to punch him with my good hand and ask him straight up, if he meant it when he had sliced my wrist with my own weapon. If he had stood over me and snarled out that he wanted me dead, if he meant it. I was scared to know the answer. I was also scared that I would never get the chance to ask the question.

That was why I was slumping against the wall, watching my brothers frantically running around, tossing a bunch of crap together to make our great escape.

Splinter was tense and rigid, as if expecting footsteps and explosions to erupt in any moment. Mikey was teary and kept glancing around like a mouse under a circling hawk. And Donny was calmly mentally checking off whatever junk we need for the quickest evacuation from the Lair.

What a hell of a situation. Here we were, in what could be our own graves, just waiting to be killed and shoved in for eternity.

"I ain't going anywhere. I can't."

Donny was already at my side, gently uncurling my wrist, sliding fingers over the bandages, as Mikey came over and tried to drag my good arm over his shell. He was trying to prop me up, and it seemed so damn wrong.

"I ain't going anywhere. I can't."

I slurred the words out, as I tried to shove Mikey away and yank my arm away from Donny's hands. What in the hell were they going to do, just drag me out?

The question gummed up in my brain, sort of like dried oil against unmoving gears as I bent back against the wall, and slumped there again.

By then, the panic was rising and swelling like a riptide, flooding everything with fear. I could see it in Splinter's yellow eyes as he flicked his ears towards the ceiling. I could see it in Mikey's little choking gasps, and Donny's fumbling words as he nearly roared at me to get going.

"Damn it, Raph." Donny snarled at me, his normally soft voice vicious and sharp as he nearly dragged me to my feet.

"Let me see your arm. Maybe I can patch it up or something, but unless you are in such excruciating pain that you absolutely can't move, we need to go, now."

I blew out the breath I held between my clenched teeth before I growled back, "That's what I'm saying, Donny. Get going."

And Donny narrowed his normally gentle eyes, and thinned his lips into a grim, angry line.

"We're not leaving you here." Don said quietly. "We're not. Get that through your head, Raph, and come on."

By then, the wounds were throbbing, and I heard Splinter draw a breath and hiss, "My sons, be silent! "

He whipped a paw in the air, ears flickering forward, as he whispered, "We have waited too long. Come, now!"

And that was when all hell broke loose. Literally.

I don't remember much of what happened next. I heard this thundering, electric humming that seemed to crescendo against the far wall, a second of long, weird silence, and then, the explosion.

I saw the brick wall suddenly burst open, fragments of cartwheeling stone and concrete shooting out like a geyser, as the huge, gaping hole appeared. I remember Mikey's scream, and Donny's squawk of dismay as both of them were knocked off their feet and sent tumbling down to the pile of smoldering ash that had been the door of our home. Splinter only had time to whisper before he was tossed into the air, and crashed into the back of the Lair.

I remember flying a few bewildering moments, the weird feeling of empty air as my fingers flew open and I tried hard to claw my way back to my brothers. I remember screaming as my hands clenched into fists and the falling. And then, fire, vicious heat, rolling over like a wave. Was I going to burn to death? Where the hell were my brothers? I felt the heavy black come over me like a blanket, and for all I knew, I was either asleep, or dead.

Leo's viewpoint:

Of all the tortures that Karai could have concocted, the helpless, crawling hours that Leo had spent strapped down and helpless in that white room was remarkably effective. The hellish white glow of those unyielding overhead bulbs washed over the pristine steel of the cabinets, the neat steel buckles that kept Leo's wrist and ankles tethered to the table.

Leo was starting to hate the table, as well. Karai's vicious words rose like a ghost in the sterile silence. She had spit out that he was in a morgue. Leo nearly choked back the vomit to imagine the dead bodies that had been laid out on the table he was now sprawled across. It made him sick, and he shook his head to clear it, shifting his focus once more to the discomfort. The curve of his shell made it impossible for him to lay on his back for long, and the awkward angle was only compounding his misery.

Leo grunted as he twisted his wrists against the leather, and let his hands flop back again. Before, he had attempted to wrench himself free, and only succeeded in making his limbs raw and bloodied. Now, he wriggled his wrists and ankles to keep them from going numb.

He might have been chained to this metal table for hours or days, he had no way of knowing. After the unpleasant exchange with Karai, she had only leaned over him, and draped a mocking hand over his sweat-soaked bandana, and graced him with another mocking smirk.

She had silently glided out, leaving Leo alone again.

Leo had spent a great deal of the time scanning the room for weaknesses, trying to map out some sort of escape, anything.

All he got for his troubles was the renewed agony of realizing how helpless he was again, and the unrelenting terror for his family. He had sacrificed himself willingly to keep them all safe and above ground. Karai, however, had little incentive to keep his family alive, or Leo for that matter.

Leo shivered again. Karai would never show him the mercy of a quick kill, not if she could draw out a long and tortured exit.

Leo slumped again, and shifted the few inches the straps allowed. He had at least warned his family. He had bought them time to flee. He had saved them, as much as he could. He closed his eyes, slowed his breathing, and pictured Splinter and his brothers together, unharmed, free, and far away from here.

Karai wouldn't squander another chance to torture him by secretly capturing any of them. No, she'd threaten and flaunt and wound. Karai would be cruel, and dump a bloodied body at his feet, or parade another one of his brothers before him in chains. The one thing Karai would not do would be to keep it quiet.

Leo got a bitter bit of comfort from that thought.

Meanwhile, time continued its slow, broken-footed crawl, and Leo was left to rot and die for all he knew.

He shut his eyes, trying to drift back into the solace of memory and dreams of a kinder place.

His slumbering thoughts were interrupted by the abrupt click of the door. With the silence of the room, it was as loud as a gunshot.

Leo's head shot up in alarm, as the door quietly opened, and more of the nameless, faceless white coats silently entered.

They ignored Leo, not even sparing him a glance, even as he bellowed at them for answers, forgetting his vow not to speak. It was infuriating to have them pay him the same attention that they would a corpse.

The dread curled in his gut as they rolled in a television on a battered metal cart. He stared as they positioned the cart directly in his eyesight, making no attempt to hide anything. One of them uncoiled a loop of cords that she plugged into some unseen outlet, while a man fiddled with the dials until the screen flickered to life.

Satisfied that their work was accomplished, they exited the room as quietly as they had entered. One of them paused in front of Leo with a mocking bow.

"Mistress Karai thought that you would enjoy some entertainment."

She ignored Leo's snarl, and left him without a second glance.

The door closed just as quietly and Leo was left alone with nothing but the television.

The picture quality was bad, he could make out nothing but sepia hues and blurs. Finally, the grainy picture was refocused enough for him to actually make out something recognizable. He couldn't hear anything but smeared mumbling.

The arching ceiling of bricks that formed the Lair's 'living room' came into view. He gasped when he saw Raphael, hunched against the wall, his injured wrist curled over his plastron, and his face contorted in a snarl. Leo could tell by his brother's stiff posture that Raphael was arguing with somebody. Donny was gesturing towards Raph's injured arm, and pointing towards the tunnel at the far end, that formed their "front door."

Raphael was shaking his head, with a wince, and Leo could see the pained curl of his mouth, even as he lurched backwards from Donny's gentle, insistent hands.

Mikey was wildly waving his arms and pointing towards the door, and Splinter clapped his paws together, bringing them all to attention.

He must have ordered his sons to shut up and move, because Mikey, and Donny quickly followed him.

Raphael was still huddled against the wall, refusing to move.

The guilt unspooled itself, grew teeth and bit down at Leo's very core. Raphael would never forgive him for what he had done to him, even if Leo lived to explain the hellish desperation, and the terror that drove him to put a blade through him. It was better than letting them die. It had to be.

Raphael was still leaning against the wall, and refusing to move, and Leo could see Donny's nearly frantic attempt to bodily drag his stubborn sibling forth.

Raphael yanked his good arm free with a growl and roared out something. Leo found himself perversely grateful that there was no sound to hear. By then, Splinter had intervened, gently nudging Donny away, and calmly taking Raphael's good hand between his own.

Leo flinched at the sudden pop of the audio suddenly recoiling with a sharp hiss, and the screen descending into white static. His brothers and father were replaced by the blindingly white screen. Leo never knew that the camera malfunction was from their lenses being shattered in the firestorm of his home burning.