Raphael was angry; he was very angry…at himself.

Splinter had tried for years to help his hotheaded son, but most of it had been in vain; this was simply the way that Raphael was.

Not anymore! Raphael thought. It finally happened…I almost got one of my brother's killed.

Leaving the sewer, he dashed into a nearby alley and sat on the ground, dropping his head into his hands.

Why am I this way? he wondered. Why? The others aren't like this…especially Donny. Why did he have to be the one to get shot? Raphael didn't want any of his brothers to ever get injured—especially on his account—but it had really been a slap in the face for peacemaker-Donatello to be the one. I started the attack. It would've served me right for the bullet to hit me. I should never have put Donatello in that situation! What's wrong with me?

Almost immediately, the answer came to him: You let all this Ninja stuff go to ya head all these years, that's what.

With a sigh, Raphael knew that was the truth. He loved being a Ninja; loved the power that his skills commanded…and he loved using those skills.

Within minutes, he'd arrived at the convenience store and snuck in, grabbing two gallons of milk—figuring that one gallon wouldn't last very long—and put the correct price on the counter and left before the clerk could see his green skin.

A rumble of thunder sounded as he made his way down the alley, and a drop of rain landed on his nose. Great, he thought. He started to run, and made it to the manhole before the sky had a chance to downpour on him.

As he approached the lair, butterflies started fluttering in his stomach. Would he arrive to find Donatello awake?

Would he arrive to find Donatello dead?

Raphael started to run. He barreled into the lair and into their infirmary, stopping when the others all looked at him.

Donatello still lay quietly, his chest rising and falling in a regular pattern.

"Uh," said Raphael, seeing the odd look that Mikey was giving him. "Here's ya milk."

Michelangelo smiled. "Thanks, dude!" He took the gallons and left the room.

Raphael sat in his chair, studying his injured brother. "Any change?"

Leonardo turtle shook his head. "No."

Raphael sighed and crossed his arms. Patience had never been one of his virtues.

A few minutes later, Mikey came back with not only everyone's coffee…but the whole pot. The others watched as their youngest brother set it up on a nearby table and plugged it in.

"I figured it'd be easier to keep the pot in here, " Mikey said, turning around and bringing his brothers each a cup. "And hey, maybe the smell will wake Donny up! You know how he can't live without his coffee!"

Raphael smiled slightly as he took a long gulp. "Ya got a point there, Mikey."

Michelangelo laughed, nervously. "Maybe that's why he's still out! Caffeine withdrawal! Hehe!" With that, he brought his cup of coffee over to their unconscious brother and held it under his nose.

If the orange-masked turtle expected the smell to wake Donatello immediately, he was disappointed.

Time passed excruciatingly slow, and Raphael got antsy, his muscles practically begging for exercise.

"Hey Mikey," he suddenly said. "Wanna spar?"

Michelangelo looked at him, his eyes opened wide in probably a caffeine overdose. "Sure, dude!" He jumped up and ran towards the dojo.

Raphael stood, eager to get out some stress.

"Raph," said Leo.

"What."

"Don't kill him."

The red-masked turtle looked at him with a frown.

"You're angry," said Leo. "Don't loose control."

In the past, Raphael would've answered with some kind of irritated retort, but he held his tongue, knowing that his older brother was right.

Michelangelo was ready, dancing around the dojo with his nunchucks. He stopped when he saw Raphael come in, and went to stand on one end of the practice mat.

Raphael ran over and launched himself into the air, flipping himself over before landing on his feet, his sai in his hands.

To his surprise, Mikey attacked first.

A nunchuck came towards his head, and Raph easily deflected it with his sai, while blocking the other from striking his plastron.

Mikey danced back, spinning the chucks wildly.

Raphael lunged forward, his body relishing the chance to use up the stored adrenaline, and he and Mikey traded blows for what seemed like an eternity. They were evenly matched…evenly, because Raphael tried his hardest to hold back, keeping Leonardo's warning in his mind. Don't lose control…don't lose control…don't lose control…

Unexpectedly, Mikey used one of his chucks to trip Raphael backwards, and was soon sitting on his older brother's chest.

Raphael, breathing heavily from the wild fight, was surprised that he'd lost, and suddenly realized that the nunchuck chain across his throat wasn't being removed. "Mikey?" he said, shocked at the angered expression in his brother's eyes.

Michelangelo blinked, sitting back and pulling his weapon away. He slid off and remained sitting on the floor while he regained his breath.

Raphael sat up, realizing that he wasn't the only one battling anger over the current situation. "Mikey," he said.

Michelangelo turned his head slightly, to show that he was listening, but kept his back to him.

Raphael rubbed his hands across his face, wiping away sweat. "I know this is my fault…I'm sorry. I dunno what else to say."

Michelangelo looked at him. "How about, 'it'll never happen again'."

Raphael said nothing at first, before reaching out to grab his brother's arm. "I can only try. Will ya help me?"

Michelangelo frowned. "How can I help your recklessness, Raph?"

Raphael looked at the floor. "Keep remindin' me of this. When we face enemies, just whisper 'Donny' to me."

Michelangelo sighed and looked away. "Deal."

"Guys!!" they suddenly heard Leo shout. "Get in here!"

Raphael and Michelangelo leaped to their feet and dashed into the infirmary to find Leo bending over their injured brother.

"Is he waking up?" Mikey shouted.

"Shhh!" Leonardo exclaimed. "We don't want to overwhelm him!"

Raphael sat on the side of the bed. "Donny?" he said, nervously, as the wounded turtle groaned softly.

Donatello groaned again, eyes squeezed tight in obvious pain.

Keeping calm was nearly impossible as they watched Donatello wake ever so slowly. Raphael squeezed his good shoulder and gently tapped his face, trying to bring him into awareness.

Finally, two bleary eyes were looking up at them through half-opened eyelids.

"Donny?" Raphael said.

"Raph…" Donatello whispered, slowly blinking. "You…okay?"

A stab of guilt shot through Raph's stomach. Donatello had been shot because of him, and was asking Raph if he was okay? "Yeah, Donny…" he said, his voice shaking. "Ya saved me."

Donatello smiled and closed his eyes again; the battle to keep them open was obvious. "Good…"

Raphael sighed and looked down.

The others remained quiet, knowing that the two turtles needed this moment.

"Ya shouldn't've done that, Donny," Raphael said.

Donny didn't react to his voice, eyes still closed.

"Donny?" said Raph, tapping his face again. "Wake up, bro."

Donatello's eyes fluttered. "Huh?"

"Don't do that ever again, Donny," Raphael said, louder. "Ya hear me?"

Apparently, the increased volume of Raph's voice woke Donatello fully, and the injured turtle gasped softly, with a pained grimace.

Leonardo seized his chance. "Donny," he said, grabbing their brother's hand to get his attention. "Can we give you morphine?"

The injured turtle opened his eyes, hesitating.

Leonardo waited while Donatello thought about it. Human drugs sometimes had odd effects on them, considering that they were part turtle. Morphine, in particular, made them 'totally loopy', as Michelangelo called it.

The last time Donatello had needed it, it had made him hallucinate.

"Donny?" Leo prodded.

"What's my…condition?" Donatello asked, weakly.

"Bullet wound, here," said Leo, gently placing Donatello's hand over the bandage. "The bullet broke a rib."

Donatello felt around the wound, probably figuring out how close it had come to his heart. "Removed?"

Leo frowned, before realizing what he meant. "The bullet? Yes."

Donatello closed his eyes with another wince. "Okay...less than last time…"

Leonardo didn't have to ask him what he meant. "Right." He stood and went to retrieve the drug.

Michelangelo looked at everyone. "My turn?" Without waiting for an answer, he sat on the bed and threw his arms around his brother. "Donny! I'm so glad you're alive!"

Donatello was startled by his action, but not surprised. He tried to pat Mikey's shell with the hand on his good arm. "I'm okay, Mikey," he said, trying not to let pain show in his voice from his brother's grip. "I'm okay."

Michelangelo held on, with a sniff.

Donatello made no protest, despite the pain growing and growing.

Raphael could see the agony in his brother's face, and tugged on his youngest brother's arm. "Mikey—"

His tone made it obvious what the problem was, and the orange-masked turtle sat up like a piece of bread in a toaster. "Sorry, Donny!"

The injured turtle tried to speak, but the only thing that came out was a groan.

Leonardo returned with the drug, and Donatello gave no reaction to the sting of the needle, his brain thoroughly occupied with the pain of his bullet wound. He tried to shift his position in the bed, but a wave of agony erupted from his body. "Argggh…" He groaned, laying a hand over his eyes. "Oh, it hurts!"

Raphael winced as if he himself could feel the pain.

Donatello opened his eyes, realizing too late what he had said. "Sorry, Raph…" he said, his voice sounding slightly slurred as the morphine started to work.

Raphael sat on the bed again, gripping his brother's hand. "No, Donny, I'm sorry."

"S'okay…it was...worth it..." Donatello whispered, before the painkiller sent him to sleep.

Raphael's heart clenched when Donny went limp, but the injured turtle's chest thankfully continued to rise and fall. A ragged sigh escaped his lips.

No it wasn't, Donny...

TBC