A/N: Thanks to StillThunder86 for being a great beta. Also, to RadicalCriminal for a very helpful review. Expect a slightly revised chapter three in a few days. Meanwhile...
CHAPTER FOUR
Progress
Raph woke up sitting on the floor, resting against the smooth bars that had come down again between his cage and Mack's. He jerked away from them, expecting an electric shock, but felt nothing. He settled back, watching for Bishop's arrival.
After defeating Mack, he had been knocked out with another tranq dart. His arm still stung, but the implied insult stung worse. He'd promised to co-operate, in return for his brothers' safety, and Bishop still didn't trust him. As far as he could tell, the only things that had happened after he was knocked out were that he and Mack and been returned to their own sides of the cell, and the double set of bars between them had been replaced. Sure, some of Bishop's men must have come in to move Mack, but what did Bishop think Raph would do to them? The turtle snorted, impatiently.
"That psycho is a total control-freak," he said. "It's like he's one a life-long power-trip."
Mack grunted, but didn't move from where he lay, curled up against the bars of his own cage. Raphael glanced at the creature, curiously.
"Mack? Bishop said you use ta be able to talk, right? Does that mean you can understand what I'm sayin'?"
Mack didn't respond, and Raphael sighed, leaning back against the bars. "It don't really matter what you do or don't understand, Mack. I gotta talk to somebody besides that scum Bishop or I'm gonna go crazy."
The werewolf, or whatever it was, made a small 'huff' sound, and flicked an ear in Raph's direction. He took it as a sign that Mack was awake, and not going to object to the sound of his voice. It was all the encouragement he needed.
"You got family, Mack? I do. Three brothers, and our father. He's away right now, visiting the Ancient One. My brothers are here, though. I hope they're OK. I saw them, on that screen over there. Leo and Mikey, with Don fussing over them like a mother hen. He does that, you know? One of us gets so much as a black eye and Donny's all over it. Wish he looked after himself half so good."
Raphael lost track of time as he talked, telling Mack about his life. He talked about small details, everyday things. About finding a beaten-up wreak of a bike and fixing it until it was the coolest ride in the whole of New York, one that even Casey Jones envied. He talked about Mikey's stomach-turning pizzas, and the time Leo spent thirty hours straight perfecting a new kata. Raphael knew he was rambling, but he didn't care. He also knew that Bishop was probably listening to all this, but he wasn't saying anything that could be used to hurt his brothers, or giving away any secrets. He took the opportunity to casually insult Bishop when recounting their past adventures. It was a small victory, but a satisfying one, to imagine the look on that superior face as he heard the turtle tell Mack about the many times Bishop had messed up.
All this talking stretched over more than just the one night. For three days, Bishop would appear in the morning with the tests he wanted from Raphael. They were ridiculously simple, either he had to fight an animal (a non-shape-shifting one this time), or complete an obstacle course. Once, he was just left sitting in a room for hours, told to wait for instructions that never came. He paced for a bit, and even practised some katas, before feeling the familiar sting in his arm and waking up in his cell. Bishop still had him tranquillised after every test, sometimes with gas, but normally with a dart. It was getting monotonous, and making it very hard to keep track of how long he'd been there. Meals were as irregular as they were boring, and Raph ate sparingly due to his suspicions about what Bishop might be putting into the food. It was no good using meals as a judge of how long he'd been locked up. But he was sure that this was the third time he'd sat and talked to Mack, which must be happening at night, he decided. When else would Bishop leave them alone for hours at a time?
He hadn't seen his brothers since that first day, but neither had he heard the echo of sirens that would mean Bishop was giving them the light and sound torture again. He stared at the blank monitor in the corner, as if he could switch it on by sheer willpower and it would give him a window into his brothers' cell. Yesterday, Bishop had told him that Mikey was fully healed, that Leo's bandages were off, and that Don was satisfied with their condition, and that this state of affairs would continue so long as Raphael "behaved himself". The turtle's temper boiled like a volcano at this, but he held it in check – barely. Bishop's 'tests', stupid as they were, weren't so bad, he reasoned, and he'd be ready for the others when they came up with a way to break out of here. After all, they were sitting around in that room all day with nothing to do but figure out an escape plan. They'd come up with something soon, he knew it.
-TMNT-
On the fourth night, or what the captive turtle assumed to be the fourth night, he woke to see Mack's cage empty. Raphael was surprised to find he was sorry about that. He'd hardly paid any attention to the creature, but it had given him someone to talk to. He knew he was probably talking to himself, but at least Mack gave the impression of listening. With the cage next to him empty, he felt foolish talking. But if he didn't talk, then how was he going to stop himself from thinking?
He got up, hoping that some push-ups or shadow-boxing would keep his mind occupied, when he heard a door open away to his right. That wasn't the door Bishop normally used, and Raphael dropped into a crouch against the back wall, using what shadow there was to try and see without being seen. As he watched, two men came in, carrying what looked like a crude stretcher between them. On the stretcher lay Mack, a deep cut slicing open the side of his body.
The men kicked open the door to Mack's cage and put the stretcher on the floor. Raph wondered why they were treating the creature in here; surely Bishop had medical rooms for this kind of thing? To his astonishment, the two men walked out of the cage, and the younger one turned to engage the electronic lock that matched the lock on Raph's own cell. They turned and headed back for the door.
"Hey, wait!" Raphael shouted, loud enough to make them turn back in surprise. "You're just gonna leave him there?"
The younger of the two seemed embarrassed and looked away, but the older man just rolled his eyes.
"What's the matter, freak? You not got enough to worry about or something? You lookin' out for Mack now? Well don't bother – it can look after itself just fine."
"It's just a dumb animal, anyway," the younger one said. But the bravado in his voice rang hollow, and he couldn't meet Raphael's gaze. His eyes slid sideways to take in the still form of Mack, and he looked almost sorry for the 'dumb animal'.
His colleague caught the look, and sneered at him.
"Sheesh, kid! Not you, too? Take my advice – don't start gettin' sentimental about the freaks. It ain't smart."
"But Joe, he's…"
"'It', kid. It's not a 'he', it's an 'it'. Both of 'em, just a couple of 'it's, OK?"
The younger man nodded with a bit more confidence, and walked to the door. But he still wouldn't look at Raphael.
Raph saw red. After so many days of worry and boredom, he almost welcomed a reason to get properly angry. He couldn't give Bishop's men the pasting his fists were itching to deliver, but he could still give them a piece of his mind.
"Get back here!" he yelled. "I'll show you who's an 'it', ya filthy cowards! Couldn't get outa there fast enough, could ya? What ya scared of – Mack here gonna wake up before ya could run away? Not man enough to face us 'freaks'? Is that it?"
The door clicked closed, but Raphael didn't care. His blood was up, and he was going to keep on yelling until someone came to stop him. Maybe Bishop would turn up, if he kept going. Then that psycho "scientist" could explain what the shell was happening here, and when he was going to let his brothers out.
"Fine!" he snapped. "Run away, go on! Go tell Bishop that you're scared of an unarmed turtle and a half-dead wolf. Get him in here, see if he'll face me! Hey, don't bother, I'll tell him myself. I know you're listening, Bishop! You can get your sorry ass in here and…"
"Raph." Someone said his name so quietly that Raphael almost didn't hear it. He whirled around. It wasn't Bishop voice, or his brothers', or even those two goons come back. It was a rasping voice, like someone trying to shout a whisper, and it was coming from Mack's cage.
Shocked into sudden silence, the turtle stared at the creature through the bars. The first thing he noticed was that the cut on Mack's side wasn't nearly as bad as he'd first thought. The second thing was that the animal was watching him was curiously bright and un-animal eyes.
"Raph," he said again, and this time he saw the creature's mouth move.
"Mack?" he said, taking a step forward. "Mack, did you speak?"
"Nah." It came out almost as a grunt, but the wolf-creature shook his head firmly. Casting a significant look at the monitors in the corner of the room, he said, quietly, "Can't. He say. Righ'?"
Raph frowned at looked over his shoulder to the place where Bishop normally stood. Getting as close to Mack as the double set of bars would allow, he dropped down to a crouch and spoke as softly as he could.
"Bishop doesn't know you can talk?"
Mack nodded, still keeping a wary eye on the monitors.
"So, why tell me?"
Mack paused for a moment, as if choosing his answer carefully. Finally he said, "You ge' out?"
"Get out? You mean, escape?"
Mack nodded again, more urgently this time. Raphael shook his head.
"I can't," he said. Mack huffed, eagerly.
"Can," he insisted. "I help. Can. Out."
Raph's eyes went wide in surprise. "Really?" he asked, forgetting to keep his voice down.
"Hush!" Mack barked out the order and slunk down low on the floor of his cage, keeping Raphael's body between him and the monitors.
"Yeah," he said, after a moment. "Can ge' out. Us. OK?"
Raph's face clouded over. "I can't, Mack. Sorry. I promised Bishop I'd co-operate if he left my brothers alone. I can't risk them getting hurt."
Now it was Mack's eyes that widened. "Wuh?" he said.
"Those brothers I told you about? Bishop's got them locked up here. I've seen them, and I've seen what he can do to them. Me staying here and doing his stupid tests is the only thing keeping them safe."
Mack stared at him for a moment. It was hard to read expression on his shifting face, but he seemed confused. Then understanding dawned.
"Ah, they safe, can ess… ess… ge' out, righ'? Then you?" he said. "Hmm, risk – they ge' out, forge' you?"
Now it was Raphael's turn to look confused, and only partly from Mack's odd speech patterns. He was getting the hang of working them out; it wasn't really any harder than listening to Mikey talk through a mouthful of pizza (and a lot less gross). This one, he figured, meant that Mack thought leaving his brothers in peace was some sort of master plan to allow them to plot the escape while he kept Bishop's attention. The risk, according to Mack, was that Leo, Mikey and Don would simply make their own escape, without including Raphael. It was this suggestion that made him stare.
"Of course they won't forget about me!" he said. "They're my brothers. If they make an escape plan, it will be for all of us. And yeah, sure, I'm hoping they can get me out, but when I made that promise…" Raphael paused, the image of Leo and Mikey's fight still vivid behind his eyes. He hadn't told Mack about that, and didn't want to do so now. In the end, he said, "Bishop was hurting them. This was the only way I could stop him."
"But, now he hurts you," Mack pointed out, still confused.
"Yeah," said Raph. "But better me than my brothers."
The huffing sound that came from the wolf-creature contained no words, but Raphael got the distinct impression that the wolf thought he was crazy.
"Honestly, Mack, I'd've busted out of here days ago if that scumbag of a scientist didn't have hostages," he said. "As it is, I've got no choice. I do what he asks, without giving him trouble, and my brothers stay safe. That's the deal."
Raph sighed and sat back. He cast a sympathetic glance at his fellow-prisoner. "Anyways, how far d'ya think you'd get with that injury?"
Mack rolled over and got to his feet. "Gone," he said, simply. Sure enough, there was no cut on his flank, just a line of dried blood on the fur.
"Woah – how'd you do that? Don' tell me ya really are a werewolf!"
"Wuh? Nah, jus' fast. His thing. 'Get well soon'. Hah!"
Raph shook his head. Talking to Mack was like trying to listen to a badly-tuned radio. It made sense, in a way, but there were lots of gaps you had to fill in yourself.
"What do you mean, 'his thing'? Who's 'thing'?"
Mack nodded over to the monitors in the corner. "Him", he explained.
"Bishop? You mean, he made it so that you heal fast?"
"Yeah. An' you."
"Me? Wait, what's this got to do with me?" Raph asked, confused again.
"How's yo' ank… ank... ?" Mack began, before giving up and substituting "… foot?"
Raph looked at his foot – or rather, his ankle – where Mack had bitten him during their fight. It hadn't been hurting him at all, so he hadn't thought about it. Now that he looked, he saw that, although there was still a faint mark, the wounds had almost completely healed over. It was certainly healed far more than he would have expected in three days. He inspected his shoulder, and found no trace of the bite that Mack had given him there. The turtle raised shocked eyes to Mack, who nodded, calmly.
"Him." Mack growled, with a venomous look at the monitors. "Change you. You stay, you change. Get out," he advised.
Could it be true? Raph wondered. Was Bishop really doing more 'tests' on him than the ones he'd been awake for? It made sense, the man had been so adamant about not using Don's 'tainted' DNA. But even so… well, it didn't change the fact that his brothers' lives depended on his obedience.
Wishing he could give some other answer, he turned to his new friend and said, "Mack, I told ya already, I can't!"
The yellow eyes looking at Raphael seemed suddenly colder and harder. After a long moment's scrutiny, Mack let out a huff that could have been resignation, but was more likely annoyance. Turning his back on the turtle, he very deliberately went to sleep.
-TMNT-
Another day, another round of tests, another dart in the arm. Another night, waking up in his cell. Only this time, he hesitated to talk to Mack. He knew he had nothing to say that Mack wanted to hear, but he was afraid that Bishop would notice if he suddenly stopped talking. He was still debating the best course of action, when Bishop himself entered the room.
Raph fought to banish all trace of worry or weariness from his face.
"Heh, mornin' already, eh?" he said, in passable imitation of his usual confidence. In fact, admitting to Mack that Bishop had the whip hand over him had driven it home just how hopeless his situation was. He was feeling thoroughly depressed, and in no mood to listen to the self-important, shadowy-agent's taunts today. He hoped that he could keep his temper, for his brothers' sakes.
"Not yet," Bishop replied. "It's evening, actually. I was just about to finish for the day when it occurred to me that you hadn't seen your family in a while. I'm sure you'll be wanting to thank me for my kindness." Bishop paused, expectantly.
"Yeah, sure," growled Raph. Bishop smirked, and raised his control to the monitors. Raphael fought to keep his face impassive as he watched his brothers in their own room. Mikey's bandages were off, and Leo was looking better, too. Don was standing with his back to the camera at first, but when he turned, Raph could see that he looked calmer than the last time he'd seen him. There was still no sound, but he stood and watched his brothers as they sat around talking. He wondered if they were talking about escape. Or about him. He wondered, for one bitter moment, if they missed him; but even this dark mood didn't last long. Just seeing them, knowing they were safe, lifted a huge load off of his heart.
Bishop switched off the monitor, but Raphael continued to stare at it, as if he could still see his family there. As Bishop left, he threw a curious glance at Mack, who was sitting up, ears pricked, watching the screen with as much interest as Raphael himself. When Bishop moved, Mack switched his attention to the scientist instead, growling low in the back of his throat and raising his hackles high.
Bishop allowed himself a small smile. He enjoyed being able to produce predictable responses in his subjects. However much they resisted him, he was the one in ultimate control of everything. It was a good thing to know.
"You see, Raphael?" Bishop said, his hand on the door, "You behave yourself and everyone will be just fine." He left the room, shutting the heavy door behind him.
"Liar!" hissed Mack.
Raph looked over at his fellow-prisoner, who was still glaring at the monitors. Mack always looked, and sounded, angry, but this time he seemed to mean it.
Raph found himself in the unusual position of trying to calm someone else's rage. He forced a lightness into his tone that he didn't feel. "Hey, I know Bishop's a lowlife, but what's he lying about this time?"
"See… tuh…" Mack sighed and started again. "Him… see…" he managed, before once more petering off with a frustrated growl.
Raph tried to decipher this one. It wasn't easy.
"Him?" he ventured. "Bishop, right? Something he saw?"
Mack shook his head.
"Something you saw? Something about Bishop that you saw?"
Mack shook his head again, and held up a paw-like hand against further guessing. Shuffling slowly round on two feet, with one hand occasionally brushing the floor, Mack manoeuvred himself into a position where he was completely hidden from the monitors behind Raphael's shell. The turtle turned to keep him in sight but, at Mack's insistent gestures and low growls, kept his distance.
When Mack stopped moving, he closed his eyes and seemed to concentrate. His breathing became deliberate and slow, and he once more changed shape before Raph's eyes. At first he was in the half-standing crouch that he seemed to prefer when resting, the one Raphael had privately called "gorilla-Mack". As he watched his fellow-prisoner's features melt and change, Raph wondered why Mack was so keen to hide from the cameras. After all, Bishop had been there for their fight. He knew that Mack could change shape. Why the sudden need for secrecy?
But as Mack's new form emerged, Raph understood. The figure before him was still hunched over, but from choice. The way he held himself told Raph that he could stand up fully if he wanted to. The muzzle was pulled right in, leaving Mack's previously wolf-like face looking oddly flat. His front paws were now definitely hands, and the fur over all his body, while still heavy, seemed darker and smoother. Only his eyes, when he opened them again, were unchanged: yellow with flecks of brown.
Mack let out a long breath.
"Wasn't sure I could still do that," he remarked. His voice had changed, too. The whispery, hoarse quality was much less pronounced, and the diction was clearer.
"Listen, this is important. Not got long, hard to hold this shape. On screen, that your brother?"
Raph nodded, still trying to take in what he was seeing.
"Thought so," Mack said. "Saw him today, but not like that."
"What?"
"Today, I fought another turtle. Name Don Tello?"
"Donatello," Raph corrected, automatically.
"Right. Fought him today. Looked bad. Not like that," he said, nodding at the screen. "Bruises. Tired. Worried."
Raph sat back, stunned. All this, everything he'd let Bishop do to him, had been to keep his brothers safe. If Bishop was lying… He needed to know more.
"Did you see the others? Leo or Mikey? How badly was Don hurt? How much did you hurt him? Where is Bishop keeping them? Did he say what he's gonna…?"
"Raph!" Mack barked. It really was a bark, too. His shape had shifted back to his resting-state, and he looked tired. "Hush," he added, looking hard at the monitors. By moving, Raphael had exposed Mack to their view, he realised. He returned to his place, and watched as Mack resumed his near-human form.
"Keep still, and quiet, and I'll tell you everything I know."
As the distraught turtle listened to the story, he wondered just what had been happening to his brothers since he left them in that small, white room.