Series Title: Always

Chapter Title: Faith

Author: (travelingstorm)

Rating: Part 1 -PG13, NC17 overall

Word Count (fic portion) Chapter 1: 3257

Warnings: This is a DARK DARK ANGSTY TORTURE AND MORE! Lots of not-so-nice details, including Bishop, turtle-torture, drugs, psychological problems and even more unspeakable acts that will be NOT be labeled for fear of giving the whole plot away. There WILL be a happy ending (eventually) but the road from here to there is going to be long and painful.

Notes: This is an 11 part story, with each section falling under a different theme in LJ's fanfic100 community, character: Michaelangelo. This is chapter three, theme 34: Not Enough.

Additional Notes: I think I'd better make something clear. What my characters think, is NOT what I think. In 'Protective Instincts' I made Mikey against neutering his cat – I fully and firmly believe in spaying and neutering ALL animals save for professional (not backyard) breeders. In this fic, Mikey saying over and over again 'it's wrong, it's wrong' has almost nothing to do with homosexuality/homophobia (as a slash/yaoi fangirl, it'd be pretty weird of me to make a character homophobic) in general. He's referring to the fact that someone he considers family, a sibling, is performing a painful act on him against his will. Approached differently, whose to say he wouldn't welcome an advance from Raphael? I don't know. YOU don't know. It's not a guarantee that they're related, after all. This may not be a case of incest at all. But it's the shock, the suddenness, the fact that he DOES look at Raph as a sibling (as he's never had any reason to think otherwise before) and the whole situation in general that he's protesting against.

Many of you seem to be enjoying this fic (well, as much as we can, considering what Mikey's being put through... my poor baby), and I thank you for reading it. Now, let's get on with it.

ooo...000...ooo

"Down this way!" Leo shouted, pointing with his katana blade. Behind him, Donatello and Master Splinter took out the small group of guards that had come around the corner of the hallway. At the back of the group, Casey was swinging his baseball bat with great enthusiasm, nearly hitting April who reached over and smacked him upside the head in mid-stride.

"Watch it, Casey!"

"Sorry, April."

"Move," Leonardo growled as they raced down the metal-lined corridors. More troopers were coming, and while Donnie had used his laptop that April had brought along to hack in and take control over the security system, it was only a temporary fix. They needed to move faster.

Leonardo cursorily scanned the rooms they passed, leaving the others behind him to do more thorough searches (like, actually looking inside, for one). His mind was fixated on his brothers, and to a lesser extent, Leatherhead. All of them had been captured by Bishop during a recent battle with the scientist who had wanted them taken alive, and Leo had been taken out by a sedative dart.

The attack had been completely unexpected. Leatherhead, Donnie and the Professor had needed to visit the junkyard for parts for their latest experiments in Leatherhead's makeshift laboratory. Mikey, Raph and Leo had gone alone, citing safety in numbers. After all, it hadn't been that long since they'd all been imprisoned by Bishop. If Master Splinter, April and Casey hadn't mounted another rescue expedition and broken Professor Honeycut, himself and Donatello free...

Leo paused, squeezing his eyes shut for a brief second, collecting his thoughts. He was not supposed to be focusing on past memories – he was supposed to be committed to the task at hand. Mikey had been taken away from their group first. Raphael and Leatherhead had been tranquilized by armed guards and moved at the same time, but none of them had any idea where. Leonardo hoped that wherever they were, they were together, not only to make rescuing them easier, but so they could provide comfort to each other as well. He silently blessed the fact that their weapons had been sloppily stored in an unlocked compartment in the lab they were being held in. Mikey's chucks were in the bag April had brought for Donnie, and Leo had stuck Raph's sais in his own belt for safekeeping.

Sounds of running footsteps echoed off the metal plating that made up the floor, and Leonardo's eyes slitted open. Withdrawing his katanas, he waited until the shadows appeared on the wall and then struck. The first man flew backwards, knocking down two others. Leonardo didn't hesitate; he moved forward, striking with the flat side of his blade. Angry as he was, he nonetheless retained the knowledge that these men, misguided as they were, were simply soldiers following orders. They were not attacking them for reasons of revenge and personal vendetta's but as a response to a security alert, and thus did not deserve death from him.

Unconsciousness, however...

Behind him Donatello was typing as he moved, trying to track down his missing siblings and fellow scientist. At his side, Professor Honeycut was offering advice, trying to keep pace with him as he linked his finger to the laptop, helping to coordinate the on-line search of the base. It was harder then it sounded.

"Leo! Leo, we need to stop for a minute!" Donatello called out to his brother, eyes still on the laptop screen. "I need to figure this out."

"We can't stop," Leo said tersely. "Did you not notice all the bad men with the shiny guns?"

"Your sarcasm is duly noted. Two minutes," Don said, and dropped to the floor, typing furiously. Professor Honeycut sat beside him, still linked, doing his best to expedite Donnie's progress through the various base firewalls. "Then we can go straight to them instead of charging like a blind rhino."

Leonardo twitched, but then nodded, reigning in the impulse to move. He stood by the corridor, blades at the ready. April, Casey and Splinter spread out behind them, watching the linking corridors. "Quickly, Donnie."

"Yeah, yeah, no pressure or anything." Donatello muttered. His fingers flew over the keyboard. Suddenly Professor Honeycut let an exclamation. "Professor!"

"The password is X923bishop-prtcl," the robot said happily. "I discovered it quite by accident when scanning some older archives. Someone must have written it down and neglected to delete it later."

Donatello grinned and went to work. A minute later, he had the coordinates of experiment Orange-A1, Red-A2 and Croc-B1, being held in one of the subbasements. Twenty seconds more, and he had directions. "Got it! Leo, we need to go down!"

"Wonderful," Leo said, watching as a far door slid open revealing the khaki uniforms of more armed guards. "Any ideas?

"As a matter of fact..." Donatello smirked. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a small black object, setting it on the ground. "Get back!"

Leonardo back flipped over Donnie and moved back with them. The approaching soldiers drew closer. Two opened fire, and everyone ducked. Donnie pulled a shuriken out of his belt and snapped his wrist, sending it whipping through the air. It struck the circular device and it blew up, in a surprisingly controlled explosion. Debris rained down on them, but they had been well away from the blast radius. The approaching soldiers had not been so fortunate. Many of them lay unconscious, a few moaning feebly from the blast. Donatello gave them a quick look as they headed for the hole in the floor, and was gratified to see no missing limbs among them. Just a lot of bumps, bruises and possible concussions.

"Donnie! Move it!"

April, Casey, the professor and Master Splinter had already leaped down below. Leonardo stood guard over the hole, glaring at him. Donnie grinned sheepishly, and rushed over. Leo let him jump first before immediately following.

"Where to now?"

Donatello checked his laptop again. "This way," he said, pointing down a side corridor. Leonardo nodded and took point as they went on the move.

---

Mikey opened his eyes and groaned. Pain spiked through his head, and stars were still weaving in and out of his field of vision, but the lethargy seemed to be gone from his limbs. Slowly, he raised his hand, surprised and almost childishly pleased when it obeyed his unspoken command. Still a bit dizzy, he nonetheless felt much more clear-headed than he did the last time he woke--

Mikey's eyes widened in shock and he bolted upright. Instantly, more pain blossomed all over his body, particularly lower down...Oh my god. It was real. It was all real.

A sudden sound caught his ears, and he looked down beside him. Raphael was curled up in a small ball, facing the wall. He was covered in blood and other...oh. Mikey winced. Physical reminders of everything that happened were all over the place.

His body suddenly wracked with tremors, Mikey instinctively drew his legs up, ignoring the flash of sharp pain the movement caused, wrapping his arms around his legs tightly. It had really happened. His brother had...

He swallowed hard. He knew the technical term for it, but 'rape' to him implied acting with intent. No matter what, no matter how much he pissed off his brother, there was no way he could ever have done something like this knowingly.

Knowing that didn't make it easier to take. Mikey covered his eyes, still shaking. What on earth was he supposed to do? Did Raph know? Would he ever? He had to wake up Raphael and find out if...he... Mikey shook his head violently, and abruptly pushed himself away from his sleeping brother. He didn't to wake him. What if the drug was still in his system? Would he...and Mikey would have to let him, right? Or he'd turn on himself and no matter what, he didn't want to see Raphael dead...

A low moan escaped him, and he immediately clamped his hands over his mouth, swallowing the cries threatening to emerge from his throat. Risking a glance over, he saw Raph's face had smoothed out in sleep, making him look remarkably young and innocent. Such a stark contrast to the indifferent, frozen mask from...before. Fighting back helpless tears, Mikey wrapped his arms around himself, feeling cold.

"There was nothing I could do," he muttered feverishly. "Nothing I could do. It's not his fault. I chose this."

His eyes widened. He had chosen this. Raph was here because of his choice. And Mikey had made the additional choice to...

But he had to! He had been too weak to fight back, too injured, and if Raph couldn't find his...relief with Mikey (which, he reflected ruefully, was a very poor choice of words), then he would have turned on himself. Mikey couldn't recall all of the conversation held in his supposedly unconscious presence, but he did remember the man saying something about self-mutilation with no target.

Well, he'd definitely been the target. Mikey sniffled, reaching up and rubbing his wrist band roughly across his eyes. He had done what was needed, made the necessary sacrifice to protect his brother. Deliberately, he shoved the traitorous memories of reluctant pleasure that tried to surface, to the bottom of his mind.

Raph muttered and shifted in his sleep, and Mikey froze. His brother yawned, opening bleary eyes and looking at Mikey, with groggy confusion. "...M'key?"

Michaelangelo breathed out slowly, trying to calm the frantic beating of his heart. There was awareness in those eyes, and Raph's pupils were back to normal size. "R-Raph?"

Raph's eyes were sliding shut again. "Y'kay?"

Mikey's mouth opened and closed several times, as he tried to decide what to say. "I'm...okay," he said finally, forcing himself to believe it. "We're both...okay."

"'Kay," he slurred out and fell back into unconsciousness. A delayed reaction. Mikey shuddered harder in the aftermath of that conversation than he had before it. For a second, he thought he was going to have to...endure another...session.

"Not his fault," he repeated softly, rubbing his temples hard. The scent of himself finally caught up to him, and he opened his eyes, looking down at the filth encrusted all over his body. The sight, the smell – it prompted a wave of memories in complete Technicolor and surround sound and Mikey was simultaneously terrified and horrified by the remembrance that he had...he had...

"I didn't mean to," he groaned, and looked around frantically for something to clean up with. "I didn't...it felt...I couldn't stop..."

With another tremor coursing its way through him, Mikey pushed that thought away again. His eyes fell on the metal bars and he blanched as he saw a pail of water and a rag. It hadn't been there before he and Raph had... which meant someone had been watching. Bishop had probably been watching. Mikey trembled harder, and suddenly he scrambled to the far side of the cell, leaned over and vomited.

There was nothing to bring up except stomach bile, but his body did its best to try anyway. Mikey heaved and shook and finally fell to his knees, managing to avoid the mess by sheer luck. Resting on his knees, planting his hands to the ground, he let his head hang low, panting. Everything hurt. Everything.

"I want to go home," he whispered. No one answered him. Weakly, he crawled across the hard floor, the rough cement scraping his hands, but he ignored it in favor of the water bucket. A quick look inside showed it was relatively clean. A small paper cup sat behind it, and Mikey dipped it in, filling it quickly, and then downing it just as fast. Repeating it a few more times, he filled the cup back up and set it aside for Raphael. Then he grabbed the rag and soaked it.

Overcome by an intense desire to be rid of the stench, of the...remnants of what had happened, Mikey scrubbed himself down, pressing in hard against his skin. He poured more water on the rag and wrung it out before doing it again. And again. And he might have kept on doing it, had he not heard a distant explosion.

Mikey's head snapped up. Now that the gnawing thirst had been quenched, his skin slightly cleaner, he felt more of the fuzziness in his head rush away. Crawling back to the bars, he pressed against them, straining to hear. Distantly, he could hear an alarm going off, faint shouts echoing down metal corridors. His eyes widened.

It was a rescue attempt. He'd stake his life on it. Call it a gut instinct, or maybe he was just starting to recognize the sounds of rampant destruction his family caused on a regular basis, but he suddenly knew, with every fiber of his being, that help was on the way. He gasped.

He had to hide this. They couldn't know. No one could. If Raph remembered, well, he'd...blackmail him. Threaten him. Something. Mikey grabbed the rag and shakily pulled himself to his feet. He had to stop thinking about this. Stop remembering. Focus on what needed to be done. Conceal the evidence.

Mikey limped over to Raphael, pausing as he stood over him, fear making his hands shake, and he nearly dropped the rag. Then he bit his lip and fell to his knees, slowly reaching for his brother.

He ran the cloth over him quickly, trying to blank his mind. Raphael sighed as the cloth brushed along his plastron, removing all traces of...it, and Mikey did drop the cloth at the sound, scuttling backwards. Then Raph snorted and his face smoothed out again, still breathing deep and evenly.

"Get it together, Mikey," he told himself, and moved back again. He didn't remove all the blood – let everyone think everything was the result of injury, of Bishop's sick little tests. Mike gave Raph one last, quick look over, and then started scrubbing the patchy spots on the floor. Lastly, he overturned the bucket, slopping it over the worst of the mess, using the rag to mix in the pool of vomit to further hide everything.

The stink was nearly overwhelming, but at least the tell-tale scent of musk was gone, overpowered by the scent of blood and sickness.

Just in time, too. As Mikey set the bucket down, the door at the end of the hallway opened up, and he could have cried in relief to see the familiar blue of Leonardo's mask practically glowing under the white lights.

"Leo!"

"Mikey!" Leo rushed over to the cell, gripping the bar with one hand, his sword in the other. His eyes raked up and down Mikey's shaking form "Are you okay?"

Mikey used every bit of acting ability he possessed, every last drop of the old, Mikey side-tracking charm. "I'm fine, bro. Sore, but fine. Bishop didn't spare the scalpels this time." He motioned behind him. "Raph's out cold, but we might be able to bring him around." He swallowed hard, forcing his voice to remain steady. "He was moving a bit."

"If not, I'll carry him. We can't stay here." As Leo finished speaking, the professor and April suddenly ran into the hallway. Mikey looked at them sharply, searching.

"Where's Donnie?"

"He, Master Splinter and Casey are freeing Leatherhead," Donnie said, standing next to Leo. "Are you okay?"

"I'm alive," was all Mikey could say. He'd used up whatever reserves he'd had with Leo. His eyes closed, and he rested his head against the bar. "I'm alive."

"Oh, Mikey," Donnie said softly, looking at the revolting mess on the floor and the gore covering his brothers, but he didn't push anything. "Professor, quickly."

"Of course," the professor chirped, and slid his index finger into the computerized lock. A few seconds later, there was a loud 'click' and the door slid open. "We must make haste!"

"The base security systems are under my control but Bishop's got his techs hacking away at it," Donnie said briskly. "Leo, can you carry Raphael?"

Leo didn't answer, but simply strode into the cell, ignoring the mess. He scooped up Raphael, draping him over his shoulder. Donatello wrapped an arm around Mikey, who tried his hardest not to flinch away, but wasn't completely successful. Blithely ignoring the questioning look on his techno bro's face, he asked, "Can we go home now?"

Leonardo nodded, his face harsh and cold, making Mikey shrink a little. "Let's go."

Back in the main corridor, they came across Casey and April propping up a groggy Leatherhead. Master Splinter was guarding their rear. As the two groups converged on each other, he saw his four sons and his eyes lit up.

"My sons!" One leap had him at Michaelangelo's side, and Mikey wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around his father, bury his head against his side and cry out his fears as he did when he was a child. Perhaps his father realized this; Splinter reached up with one gnarled hand, and stroked his son's face gently, as though reading the soul-deep pain that had attached itself to his son's psyche. "My son..."

"I'm sorry Master, but save it for later," Leonardo cut in. "Donnie? We need an escape route."

"This way!" Donnie pointed and they all bolted, Mikey hobbling as best he could. Donatello finally gave his laptop to the professor to navigate and used his other hand to help Mikey move more quickly.

Mikey couldn't even remember everything that happened as they escaped the base. Memories of fire, explosions, Leo's screams of rage, Leatherhead's guttural roar as he came to and charged through an entire squadron of soldiers. The sound of bullets, of the chopper April had flown for their rescue starting up. He had felt himself being passed along like a postal package, lugged into the airplane, and he let it all float by.

He had no more to give. He had given everything he had, and it wasn't enough to save himself, to save his brother from doing something he didn't even want to bring himself to recall. He couldn't stop Raphael. He couldn't break them free. He couldn't fight back.

Mikey was dimly aware of Donatello speaking to him, a familiar blob of purple-on-green looking him in the face and speaking in worried tones to a red-and-brown blob. He could hear them - "...delayed reaction, maybe...", "...in shock..." and he tuned them out, shutting his eyes despite pleas from the blobs to keep them open.

He was safe, for now. He could let go. So he did.

---

Donnie watched, frustrated and worried as Mikey slipped into unconsciousness. He didn't know exactly what had been to done to him, to Raph, but it obviously wasn't good. A fur-covered hand gripped his own, and he looked up to see Master Splinter staring evenly at him.

"They will be fine, with time," he said calmly. "Now that they are among family, they will recover. You must have faith in this."

Donatello nodded, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, calming himself. Whatever happened, whatever demons his brothers had to face, he would be there. As would Leo, their father, Casey, April and all of their friends. There was nothing this family, dysfunctional and unorthodox as it was, couldn't handle together. If nothing else, he had faith in that.

The Blackhawk chopper sped silently through the night.

---

End Chapter 3 of 11

Notes: While this chapter is actually the longest part thus far, the overall story is being written much more...compact, than I usually write. I'm trying to keep it in episodic form (even the most complex of story arcs never went beyond four episodes) which means short, punchy, to the point.

Also, in response to this PM I received:

How DARE u write something like this? A rape victim doesnt feel pleasure from being violated. A real survivor wouldntturn it into a joke. I was raped and it was the most dehumanizing experience of my life. U need to put warnings and consider how people will feel about this...

...et cetera, et cetera.

Sorry to hear about your attack. Fortunately it has nothing to do with me. And while I feel sympathy for most victims of ANY crime, I most certainly do NOT have any responsibility for or to any reader. I write for myself and share it with others. Don't like it? Don't read it. Also, this is a work of fiction. FICTION. Fic-tion. As in, not real. Didn't actually happen. And frankly, the characters will feel any damn thing I want them to feel.

...my response was actually longer, as was the original message, but it was private, and this small section is going to serve as a warning to anyone else who feels offended by my subject matter.

Reviews are always good, especially with this fic, since I know it's more volatile then my other, happy-fluffy-bunny works. For everyone else who is reading it with an open mind, thank you very much. More to come shortly.