A/N: Thanks to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for me. You guys are awesome! And thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed thus far, I'm really glad that you're enjoying the story.

Disclaimer: see chapter one

It took everything Raphael had not to pass out from the pain as he limped heavily through the rows upon rows of gravestones. Raphael looked around for any sign of the next clue. He took out his shell cell and checked the time. He had one hour remaining before it was game over. Grunting as he pushed the pain from his mind, Raphael put the shell cell back in his belt and continued his desperate search for the next clue.

He wasn't sure how long he staggered through the cemetery, each step more difficult than the last, until his legs finally buckled and gave out on him. Raphael collapsed in a heap up against a beautifully carved, white marble angel.

The angel was kneeling and it had its hands folded, and its head bowed in reverence as if it was praying. Raphael hissed as he pulled himself up to sit up against the base of the statue. His legs were throbbing and the bandages were soaked through with blood.

He silently cursed. This couldn't be the end; he had to find his brothers. Leaning his head back against the cool stone, Raphael looked up at the sky, the first rays of dawn piercing the darkness. A streak of orange flashed across his line of sight. He gasped when he saw Michelangelo's mask hanging down from the angel's delicately folded hands. He reached up and grabbed his little brother's mask. He pulled out the piece of paper that was tied to the mask and unfolded it.

I am mother and father, but never birth or nurse.
I'm rarely still, but I never wander.

What am I?

Raphael groaned as he hung his head at yet another riddle and put a fist to his forehead. The pain from his legs was messing up his concentration.

"Come on, Raphie boy, ya gotta focus they're counting on you," Raphael told himself. "What is it?"

He looked up, gasping as agony continued to burn through every tiny, sensitive nerve ending in his legs. He searched the cemetery hopefully, as if the gravestones could talk and solve the riddle for him. His eyes finally fell upon a few leafless trees.

"A tree," Raphael inhaled sharply as the answer hit him. "And where's the most trees in New York?" He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his lowers legs as if that would help relieve some of the burning pain. "Central Park." His eyes opened as his heart began to race frantically. "Central Park," he repeated his voice desperate.

Raphael pulled himself to his feet and stumbled his way back to the Battle Shell. Once he was inside, he placed the new clue with the rest of the clues he had gathered, his eyes falling upon Michelangelo's picture that the clues formed. He turned the pictures around, his heart sinking. All of his brothers were limp and lifeless in their separate photos. Were his brothers already dead? Was he just going to be recovering their corpses? He wondered mournfully.

Swallowing down the bile that rose up in his throat, Raphael noticed words written at the bottom of Leonardo's picture and at the top of both Donatello's and Michelangelo's pictures. He squinted against the dark coloring of the photos and read the words.

The man who invented it doesn't want it.
The man who bought it doesn't need it.
The man who needs it doesn't know it.

What is it?

Raphael was contemplating what the riddle meant when his shell cell rang shrilly in the grim silence. He took it out, opened it and checked the caller ID. Leonardo's name was written across the small screen. Swallowing hard, Raphael pushed "talk" and placed the phone to his ear.

"I'm surprised you made it this far, Red," Alfredson said a smile in his voice.

"What sick, twisted game are you playing?" Raphael hissed angrily.

Alfredson chuckled. "The game I always play, Red. Only this time, you ran out of time."

Raphael tightened his grip on the phone. "I have one hour left!" he shouted into the phone. "My brothers are not dead!" He yelled in denial. "Where are they?!"

Alfredson laughed again, the sound grating on Raphael's nerves. "You have the clues, figure it out. You've already figured out where one brother is, but here's the catch: You can only save one of them." There was the sound of a switch being flipped. "Time's a' wastin', Red. Who's it gonna be?"

The line went dead. Raphael's heart refused to beat. He could only save one of his brothers? Save one and leave the other two to die? He dropped the shell cell and looked over the clues again. He felt sick when he read the Statue of Liberty riddle again. Battery Park was on the way to the ferry to get to the Statue of Liberty. He had been right on top of one of his brothers and he hadn't even known it. And the Purple Dragon's base was a half hour drive from Inwood Hill Park. He had been so close to saving two of his brothers and he never realised it.

Raphael scrambled into the front seat and got behind the wheel. He was closest to Central Park. He wasn't going to let some twisted psychopath tell him that he could only save one brother.

Michelangelo watched in horror as his cell began to quickly fill with water. He whimpered, panic quickly taking over. The youngest turtle hit his shoulder off of the side of the cell in a desperate attempt to get free, but the glass wouldn't budge.

"Leo? Donny?" Michelangelo called.

"We're Mikey," Donatello replied. "We're here."

Michelangelo whimpered again and he looked up to the surface of the water beyond the cell. "Leo, you still think Raph's on his way?" he asked. He turned back to the water that was now up to his knees.

"He's coming, Mikey," Leonardo reassured his brother, hearing the splashing of water on the other side of the speaker. He had never felt so panicked in his life. All he could do was speak comforting words to his brother. Leonardo looked down to find that water was creeping its water into his cell as well.

"I don't want to die, Leo," Michelangelo moaned.

Leonardo swallowed back tears that were beginning to burn his eyes. "You're not going to die, Mike," he said, his voice stern. "You hear me? You're not going to die. You hear me? Not you and not Donny."

"What about you, Leo?" Donatello asked.

Leonardo took a shaky breath. He had to keep his brothers calm. "None of us are going to die," he replied. "Raph's on his way and..." The speaker began to spark. "Mikey?" Leonardo asked.

"Le...o," Michelangelo gasped. "It's almost...I can't..."

"Mikey? Mikey?" Donatello called desperately, panic lacing his voice.

"You're going to be okay, Mike, hold on!" Leonardo said just as the speaker went dead.

An unnatural silence fell after the last spark rendered the speaker in Michelangelo's cell lifeless. In his mind's eye, Leonardo could see a chess board with a full army of black pieces and only four white pieces. He saw the Grim Reaper move one of his pieces to remove one of the white pieces from the board. Leonardo took several deep breaths to try to keep himself calm. He could hear Donatello break down into tears.

"Raph's on his way," Leonardo told his brother in a soft voice. "We're going to see Mike again."

Michelangelo hit his shoulder on the side of the cell again, but still it didn't budge. He had been unable to hear Leonardo's last words of encouragement when the speaker died. This was it; he was going to die scared and all alone, not even having the small comfort of his brothers to ease the torment of his slow death.

He looked up at the surface far above him. Raphie, where are you? he asked desperately.

Meanwhile Raphael pulled up to Turtle's Pond in Central Park. He had searched everywhere he could think of in the park, but nothing turned up anything that would lead hiim to his brother. This was the last place to check. He jumped out of the van and bolted for the pond. He saw a piece of paper and a small device taped to a tree. He went over and ripped the device and paper off. He read the riddle on the paper quickly.

If you break me,
I do not stop working.
If you touch me,
I may be snared.
If you lose me,
Nothing will matter.

What am I?

Raphael looked from the note to the device. The thing was an industrial glass breaker. Raphael threw the note to the ground and then dove into the icy cold, darkened depths of the pond.

Down below, Michelangelo could feel the last of the air in his lungs run out. Darkness began creeping along the edges of his vision as blissful unconsciousness started to take a hold of him. His eyes drifted shut and seconds later the glass that made up his prison shattered into tiny fragments.

He vaguely felt someone grab his arm and pull him towards the surface. Moments later they broke the surface, both gasping and panting for air. Michelangelo looked over to see the exhausted and pain stricken face of his red masked brother.

"Raphie!" Michelangelo exclaimed in joy, his voice hoarse. "Where have you been?"

"We don't have time for that right now, Mike," Raphael told him, pulling him towards the edge of the pond. "We still have to get to Donny and Leo."

The brothers pulled themselves out of the water and climbed into the Battle Shell picking the clue up on the way that Raphael had discarded in his mad dash to save his baby brother's life.

Michelangelo read the riddle and looked over at his brother as Raphael drove out of the park.

"Did you solve the riddle?" Michelangelo asked quietly.

"Yeah," Raphael answered, his voice strained.

Michelangelo looked down at the riddle again. "What's the answer?" he wanted to know.

Raphael was silent for a few moments before he spoke. "One's heart," he answered in a soft voice.

Michelangelo fell quiet as he let the words sink in. What kind of hell did the Grim Reaper put his brother through? He would probably never know since Raphael (never talked) about what was bothering him.

Michelangelo sat back in the seat and watched as buildings and cars fly by. Would they get to Leonardo and Donatello in time? he wondered grimly.

Reviews are welcome, flames are not.