A/n: ... And here's where the story begins to earn its M rating. I got a bit carried away with the chapter length in this one - couldn't find a good place to stop, so you get an extra long chapter. Lucky you!

Thanks to everyone for the reviews. They're such a great kick of inspiration! :D

Chapter 5 - Silenced

.:…:.

He dreamed he was in a tiny dark space. It was stuffy, pressing in on him from all sides. The air was stale. There was bumpy movement, noises. Then the movement stopped. After a few minutes there was air, light. People were dragging him. Voices he didn't understand. The rattle of chains, the clang of metal.

When he woke from the strange half-dream an indeterminate time later, he found himself caged again. This time there was an additional chain between his ankles. It wouldn't allow his legs to stretch any further than a shoulder-width apart. Crud. He groaned. He wouldn't be catching them off their guard again. He was slowly losing control of all his limbs. He tried to hold on to his anger, grimly. When he was pissed off it was easier to ignore the slow panic building in his chest.

He felt like crap. His injured leg had begun to burn again. And geez, he could really use the bathroom right about now.

Once he'd groggily taken stock of his general discomfort, he realised that there were two figures in front of his cage, talking. There was movement in the background; men unloading from the back of a truck. More animals. There were no windows. He felt like he was underground. His mind was scattered, but he tried to focus on what the two figures were saying.

One was Darmonaz. The other was a woman with frizzy brown hair, pulled back into a ponytail. Her eyes were curious behind thin-rimmed glasses, and she wore a white coat.

"… really must improve the transportation of their livestock," Darmonaz was muttering to her. "At least the tiger fared slightly better. But this beast is unique. Now you've seen it for yourself, I was hoping you could give some suggestions on how to keep it, doctor. And how to keep it silent."

"Hmm," the doctor tapped her chin thoughtfully, examining Raph where he lay on the floor of the cage. "I'd agree with your assessment on the muzzle. And you say you don't want any permanent damage?" Darmonaz nodded confirmation. "So we can't simply cut out the tongue…"

"Gee, thanks," Raph rasped as loudly as he could manage.

"Ahh," the doctor breathed, bending closer to the bars, "fascinating. It may have been trained to speak… like a large reptilian parrot, if you will…"

Darmonaz looked bored. "As long as there's a way to shut it up, then I want it ready for display tomorrow night."

The doctor frowned. "That doesn't give me much time to work on it."

"Then I suggest you get started. I'm sure it's going to be one of our main attractions."

"I'm not an 'it'." Raph interjected venomously, raising himself unsteadily to his knees. "My name is Raphael."

"Not for long, turtle." Darmonaz gave him the cool smile of ownership. "We'll come up with a more suitable label, I think." He moved off, and the doctor followed him.

Raph resisted the powerful urge to lean his head against the bars. Damnit. Leo or Donnie would know what to do here. Heck, even Mikey would just have to flash those baby-blue eyes of his and they'd apologise, let him out and give him flowers and chocolates. What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to do?

At least he was being left alone for the moment. This place was much smaller and more cramped than the warehouse he'd been held in before. The truck had just finished being unloaded. Now its back doors were closed and secured, and it rumbled out a concrete driveway. Heavy double doors slid closed behind it.

One wall was stacked with small cages, each of which contained a very aggressive-looking dog. Sporadic barks echoed around the brick room. Other small cages held fighting cockerels, and there was one containing a bedraggled bald eagle. Larger animals, including Raph, were held towards the centre of the room. The tiger was there, trying to pace restlessly about the cage but effectively chasing its tail in the tiny space. Raph envied it; at least its chains had been removed. There was also a black bear, and a wild cat which, on closer inspection, appeared to have an extra limb growing from its side. The cage floors were littered with mouldy-looking straw and sawdust. It didn't take a genius to sense the misery in the air. This wasn't your regular, sanitised, family-friendly zoo.

But they had left him a bucket of water in the corner of his tiny cage. He shuffled over to it on his knees, suddenly realising how parched he was. He had to dip his face in to drink. The water didn't taste that clean, but at least it was cool and soothing. He slurped away at it awkwardly until the bucket was half empty.

"So this is the boss' latest and greatest catch. The famous talking turtle." A brash voice interrupted him. He raised his face from the water. The man who had spoken had drawn the attention of most of the other workers in the room, and he knew it. His chest swelled out.

"Looks just like another stupid animal to me, dribbling all over itself." Someone chuckled.

"Ya got a better suggestion, sparky?"

"Ohh, he thinks he's Mr. Wise Guy too, huh?" Raph drew himself to his feet, stumbling slightly against his new ankle chains.

"Given the competition, I'd say it's a pretty safe assumption." He bristled.

There was a bray of laughter from a young man in a dirty white singlet. "Hey Max, the turtle thinks he's faster 'n you!" The other men snickered quietly. Max turned an angry shade of red.

"He'll learn his place… stupid freak." He spat and it hit the centre of Raph's plastron, and began dribbling down. Gross, Raph grimaced, wishing he had his hands free so he could wipe it away.

Max seemed to feel that the status quo had been restored, for he abruptly lost interest.

"C'mon boys, let's get back to work." They drifted back to their tasks; feeding the animals, shovelling sawdust, changing water. Raph's stomach was growling at him, but he refused to ask for food. He doubted there'd be much point, anyway.

After a while the men left, shutting down the lights after them. With no natural light filtering in, the room was pitch-black. Was it night time? Raph had already almost lost track of what day it was, let alone what time. The animals seemed to settle down in the darkness.

Why does being trapped have to be so boring? He ached all over, and his leg still burned, but he wasn't tired. So he leaned his shell against one corner of the cage, closed his eyes, and attempted something he'd never been any good at.

He knew both Master Splinter and Leonardo were meditation experts. They could contact each other's minds like a dial-in telephone service, or so it seemed. Even Raph himself had managed it, once, with his brothers' help. They'd reached their Sensei when he was being held by the Shredder. But Raph had never achieved it on his own before. He'd never really understood how it worked. Most of the time, he preferred to communicate with his fists.

He tried to focus on his breathing. The backs of his eyelids were blank. Master Splinter. Leo. Anyone… Uh, I could really use some help right about now. I'm kinda stuck.

… Nothing. His mind was silent. He felt stupid. I never could pull off that damn trick. Feeling around behind his back, he pulled at the bars of the cage a few times experimentally, hoping for a rusted section or a bit of luck. Nope, nothing was budging. If only I could slip outta my shell, he thought sourly. If it were possible to do so, he might have just squeezed through the bars.

With nothing else to do, he curled up in the scruffy straw – the cage was too small to allow him to stretch out full length – and tried to sleep.

.:…:.

The lights flooding on brought him instantly awake and alert. The doctor and two men had entered the room. Even before he could get to his feet there was a dart in his arm, and his brain went half back to sleep again.

"S'like… freakin' déjà vu, or somethin'," he slurred out loud.

It took a while for him to register that the cage was open and the two men between them were half-carrying him, half-dragging him to a side door where the doctor waited. He needed to run. Running would be a good idea. Why couldn't he get his feet under him?

Through the door everything was white plastic and metallic surfaces. Instruments were laid out. Somehow he was on a table, and the cold of it on his skin sharpened his mind just enough to prompt some weak resistance. His chains were gone, but he blinked – a long, slow blink – and found himself cuffed to the table. The doctor pulled a spotlight over him.

"Wait," he tried to say, "no, wait." But the mask was coming down over his face, he had to breathe, they were putting stuff into his lungs.

Numbness. White.

.:…:.

When he awoke again it was a much slower and more painful process. Consciousness came in stages. He felt like he'd been out for a while. He forced his eyes to crack open. Back in the main room, in his cage. It was busy again, there were people milling around. The light made his head hurt. Shoulders ached in relief because his hands had been re-chained in front of him this time, for some reason. There was noise. What …?

Confusion. God knew how many and what kind of drugs were still floating around in his system. He was pretty sure his vision wasn't usually this fuzzy, and his limbs didn't usually tingle and prickle like that. His stomach was empty and acidic.

Hang on. The human voices nearest to him sounded kinda panicked. Focus, he begged his sense of hearing.

"I thought you said it'd be awake by now!"

"Well, it should be! I calculated the dose in ratio to its body weight. It should be fine. There must have been residual traces in its bloodstream from its earlier handling by those idiots at the supply end."

"Boss is gonna be pissed. Should I tase it? Might wake it up a little."

"No, you idiot! You'd be more likely to knock it out again." It was the doctor, and she sounded exasperated.

Raph decided he'd had quite enough electrical shocks in the past couple of days to last a lifetime.

"Don't get your panties in a twist," he tried to say, "I'm awake."

But nothing happened It… there was something wrong. His face hurt. He couldn't… He tried to suck in a deep breath, and found he couldn't get his mouth to open. Up, he told himself frantically, get up, find out what the shell is going on.

It took him much too long to get to his feet. He tried to raise his hands to touch his face, searching for the source of the stinging pain, but found his cuffs were connected to an iron ring on the floor by another length of chain. His movement was jerked to a stop; he couldn't raise his hands above his waist. And his ankles were still hobbled.

"…Finally," the doctor was saying.

"No time for your check-up, Doc." It was Max, full of his own self-importance. "Doors open in just two minutes, and it's got to be out there in the display room when the crowd comes in."

"Get moving, then. We'll just have to hope the stitching holds."

Stitching? he thought with a growing sense of foreboding. With a concentrated effort he managed to focus his eyes downward (though it made him dizzy), and at the edge of his vision he could just see something black and wiry. No. Oh, hell no. He tried to open his jaws again and felt something pull horribly in his flesh. The pain was instantaneous, but his shocked cry was trapped behind closed lips and emerged only as a low groan in his throat, which he immediately hated himself for. It was a pitiful, disgusting noise.

They'd sewn his mouth shut.

His breathing was becoming quick and shallow. His nostrils flared, working overtime to draw in enough oxygen to satisfy his thudding heart. He knew he had to calm down, steady his breathing. He was already light-headed enough from whatever anaesthetic they'd put him under.

But just as he began to get himself under control, the cage moved with a jolt. Four men were wheeling it out through the double doors. He tried to throw out one leg to regain his balance, but the ankle chain jerked him short. He tipped sideways and his shoulder hit the bars painfully.

"Goddamn chains," he growled without thinking. But the sound that came from behind his closed lips was nothing like words. It was an animal noise of rage and fear, unintelligible. The men wheeling his cage paid him no attention. Out the double doors, they moved a short way along a dreary concrete service passage before entering another room.

This place was made for presentation. The floor was still concrete, but the walls were panelled in gleaming wood. It was open plan, with a slightly raised platform at one end. The men wheeled Raph's cage up the ramp on to the platform, and left him there. Raph worked on getting his breathing back under control as he peered out between the bars.

The dog cages had been moved around a fenced circle that had been set up near the centre of the room, sand covering the floor inside the ring. There were displays on the walls, and tables holding the bodies of strange, deformed creatures in glass preservation jars. Other cages were dotted around the room, each labelled with a sign on a stand nearby. The animals inside looked restless. The tiger was trying to prowl again. Raph was jerked out of his own predicament just long enough to feel a little bit of guilt. If it wasn't for me, Tigger might have been outta here by now. If I'd known this was where we'd end up, I woulda just let him eat that stupid guy.

His thoughts were interrupted as Darmonaz strode into the room. Just the sight of the man made Raph long to cause some damage to something.

"Is everything ready? Good. It's time to open. Clear out all the men who aren't needed on the betting tables." He gave orders as he carried a display sign over to the platform where Raph's cage rested, about a metre above floor level. He smiled at Raph coldly when he caught sight of the doctor's needlework.

"Perfect. You look just as ferocious as I'd hoped. My audience is going to love hating you."

Raph burned with the need to retaliate. He made the only noise he could, smashing the metallic cuffs around his wrists against the bars of the cage. He glared straight into the man's eyes.

Darmonaz looked back unflinchingly. He was really looking at him this time, and the lack of hesitation or self-doubt in his expression was crushing. This man knew, Raph thought suddenly, he knew that his most recent acquisition wasn't just another mere animal. He knew Raph was sentient, and at least intelligent enough to understand what was being done to him. He knew exactly what he was doing. He just didn't give a damn.

That shook Raph more than he'd admit, even to himself.

"Alright," announced Darmonaz loudly. "Everything's set. Open the doors."

.:…:.