After a Lifetime

Ⰾ summary:

Raphael is finally back on the ship with his family, but something's not right. With him. He feels out of sync with himself and the rest of reality. In the most literal way possible.

Takes place immediately after I Hate Space. Just like that story, this is not for the faint of heart.

Ⰾ notes:

A late semi canon epilogue-y follow up fanfic-of-a-fanfic of I Hate Space on the team's side of things. I say "semi canon" because I prefer to believe Raph being reunited with his family post that story is more wholesome and comforting, and less haunting and him repeatedly going, "What the hell is going on? Actually I don't think I wanna know. But no, what the hell? Nope! I don't wanna know!" But my need to write disturbing angst has risen again and lo and behold I have written disturbing angst. ✌

Initially this started as a one-shot but somewhere in the middle I split it into a few chapters for clarity and my sanity while editing because it ended up being much longer than I intended. (the story of literally every writer I know DX) Also don't expect an actual story structure with a beginning, middle and an ending this time around. Like I said, this is just me venting by writing angsty scenes. I put Raphael in a pickle jar and shake him around until I feel better, it's not that deep.

Oh, and I tried my hand at writing in the present tense, something I've always felt very awkward about. Let me know how I did, or if I messed up anywhere in there and switched to the wrong tense.

Enjoy!

ⰎⰂⰎ

Old Memories of Days Barely Gone

Ⰾ

The sound of water hitting the white alloy floor echoes and hums through the empty, sterile shower room. Like unbroken white noise, it fills every corner with an almost palpable artificial buzz. Underneath its paper-thin layer, a still silence, a waiting suspense, hangs, ready to swallow the only occupant.

Raphael is sitting still under the only open shower head, letting hot water stream down his slouched body. His head is bowed, and he's staring in front of himself at the inside of his foot.

There's a faint row of short scars there, in the fold between his big toe and sole.

He's been staring at them for minutes now, ever since he noticed them when he sat down cross-legged to enjoy the warm shower after more than a week of shivering in the cold.

A sinking feeling is expanding within him, smoldering some of the relief his rescue has brought. He doesn't understand it, and he's not sure he even wants to. But the scars feel like a warning someone left for him to find, and he can't shake this feeling off.

They are six tally marks cut into his skin, where only he would notice them.

The scars were cut with the intention of remaining, but they look old. The first pale vertical line seems the most faded and hardest to make out, and the last one, despite being the most visible, standing alone and uncrossed, still looks years old. But who made them? What are they keeping track of? And why was he never aware of them being on his own body? No. He knows they were never there before. He would remember getting them. Just like the one on…

The one on his…

He became aware of that scar yesterday when he was traveling back to the Ulixes with his brothers and friends, and with the new shock suddenly adding to the whirlpool of emotions already reeling inside him, he hid it from them.

With careful movements, Raphael lifts his left arm and places the hand, palm facing up, on his lap.

There's wider, much more visible, and ugly scar tissue there, running right across his wrist, and it's making Raph feel lightheaded just looking at it again.

His arm begins to tremble.

When…?

How…?

The bathroom door slides open, and Raph is yanked out of his deep well of thoughts. He pulls his arm to his chest and his knees up so all the questions and secrets are out of sight, and he turns his head to see his youngest brother entering the steamy room.

"Hey, Raph, you've been in here a while. You good?"

"Yeah. I just…" He stands up abruptly and closes the hot water. "It was cold there, on that planet," he answers lamely, being more mindful of which direction his wrist is facing.

"Oh." Mikey stands awkwardly in the doorway for a brief moment longer before moving closer to where Raph has started toweling himself off.

"What was it like?" His voice is uncharacteristically subdued. "…If you wanna talk about it."

Raph shrugs. "It's been a while."

A short pause. "…Since yesterday?"

That doesn't sit well with Raph. He remembers yesterday very clearly, despite all the confusion and fear he experienced throughout the entire day. All the days before that … feel like forever ago.

Yes, he was sick and asleep for a day or so, but he's been very sick before, and he's had plenty of concussions that left some memories blank. This feels different. Odd. Dreamlike.

He'd like to blame it on the candle or any other drugs or medication Falla might have given him that he isn't aware of. But the scars—they're giving him anxiety.

He grabs the clean suede wrappings he left on the sink with the rest of his somehow rescued gear and quickly starts working on wrapping up his left wrist.

"You were there for, what, a day?" he mutters. "You had to notice the cold and the stronger gravity."

He eyes Mikey from the corner of his vision.

His brother awkwardly shifts his feet next to him. "Maybe a little bit, but we wore our space suits, and they kinda canceled out some of that."

Right.

"But I was just wondering about the actual location. Did you get to see much of it? It looked a little bit like the woods around April's farmhouse. …I miss those, compared to this." Mikey skids his heel across the floor and vaguely gestures around them.

Raph also prefers nature to the eye-straining whiteness and lifelessness of every steel corner of the Ulixes. Even during his captivity, he began to appreciate that aspect of Falla's home, despite all the fear and helplessness it also brought along with it.

He must have been quiet for a while, lost in his thoughts, because he is brought out of them by Mikey quietly apologizing.

"Donnie told me I shouldn't ask you about it. I was just curious."

"'S okay."

He finishes wrapping his wrists and sits down on his butt on the floor to work on his feet. His movements are reflexive yet meticulous; knowing how to pull and twist the fabric around his foot and ankle by heart. But the feeling of the material wrapping over his skin feels alien to him. He ignores it.

Mikey kneels down next to him.

"I liked the nature there," Raph finally answers, just to break the widening silence between them. "You could smell the dirt and plants. And the sun felt nice. The view from the mountains was amazing."

Raph is surprised by his reminiscing words, but they make his brother relax next to him. Some of the tension in the steamy air subsides, and Mikey scoots closer and grabs one of Raphael's knee pads to help speed up everything.

"If you're feeling up for it, we can go to the holo room for some ninja-ing after breakfast," he proposes hopefully.

"The what?"

"The simulation room."

"Oh, yeah…" Raph thinks absently. "I forgot about that."

Mikey raises a brow at him, but he doesn't comment.

Raphael, however, doesn't fail to notice.

Half of his excuse for taking a shower was to have a few minutes away from his family and friends. He feels like they haven't been able to get back on the same wavelength since they all settled back on the spaceship, and it's making him feel out of place.

He hates how they keep switching between walking on eggshells around him or prying into him with all the worst questions and looks in their worried eyes. And occasionally they give him strange looks; they either think he doesn't notice or think he understands when Raph, for some reason, does or says something odd in their opinion.

Despite what they might think, Raph actually likes it when they lose their restrained attitude and smother him with affection. He's missed them so much that it still hurts deep in his chest. But physically, Raphael is completely fine, unlike any other time one of them would get ambushed or captured by their enemies. And the guys are obviously unsure of how exactly to approach this new situation and what exactly would make Raph most comfortable, so instead they're keeping an odd distance while still keeping a close eye on him.

Raph gets it, but he would be lying if he claimed all their beating around the bush with a magnifying glass wasn't upsetting him. Honestly, he'd prefer if they would all just pretend that nothing happened at all, so everything could go back to normal, because he can't seem to recall what that was like on his own.

… Training sounds normal.

"Sure, I'd like that." He manages to crack a small, genuine smile for his baby brother.

"Awesome! But first: breakfast pizza!"

Pizza…

He hasn't had that in ages…

Once Raph has all of his old gear on and he ties his mask on the back of his head, trying to ignore the precocious feeling of nostalgia as well as the strangeness of the fabric being there, they leave the bathroom.

In the corridor, his steps quickly pause, however—he's unsure where to go—and Mikey stops too.

"The common room's this way."

"Right."

He's been having a hard time finding his way around the ship since he got back, and it's one of those things they've all noticed and are finding weird, including himself.

His brother gives him another quizzical look, and this time he opens his mouth to ask about it.

"You sure you're okay, Raph?"

That's a good question, and one Raph, for once, can actually answer. But he still decides not to be entirely truthful.

"Yeah, don't worry. My head just feels a little fuzzy."

He doesn't want to worry them more than they already do. It's not like he can exactly explain what's wrong with him without sounding crazy and paranoid. Yes, he does have physical proof right on his skin to back up the paranoia webbing itself all over him, but he doesn't want to draw any kind of attention to that. He just wants to put everything behind him and move on from the awful experience.

They make their way down the corridor, past their sleeping area, where Raph barely slept last night, still coming down from the realization that he'd been rescued, and toward the lounge that serves as their all-in-one kitchen, dining room, and living room area.

They walk side by side, and Mikey keeps especially close, occasionally brushing shoulders with Raph.

Raph can practically feel the change in the air as seconds tick by and the silence becomes uncomfortable again.

"I didn't say anything yesterday, but…" Mikey sounds reserved and careful again, "I'm sorry."

"For what? Being clingy?" Raph bumps his brother's shoulder with his own, which makes Mikey stagger to the side.

"Hey!" Mikey catches his stance. "I think I have the right to be a little bit clingy," he says with a smirk, but the smile quickly disappears from his freckled face. "But you know what for."

They've reached the sliding door, and Mikey stops and faces him.

"If I hadn't acted so stupid on Niktikleptis, maybe you wouldn't have gone through all of this. And then between those parked ships… I know it must have looked like I abandoned you." He looks shamefully off to the side as he says this.

Raph honestly doesn't recall any of that. The word Niktikleptis is faint in his mind, only clear enough to bring forth fuzzy impressions of an oversized, dirty, neon sign littered maze. He knows he was pushed into a van or something there and taken to a megalomaniacal black market. There was a gross giant larva, and a psychotic hairy alien, and another insane raptor alien, and that's as close to the murky surface as Raphael wants those memories to reach. He doesn't want to recall any details.

He's watching his little brother. The guy looks ridden with guilt, and, despite all of Raph's doubt, one thing is for certain: he hates seeing him like this.

"I don't know about that, Mikey, but didn't you also brag about how you guys tracked me down because of some quick thinking from you?"

Mikey shrugs, and his expression remains solemn.

"Hey," Raph grabs his shoulder, and he doesn't think, he just says. "Stop beating yourself up. That's Leo's favorite hobby already. Or do I really have to start knocking sense into each one of you guys?"

Mikey continues to stare to the side, still not smiling despite Raph's coaxing. In a final attempt to bring out a reaction, the less affectionate brother pulls him into a one-armed hug.

Mikey looks surprised to have Raph nuzzle the side of his face.

"You're the best," he says in a big brotherly way. "Don't think otherwise." And when Raph pulls away, he's smirking again. "But don't tell anyone I said that. Mr. Perfect might get another complex or something."

He finds the button for the door, and when it opens, he moves to walk in, but Mikey stops him with a proper hug that would have knocked the wind right out of him if he didn't have a shell protecting him.

"No, you're the best!" he tells him. "I'm so glad we found you, Raph."

Raph smiles back and wraps his arms around his shell. A large part of him relaxes in the embrace.

Everything about this interaction feels right, despite his initial uncertainty. He just has to follow his instincts until his head clears up, and he'll click right back into place with everyone. He reminds himself that he doesn't have to be so paranoid around his family and friends. The nightmare is already literally light years behind them.

"Aww."

Raph looks up to see April and Leonardo in the small dining area close to the door, sitting by the table that surrounds the food-producing machine they use to get their meals. They're both looking at their display of affection with different degrees of amusement. Any other time, Raph would be at least a bit embarrassed, but he doesn't really mind. They spent the whole evening hugging; what's one more?

Mikey's the one who pulls away, grinning, and shuffles to the table to have his (second?) breakfast.

Raph isn't far behind. He sits down at the other end of the rounded table, next to Leonardo.

His big brother offers him one of those still, reassuring gazes that could make the end of the world seem okay by his side. Raph, as stressed and scared as he's been for the past week, can't even think about it being sappy.

"Hey."

"Hey. It's good to see you back in red."

Raphael nods, appreciating the sentiment. But on second thought, he's not sure what to think because it brings the feeling of the mask lying over his face to the forefront of his mind. He fingers the two tails thoughtfully before pushing them over his shoulder.

In hindsight, seeing his brothers and friends for the first time yesterday was a quiet subconscious series of "oh yeah, that's right" as he took notice of every detail about them. It was like the blurry, almost dwindling image of them stepped forward out of the fog. Seeing his brothers' masks reminded him that he had his own, and that thought came as a surprise, which then caused him confusion over that being surprising to him.

He still doesn't understand why he's taking in so much information that he knows he shouldn't have to be reminded of, like some kind of reverse culture shock. They've been separated for a week. Why did it feel like years?

Suddenly, there's something like a suction cup right in front of his face. Raphael stares at the strange device attached to the food machine, which he realizes Leonardo is passing to him.

"For thinking up a breakfast."

He takes it carefully. "Yeah, I know. Thanks."

"Know" is a strong word. He could have probably guessed what it's used for, though.

Uncertainly, he brings the end toward his forehead.

He doesn't think about a specific food, just breakfast in general. After a moment, the machine opens a hatch in front of him to reveal a hot cup of tea, a plate with a few slices of black bread, a bit of butter, and another small cup of honey.

He grabs a butter knife from the stash of Earthen cutlery Fugitoid had 3D printed for them and starts buttering up a slice.

By the time he's spreading honey over it too, Leo seems to take notice of his breakfast.

"What's that?" He's looking at his plate. "Rye bread?"

The way he says it puts Raphael on edge. What weird thing did he do now?

"What's wrong with rye bread?"

"Nothing, I just don't remember ever having it."

Raph's getting upset again, but he tries to bottle it up. "Well, here. Have some then." He passes him a plain slice, almost defensively.

Why is it weird? What does he usually have for breakfast? He glances across the table. Mikey's gobbling down exactly what he said he was going to have: a pizza … with toppings only he can enjoy—no surprise there—April's having a croissant with a cup of coffee, and Leo has a bowl of sugary cereal in front of him while he's sniffing the bread slice like he found it on the ground.

Eventually, he takes a bite of the dark, compact bread.

"Tastes sour," he comments.

The entirety of Raphael is feeling sour.

He has half a mind to push his whole breakfast down the recycling garbage hatch attached to the machine when his attention is suddenly stolen by the door sliding open behind him. He glances back to see Donatello entering with his electronic staff in his hands and a focused look on his face.

"The results are back," he announces—more like mutters—not looking up from the small screen that's being displayed from the end of the stick.

"Turns out we were inhaling chemicals while we were staying in that house. Good news: it isn't anything dangerous, just a mild sedative that made us complacent. The effects wore off after a few hours, and all traces of the drug should be completely out of our systems in a few days."

Everyone is listening.

"I definitely didn't feel complacent," April says disdainfully from her seat. "But that explains why Leo didn't go berserk trying to kill everyone."

Raphael glances at his mentioned brother's face, but he can't read the reserved expression there.

Another voice speaks up: "But how did that alien woman manage to drug us without us realizing?"

Raph turns further around on his seat to look down the stairs opposite the door, into the lower part of the common room, and notices Casey's head popping up from behind the back of the couch. His hair is disheveled, probably from lying down.

"I don't know," Donnie replies truthfully. "My first thought was the food, but Fugitoid says we were most likely inhaling it, and for a longer period of time. Probably in the guest room. Maybe there was a special ventilation system…"

Falla probably used her freaky candles to keep them in check, Raph thinks to himself. She used her candles whenever she wanted him pacified and complaisant. It only makes sense that she would use one to help manage a whole group of angry teenagers.

Telling them that he was kept docile because of a scented candle isn't something he wants to share, so Raph silently turns back around to face his breakfast.

He grabs the slice he prepared and takes a bite.

The familiar sweet and sour flavors meld in his mouth.

Suddenly memories of breakfasts in the morning room flood Raphael's vision, but before he can get over his shock and begin to wonder why there are so many of them, all melding together, he's suddenly there, in the wooden high chair, being assaulted with feelings of confusion and haziness and—underneath it—violated boundaries he wasn't even aware he had.

His limbs are numb and cold despite the bright sun streaming through the glass… and why is… is it white outside?

There's a hand suddenly on his shoulder.

"… El."

His whole frame goes rigid.

"Raphael?"

His head snaps to the side.

Leo's face is there, looking at his wide eyes with his own frightened ones.

Who did he expect to see when he turned around?

Leo looks like he wants to ask him the same thing, but he refrains for Raph's sake.

"Donnie's talking to you."

Raphael feels sick to his stomach and lightheaded, but he manages to force down the dry food still in his mouth and turn around. When he does, he feels the air move and shift around him. The presence of his body in the room—the here and now—is at the forefront of his awareness, arguing with him that he didn't just glitch out of this reality for a few seconds.

Donnie is facing him. A silent pause with everyone watching in concern passes before he speaks up.

"Fugitoid proposed that you also take a blood test to see if you have any drugs still in your system. Just a precaution in case you were given anything dangerous, since you're— And, well, we all took the test just earlier, too."

Since I'm not right, Raph thinks, feeling shaken and restless.

"Sure," he shrugs and stands up.

"No hurry. Finish up eating first."

"Oh, I'm done."

He turns around just long enough to dump his breakfast down the garbage hatch, trying not to really look at it while he does, and then he's at Donnie's side, itching to leave because he can feel everyone's eyes on him.

"See you afterwards for training?"

He looks at Mikey. He's not sure, but it feels like his brother is directly trying to tell him something with his relaxed posture, the complete opposite of everyone else's intense focus.

His shoulders relax a fraction, and he nods. "Yeah."

ⰎⰂⰎ

New chapters will come out weekly on Fridays. There will be a total of five of them.

Oh, and I guess I should probably say that, I refrained from using cursing in I Hate Space, but not here. There are a number of f-bombs and shells without s-s littered in this.