A/N: Okay. The main reason why I rated this NC-17/M/R etc. is because of the sensitivity of this topic, as well as profanity and cursing. There is no sexy stuff going down in the story. The only romantic relate things that I will be writing about in this story is fluff, comforting love, and-probably- references to the naughty. I'm not planning on writting a full out lemon here.

So, without further delay, here is chapter 2

Fractured

New Terror

"This is some shit!"

Michelangelo jumped slightly when Raphael's fisted hand came crashing down upon the kitchen table, the plates, cups, and chopsticks that had been set on top of it shifted and clattered for a brief instance at the sudden burst of aggression.

Master Splinter gave his hot tempered son a half-hearted look of disapproval but didn't bother to verbally reprimand him. How could he when he was feeling just as angry and just has helpless as everyone else in the lair was feeling? The old rat was hiding his emotions a lot better than Raphael was... but he knew that if he ever found out who had done this act of barbarism to one of his sons, he would kill them without a second thought.

"R-raphie, calm down," Mikey started, his sea green hands wrapped around one of Raph's biceps as a means to calm him down- to ground him.

Raph growled under his breath, lifting his other hand to peal Mike's hands away as politely as he could at the moment, "Mikey, I love ya but, please, don't tell me what to be right now. There's no way im'ma stay calm in a situation like this."

Master Splinter nodded with a quick dip of his chin, swiftly picking up his chopsticks from beside his bowl of lukewarm rice, "This is understandable, Raphael, but-"

"But nothin' Masta Splinta," Raph retorted rudely, roughly standing to his feet, abruptly pushing his chair back with the backs of his knees, "Some sick little fuck kidnapped my brother, tortured 'em, even had his fuckin' way with him, and ya expect me ta just sit back on my ass and take it? No fuckin' way am I-"

"Raphael," the elder said with a deep, authoritative voice. He didn't raise his voice by much, but he didn't need to in order to pacify his sons, no matter how emotional, confrontational, or angered they were, "You will sit down and calm yourself this instant. I can assure you that none of us are happy about this situation but you are not making things better by unleashing your temper. Restrain yourself."

Several seconds of silent, uncomfortable seconds passed before Raphael ground out a low 'whatever', his muscular form plopped back down in the chair. Michelangelo hesitantly, slowly, placed his hands on Raph's arm again, kneading his flesh gently. The action seemed to loosen Raph's tension a little bit, but not by much.

Mike shook his head, his eyes closing as he tried to stop the fresh round of tears that was beginning to leak out at the corners of his eyes, "W-who could've done something like this? Donnie... he... h-he didn't deserve this."

Raph bit the inside of his cheek, his eyes glaring down at his bowl of untouched food as if it were the cause of the tension, anger, and overall uneasiness that was filling every nook and cranny of their underground home, "It was probably the Shredda; he's sick enough ta do somethin' like this... although rapin' is pretty new, even fer someone like him..."

Master Splinter shook his head, shifting through his bowl of food with his chopstick indifferently, "I do not think it was him. He is known for torture and unwarranted brutality... but he has not once resorted to used... sexually violent ways as a means to get what he wants. If he does not get what he wants, he usually resorts to the removal of body parts or murder- we had seen that with Baxter Stockman."

"... Yeah," Raph admitted, his jaw clenched as he reluctantly agreed. His fist began to clench again as he continue to speak through his teeth, "But who else would do this ta Donnie? Donnie of all people, huh? I... I could see this happenin' ta me-"

Mike's eyes snapped open, his arms tightening on Raph slightly, "Raph, don't say something like that-"

Raphael's amber colored eyes flickered towards Mikey, his worry and guilt piercing through his angered and tempered façade for the briefest of moments before his vanished from view, "It's true, Mikey. Outta all of us, I'm the one that storms outta here wheneva the hell I want. I'm the one the goes topside at the worst possible times. I'm the one that gets inta trouble the most. I'm the one that's always askin' fer it, goin' out inta the world without a fuckin' care. He doesn't start fights like I do. He doesn't go lookin' fer trouble wheneva he's pissed off..."

He paused, closing his eyes, dipping his chin slightly as he took a deep, cleansing breath, "All Don was doin' was lookin' fer parts fer the Battle-Shell... that's all he was fuckin' doin'. Hell, dumpster divin's the only time he eva leaves the lair by himself... and this one visit to the junkyard lands him here? Battered, bruised, violated... possibly broken from the inside out? Che, what kinda karma is that?" Raph shook his head, his own eyes glistened with unshed tear when they opened again, "It… It shoulda been me..."

"I… I have the results," Leatherhead said after several seconds of analyzing and looking over all the obvious and unobvious finds he had jotted down while giving Don a physical. The act was a bit awkward, seeing as Leonardo was in the room as well, but Leo didn't care. The turtle leader knew Leatherhead was only doing what he needed to do in order to help his unconscious partner and little brother, "Are you sure you want to hear it?"

Leo tenderly gripped Donatello's hand in his own, his apple green thumb stroking over the other's olive green skin soothingly. He didn't like to see his brother, lying so still and damages upon the very same cot Don usually used when Leo or the others were extremely sick or very badly injured.

Leo responded to the crocodile mutant, refusing to turn his eyes away from Don's oxymoronically serene face, as if the brainy turtle would vanish again if he did, "Just tell me, Leatherhead. What…what happened to him?"

LH paused with uncertainty, taking a seat in Donatello's computer chair before he listlessly rolled a little, stopping beside Leo's seated form upon the cot. The large mutant inhaled deeply, sighing out his reluctance to share what he had found out, "Donatello is, all-in-all, physically alright. Most of the bruises covering his body are healing nicely. A few more days of rest and his pigmentation should be back to normal."

"…What else?" Leo uttered lowly, as if he were afraid to ask. His other hand reached out to delicately caress Don's cheek comfortingly, lovingly, "You said he was violated… how badly?"

"He…," Leatherhead started, his eyes could not help but eye the heavy bruising that tarnished the skin of his sleep comrades' inner and back thighs, "Under closer examination, judging by the damage I found both externally and internally, I'd say he was… penetrated, without consent, several times within the time period he was unaccounted for. The last few times seemed consensual but I believe that Donatello fought back so much that he had to be sedated. I won't know for sure until I get his blood work back though."

Leo was silent for seconds, his fingertips traced over the tired line of Don's unmasked face as he thought on Leatherhead's words. Nearly five seconds passed before Leonardo began to talk again, a growl accented his voice when he did, "Who could've done something like this..."

"I have asked myself that very same question from the moment I first laid eyes on him," LH said in a deep, gravelly tone, "It pains me to say it... but I don't think even Bishop would be capable of such an act." He hiss out the name with disgust.

"Me either..." Leo sighed, using both of his hands now to hold Don's slightly smaller one in a gentle grip, "No enemy I can think of would resort to such a low act of torture. Not the Shredder or the Foot, not Stockman, not Hun or the Purple dragons..."

The turtle leader paused, looking over and up at the larger mutant with confused, frustrated eyes. LH's eye were currently stuck on angry, beastly slits; he was still keeping himself in check but he anger was dominating over his composure slowly. Leo's eye ridges pulled together, his confusion shining through more than all other emotions for the moment, "What does that mean?"

"It means, Leonardo," Leatherhead growled out, his hands fisting tightly in his lap, "That we, more likely than not, have another enemy on our hands."

A/N: I would like to say thank you to everyone who has faved/alerted/commented/reviewed this story thus far. It means so much to me; I really appreciate it. :3

So... who do you think could've this? Do you think that the person did this to get information out of Don or do you think they did it for some other, twisted purpose? Do you think I created a new, twisted enemy or do you think I change design of an already existing character?

Also, there is a hint of mystery/suspense in this story as well (I'm really loving those genres). Can you feel it? Is it strong enough or do you want to feel the suspense a bit more in later chapters?

:3 Thank you for reading and please review~