Mikey and I weren't leaving anytime soon. Donny knew this, but when he returned to the Family Room, he still insisted we get some rest and leave the hospital for a few hours.

Mikey was sat by my side on the sofa. Donny perched on a chair at the back of the room facing the window.

"Raph? How is he doing?"

"He'll live. We're lucky he's still alive." Don was thinking deeply, his voice had that faraway sound to it.

"I know." I turned to Mikey and watched the reaction to the news - Raphael was going to live. Mikey nodded grimly and walked away. No doubt to inform his work colleagues and get some investigation underway.

"You okay, Leo?" Donny asked as I watched Mikey leave the room.

"This isn't the first time. I'm just worried that next time, well, it'll all turn out a lot worse." My thoughts travel back to the first time Raphael was badly hurt. He had ended up being thrown through a skylight in April's apartment by the notorious Foot Clan. He was almost dead then, barely had a pulse. Although I had little time to concentrate on Raphael's injuries, in the heat of battle, the thought that we might lose him weighed heavily on all of us.

Raph's temper has always gotten him into trouble. He has been in trouble numerous times. Not only is he quick to jump into a situation without thinking, he also has a habit of sacrificing himself for others. Although I admire the selfless heroic attitude, it often grates on me.

"Your website. It was attacked. Everything okay now?" I asked Donatello, eager for a change in conversation.

Donny smiles at me, his face lightening for a moment. It hurts him to think about Raphael, and I'm trying to get him to think about something else. Give him respite, if only for a moment.

"It's not a problem. I called my employees and asked them to go in early. To be honest, I think they're dying to show me what they can do. I always handle things myself, and this has given them the opportunity to show me what they're made of."

I can't help but smile. Donatello's little army of workers have been trying to show him their worth for a long time now.

Mikey came and went during the next day. Donatello and I remained with Raphael, taking turns to sit and talk to him. He was still unconscious but he was stronger, recovering rapidly, his eyes fluttering with the effort of trying to regain consciousness.

April and Casey also visited Raphael. They were concerned, but there was little they could do to help him. Casey was angry and frustrated, pacing the room and balling his fists. April remained quiet, stroking Raphael's face gently.

Throughout the day, I remained at the hospital. I called off my ninjitsu classes in the early evening and stayed either in the Family Room or at Raphael's side.

By the early evening I was dozing, my head falling onto the crisp white sheet of Raphael's bed when I felt a hand on my head. A light patting sensation.

My eyes flew open. I looked straight at him, at his smile and ended up smiling myself. He was wide awake and looked quite healthy besides the bandage on his shoulder.

"Leo. What the hell are you doing here? Haven't you got a dojo to run?"

"It can wait. Do you remember what happened to you?" I asked.

"I got shot. I remember clearly. Damn drunken fool, I am." Raphael seemed to be struggling with something. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

"It's okay now, Raph. Try and relax. Don't think too much." I pressed my finger to his temple, rubbing the sore knot of muscles and eliciting a groan of appreciation.

"I need to get a grip on myself. I'm sorry for putting you through this - all of you."

"It doesn't matter now. We'll talk when you recover. For now, just rest and get well."

Raphael didn't want to stay in the hospital. He was arguing with the doctors and Donny, and finally they let him go to get some peace. At least that meant he was feeling like himself again.

He seemed lost back at the apartment, and the shakes had started to set in. He fought his demons and stayed away from the alcohol. April and Casey came over bearing a hamper of goodies for our fallen warrior. Inside was a bottle of white wine and Raphael casually fished out the bottle and handed it back to April. "I'm not gonna be needing this stuff anymore."

April and Casey traded a surprised look, then smiled at each other. "I was hoping that would be the case. Casey and I will drink it together tonight." April replied, her voice cracking a little with emotion.

Over the weeks that followed Raphael remained strong and didn't touch a drop of alcohol.

"I'm not going out until I get this under control." Raphael swore, watching the television with a glazed expression. He was clearly fighting the biggest battle of his life and I was powerless to help him because he wanted no help from anyone.

Twice I tried to talk about getting some outside help. Twice he refused bluntly and angrily, insisting he was doing it alone. I tried to get him to talk about his demons, but he refused to open up - staring blankly at walls whenever I tried to initiate conversation.

Mikey had better luck with getting Raph to talk. The investigation was a conversational point, and Mikey was quick to let Raph know how they were progressing - the two thugs that had been waving the guns had been found a few blocks from the scene where Raphael had been shot. They had tried to rob a convenience store, and the owner had a shotgun concealed under the cash register. He had held them at bay until the cops had arrived and hauled them away. There was little information about the prostitute that Raphael had saved, and everyone assumed she got away.

Raphael wasn't pleased that there was no information regarding the young woman. The thugs had been on a high, rampaging across four blocks before they were apprehended.

After a month of sobriety, Raphael's head had cleared and the shakes had stopped. He began prowling the red light districts, searching for the face of the woman he had saved without any success. He remembered details about her - the medium length brown tangled hair being whipped across her face as she ran, the green eyes that wildly locked onto his for a few seconds. Her oval and petite face, and her lithe figure. The clothes she had worn were edgy and promiscuous, promising more. From the knee high boots to the cleavage accentuating top - she had been a blur as she ran past Raphael - yet her face was imprinted on his mind.

Donny and Mikey joined the hunt, using their own skills and access to information to help Raphael with his quest.

Mikey had a sketch artist talk to Raphael and together they created a portrait of the woman from his memories. Raph was very pleased with the result, and Mikey took the picture into work - trying to get any information he could. Donny searched through social networking sites, accessing back doors and searching whole databases. They didn't have a name, but he had physical features and a location to work with - the right software could narrow down the results.

Nothing worked. Raphael became discouraged. After three months of searching, he finally let his brunette mystery go and concentrated on sparring. His training was rough and uncomfortable, as his anger towards himself intensified. The anger at the addiction he had been through, at being shot, at not being able to find the brunette - all this ate away at him. He savagely trained at my dojo, away from the impressionable youngsters I taught. Bruised and battered, he made his way back to the apartment and slumped into his bed.

I wondered how long he would be able to maintain this new regime. Nursing bruised muscles and torn ligaments, he was once again at the mercy of an addiction. This time the substance he craved wasn't alcohol, but intense exercise - burning with a rage I would never understand.

One day, Mikey came to see me at the dojo. He called me over excitedly, his face glowing with happiness.

"Leo, I found her." Mikey grinned. "The 'prostitute' Raph saved. I found her."

Leo