Author's Note: As promised a Raphael POV chapter. Full of self-loathing masquerading as Leo-loathing, punching things, misplaced anger, over-protective brotherly affection and Casey Jones bromancing.

Raph is a bit far from my comfort zone, but I gave it a shot and tried to scale back the vocabulary :0) Hope you enjoy it. Donnie will be back next chapter.


Chapter Twelve

Raphael

We've been sitting on this stupid roof for hours. The cold and rain have only gotten worse and our chances along with it. Leo is perched on the edge with his spyglass pressed to his eye. I don't know what he expects to see. Any sane person is inside, dry and warm. I punch my right fist into the palm of my left hand and pace the narrow pathway between air-conditioning units in an attempt to keep warm. I'm not sure if I even feel the cold anymore. Everything is a persistent sting.

This is stupid.

"This is stupid, Leo," I say, punching my palm again. He ignores me and that all-too-familiar spark of anger ignites somewhere deep in my guts. "I said, this is stupid."

"I heard you the first twenty times," he replies and the calm tone of his words only fans the spark.

He wouldn't be so smug if I shoved that spyglass…

"We need to find that truck, Raphael," he interrupts my red-tinged thoughts. "We know this has been a Purple Dragon meeting place in the past. One of them will show if we're patient."

"So we just sit here and wait?" I ask. This is an argument we've had a hundred times. I could recite the steps in my sleep. That doesn't mean it isn't worth having. "Donnie is working on the tracker. We can wait back at the lair, where…"

"I don't want to depend on Donatello fixing the tracker," he says, interrupting me. "We need a contingency plan."

There's that spark again. It flashes bright and clouds my thoughts. "What is your problem?" I demand.

I punch my palm again and not for the first time imagine it's my brother's face. He lets out a sigh and slides the spyglass into his belt. It's like he's making every sound and body movement that he knows will only make me angrier.

"I don't have a problem," he says slowly.

"You coulda fooled me," I say with a sharp crack of my neck. "Some great leader you turned out to be. It's nice to know you have faith in us."

There's a slight flinch at the corner of his eyes. If you didn't have to look at his face every day you might not have noticed it. He tries to hide it. He always tries to hide it, from his enemies, from me, it's a physical response and that's the last thing he wants to show. Because it means my words hit home. It means I've gotten through that stoic demeanor he tries so hard to put up. He forgets that I know him. I know exactly what to say to make him angry. It's a game we've been playing for as long as I can remember and if you ask me I'm still the champion.

"I…of course I have faith in all of you," he says around a scoff as if my words are the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. "That's not even a question."

He won't meet my eyes and I'm sure I have him cornered. "Not all of us though, am I right?" I insist, crossing the small distance between us to properly get in his space.

"What's this about, Raph?" he says, pushing back when I get too close. "If it's about Donnie…"

"Of course it's about Donnie," I snap, hitting his hand away with a closed fist. "You call him out here to take that tech apart when you don't even think he can do it. Why'd you bother dragging him out here if you're just going to cut him down?" I demand, pushing him with more strength behind the blow.

His back foot is firmly planted on the roof and he barely waivers. "I'm not cutting him down," he replies.

His face has fallen into a scowl. It's what I want. I want a fight. I push him again and hope that he pushes back so I have an excuse to hit something.

I don't expect anything from you, Raphael.

"And you said it yourself. He should have been out here with us in the first place. Do you really think now is the best time for him to be off on his own?" Leo says. He raises his voice but doesn't go as far to raise a fist so I push him again.

Through the growing haze of anger over my thoughts one image stands out above the ringing in my ears and the pounding of my heart. It's April. Standing in her pajamas with my brother's mask wrapped tight around her wrist with tears in her eyes. Tears I put there. She deserved it. She deserves to be the heartbroken one for once. She cries and leads him on and maybe she does care about him, but there's only one way the whole thing is going to end. This is a cruel, angry world and it doesn't have room for happy endings. Not for things like us. She's going to hurt him and maybe next time he won't come back from it. I have to protect him even if he doesn't want me to. I have to protect all of them.

I don't expect anything from you, Raphael.

"He wasn't exactly on his own, was he?" I ask, resisting the urge to wrap my fingers around the handle of a sai.

Leo blinks and the scowl disappears. "No," he replies, letting the word hang uncomfortably on the cold air. "But we're a team. We have responsibilities that have to come first. All of you need to realize that," he says and with those few words he's wearing his stoic leader mask again and I know a proper fight is no longer in the cards.

"You're right, Leo, you're always right. Nothing else matters except our responsibilities. Always work the mission, right?" I say, rolling my shoulders back and posturing.

There's a flinch at the corners of his eyes, but it's gone before it really begins and he turns his back on me. "Why don't you go back to the lair if you're cold," he says, not really making it a suggestion. "I'll keep watch."

I curl my fingers into a fist and feel the tremble reach up to my elbows. "Yeah, you do that," I mutter.

"He'll be fine, Raph," he says quietly without even the courtesy to turn around. "He always is. It just takes time. Don't try to force it."

"You just keep working the mission, Leo. Isn't that what's important?" I growl in response, diving off the ledge of the building into the stinging cold of the rain.

His words sound an awful lot like giving up to my ears and I don't have the patience to listen to any more of it. He thinks he understands. He doesn't, he never does. No one ever questions him. No one ever looks at him like there's something wrong. No one worries about him. He doesn't understand. He thinks everyone can just turn it off and work the mission. Don't think of anything or anyone. Just work the mission. Don't try to live your own life 'cause there are responsibilities in your way. Don't get angry. Don't try to have your own thoughts. 'Cause this is a team. Just work the mission. Fall in line. Do what you're told.

Robot, brownnoser.

I'm lost in that place where my thoughts are covered in red and the need to hit something, to lash out, is so strong I think my heart might explode out of my chest. I never see it coming until it's too late. I should be able to see it coming. I should be able to stop it, but I can't and I don't and then all I see is red. Red, and April in her pajamas with tears in her eyes and my brother's mask wrapped around her wrist.

I don't expect anything from you, Raphael.

I don't remember punching the wall, but I must have, because there is now a cracked indent in the bricks and pain, brighter than my anger is shooting up through my hand towards my elbow. It pulls me out of my haze, it usually does and I stand there panting, staring at my work. Shame usually follows the pain and flashes just as bright. I shouldn't let it get this far. I should have a handle on it by now. I do and I can't and everyone knows it. I pull my hand away from the wall and notice red splotches starting to blossom under the tape wrapped around my fingers.

"Whoa, Dude. Does that wall owe you money or something?"

I snap towards the voice, all coiled muscles ready to pounce. Casey holds his hands up with a nervous laugh and I feel that tension slide away with every cold drop of rain.

"Sorry," I grumble, rolling my shoulders and stretching out my aching fist. "Didn't hear, ya.'

"No worries, man," he replies, but keeps a respectful distance. "Things were getting a little too scientific down in the lair. Figured I'd help you and Leo bust some heads instead," he adds with a grin and a punch into his palm.

"I'm afraid there are no heads to bust," I reply with another careful flex of my hand.

"Is that why you were taking it out on that poor, defenseless wall?" he asks. He's teasing, but I know if anyone understands the need to hit something it's Casey Jones.

"Leo," is the only thing I need to say and he nods in understanding.

"Ya, know. Some day you two are really gonna fight this out," he says, dropping a puck to the ground and idly pushing it through puddles. "My money is on you if you're wondering."

"Mine too," I say with a snort and cuff to the back of his head. "Come on, let's get out of this rain. I'm freezing."

He flips the hockey stick into the bag he carries on his back and makes a half-hearted swing in my direction in retaliation. I easily dodge the blow and thwack him again for good measure. We take the slow, meandering route back to the lair. If Leo wants to sit out here all day in the rain staring at nothing he can be my guest. I drop down into the alley and wait for Casey to finish scaling the fire escape to the ground. He dusts off his hands and casts a nervous eye at the man-hole cover.

"Kind of a crazy day, huh?" he says with a sniff, wiping the rain from his face.

"No crazier than usual," I reply, uncertain where this is going and not liking being kept in the dark.

He's fidgety and nervous and avoiding my gaze. "So, uh, Donnie and April?"

There it is.

"Yeah," I reply, not bothering to deny or add any additional thoughts on the matter.

"It's, well it's weird, right?" he says around a nervous laugh. "I mean, what is she thinking? How is that going to play out?"

Do you honestly think I don't know it probably won't work out?

He's looking for an ally. He's looking for a friend and he thinks he has one in me. I hate all three of them for putting me in the middle of this.

"What do you mean, exactly?" I ask.

I'm aware of how even my voice is. How it isn't the tone of a friend or an ally, but someone looking for a fight. He takes a step back and blinks.

"Well, come on, man. I mean, no offense, but they're not even the same species," he rambles on quickly when it's clear that line of thought does nothing but offend me. "And even if they were, I mean, come on. Donatello? He's a huge nerd. She could do so much better. What could she possibly see in him?"

You're my brother. You're supposed to take my side.

"You don't…want to talk about him like that… in front of me," I say and he looks shocked at the anger behind my words.

I can feel it start to spark to life again and even worse I can see it reflected in his eyes when he settles into a glare. "Dude, you call him a nerd all the time," he says with an accusing point.

"That ain't the same thing," I say with a shake of my head even though it kinda is and guilt isn't too far behind my anger.

You're my brother. You're supposed to take my side.

"Like hell it isn't," he says with another bitter laugh. "You're supposed to be my friend, Dude…"

"I am your friend, you idiot," I snap, pushing him backwards. "But he's my brother and if I gotta take sides in all of this. I'm on his. It ain't gonna work out between them, it can't, but if I find out the reason it doesn't is you, you're gonna regret it."

There it is. All laid out without any way to take it back. I don't want to take it back. It's the truth. He shakes his head and pulls his hood up against the rain.

"Whatever, man," he grumbles, turning to leave.

He was looking for a friend, an ally and I only gave him an enemy.

"Casey."

He stops and I clear my throat. It's a poor attempt to hide the tremble in my voice so I try for a second time with little success. "I'm sorry. I know ya like her."

His shoulders tense for a few breaths until they drop with a sigh and there's defeat in his voice. "Yeah…I do," he quickly laughs it off. I understand. I don't like people thinking I'm weak either. "But hey, just means I get to play the field now, right? Should be fun."

"Huh, yeah, should be," I say with a drop of my own shoulders and an equally unconvincing laugh.

"There are some rink rats that are always hanging around practice. I'm sure they'd be an easy drop," he says with a ridiculous grin that makes me snort out a laugh.

"Classy," I say, punching him in the shoulder.

He laughs and takes a swing at me. I let him hit me this time. It's not like he could hurt me. We exchange a few more punches.

"It's getting late," he says, trying to land the last punch. "I better get going."

"Yeah, you wouldn't want to get grounded," I reply, punching his arm hard enough to send him stumbling forward.

"Shut up," he says, but there's an easy laugh behind his words.

"Are we all right?" I ask before I can stop myself.

He makes a noise halfway between a laugh and a sigh. "Yeah, we're all right," he says, darting forward to punch me again. "Don't cry about it, ya big softy."

He takes off at a run and snaps out the rollerblades on the bottom of his shoes and skates like something is chasing him; cackling like a maniac the whole time.

"Idiot," I mutter around a snort of a laugh before dropping down into the sewer.

It's been a long day. I'm cold and wet and all I want is to go home.