Me chanting: "Angst, angst, angst, angst!"
Mikey comes running at me with a steel folding chair.

This is the second to last chapter which addresses one of the (more prominent) loose ends that some of you picked up on in I Hate Space.

ⰎⰂⰎ

Lost in Translation

Ⰾ

He's watching him lying there sprawled comatose in the old yellowed bathtub, mind unresponsive to the living world, body as still as the clear water he changed minutes ago. Raph's gentle hand brushes against his bare temple and traces over the vacant, glassy eyes staring into space and seeing nothing. No flicker or reaction comes from them. He hesitates before laying his hand on his shoulder next to the paralyzing collar.

"Raph, come outside!" a bright voice breaks through the small, dusty window into the silent, somber bathroom. "The sun's out!"

He lingers for another moment before standing up and walking toward the door.

"Take care."

…

…

…

He wasn't aware he'd passed out…

Raphael is lying on his plastron, sprawled over the bed, and taking in the dark sleeping quarters for what feels like the third time in the past… however many hours. His internal clock's all messed up from his time on Falla's planet, and traveling in the depths of space doesn't really offer an easy solution to adjusting back except to keep track of Earth's convention of timekeeping, which they are still using even if it makes little sense for them to stick with it where they are and when they are.

He hasn't seen his phone since he got back, so he can't check to see what time it is now. The dimness of the room is telling him it's late, but the room was dark before too, when it was supposedly only early in the afternoon.

Whatever time it is, he definitely feels like he was passed out for at least a while. And the grogginess all throughout his torso and limbs is telling him it was finally a sound, dreamless sleep.

No, there was a dream… but it was gone even before he started waking up…

Eventually, Raphael pushes the calming haziness aside in favor of getting up. He's wondering where everyone is, and he's hungry.

Once he lifts himself up to sit, his eyes glance at the bed he and his brothers broke earlier. It looks untouched, just like before. Someone must have fixed it while he was asleep.

He sits on the bed for another minute, soaking in the stillness in the air and the realness of the room. He also hopes to shake off some of the drowsiness by being upright, but the room is too dark for that to be very effective, so it's not long before he stands up and heads toward the door.

The assaulting brightness of the corridor immediately forces him to a halt. He waits for his eyes to adjust, and once he finally blinks away the piercing pain, he quietly proceeds toward the common room, although a bit disgruntled by the artificial whiteness protruding from all directions.

Aside from these small responses to the world around him, Raph's head feels empty. Not in an emotionally numb or drugged way. More in the "just woke up and can't be bothered to think" sort of way. It's a welcome change.

This time he finds his way to the common room without any difficulty, like all he really needed before was just a refresher on where everything is. The doors slide open, and the moment he steps into the room, he sees April run up the flight of stairs toward him. She practically tackles him with a hug close to her chest.

"Oh, Raph, don't scare me like that ever again!"

Some of the lingering drowsiness is knocked right out of him, and Raphael feels dumbstruck for a moment.

"Sorry," he offers lamely.

"No," April shakes her head once she pulls away, "let me rephrase that. You scared me, but it's okay, okay?" Her hands are still firmly planted on his shoulders.

He nods once, and April smiles before pulling her arms back to her sides.

"Are you feeling better?"

While Raphael thinks about it, he realizes he doesn't just feel better; he actually feels pretty okay. Relieved. At least a bit. His mind still feels some of the numbing effects of sleep, but, even that aside, the anxiety that had a firm clutch on him only a few hours ago now has a loose hold.

The look on his face must be evident enough for April to get her answer because her smile becomes more confident.

"I'm glad," she says lightly. "C'mon, sit down with me."

Before following her, Raph looks back down the stairs where she came from to see Donnie and Casey sitting on the couch there and Leo and Fugitoid standing opposite them. They're in the middle of a conversation, and Leo's expression looks stern and unhappy from Raph's angle.

Some of the intensity disappears from his face when he glances up and notices Raph watching him. He gives him a small wave with one of his crossed hands. The other two boys notice and turn around to give Raph simple nods of acknowledgement too, their faces appearing equally serious. What expression the android is wearing is anyone's guess.

Raph isn't sure what to make of their reserved reactions except to return a nod himself. He wonders what they're talking about, but his attention is quickly stolen by his baby brother speaking up on his left.

"What do you wanna have for breakfast, bro?" Mikey asks where he's standing by the table and food machine.

Raphael stares. Breakfast? It's morning? He walks over and sits down between him and April.

"How long was I asleep?"

"Like, since yesterday afternoon, dude! You were out like a light and completely dead to the world. You didn't even stir when we moved you to the other bed. It was kinda adorable."

Raph cringes at the last remark but manages to quickly ignore it in favor of thinking back to when he fell asleep.

He and his brothers didn't get up from the bed once it broke. They only moved around until all four of them were sitting together with their shells against the wall, their butts in the new dent, and their legs slung up across the tilted mattress. Raph remembers that they talked some more after that. He can't recall about what exactly but it involved a lot of blinking through tears and laughing. He guesses he must have exhausted himself sometime at that point.

"So what will it be?"

Raph eyes the machine in front of him and recalls the last time he used it. He doesn't trust himself with it again so soon. "What do I usually have?"

"I dunno," Mikey says, shrugging, "probably bacon and eggs. You're pretty boring in the mornings."

Raph responds to the remark with a snort and a friendly, unbothered grimace before thinking out loud, "That does sound pretty good, actually." He nods in agreement. "You're the family cook; you do it."

"Coming right up!" Mikey beams excitedly and flamboyantly grabs the suction cup-looking appendage that receives their dish commands. It doesn't take more than ten seconds of exaggerated, loud humming by Michelangelo for Raph to have a big plate pushed in front of him.

"Your bacon and eggs! Sided with a stack of syrupy pancakes on the house specially for you," his brother says grandly, even though all the work he put into this plate was just in his head.

Raph smiles and eagerly digs in once the smells reach his nostrils and he can't hold himself back anymore. He reaches for a pancake first and hums in delight while chewing with his mouth stuffed full. "You know me better than I do!"

"Mhm, mhm, I know, I know, I'm awesome," his baby brother agrees with a series of knowing nods.

April rolls her eyes while successfully hiding her own amusement. She pushes a freshly poured cup of orange juice next to Raph's plate, which one of them must have already premade.

"Don't forget you need vitamins too."

Aside from Michelangelo occasionally stealing a bite, Raphael continues to eat breakfast alone, with the two keeping him company. He quickly learns that it's already well past ten in the morning, so everyone else has already finished their breakfasts a while ago.

After a good quarter of an hour of making up for missed meals, his fork starts to scrape against the surface of the plate.

His little brother happily watches him try to get all the leftover juices onto his last piece of pancake.

"I bet you didn't eat this good at that place."

Raph hesitates as he's involuntarily reminded of Falla and her cooking, but he thankfully manages to push the thought away as quickly as it arrives. He shoots Mikey a quick glare.

"Stop digging for compliments. You didn't even lift a finger to make this."

He flicks him across the nose out of an almost subconscious habit, and Mikey quickly clamps his hands over it, his blue eyes twinkling brightly.

"But my awesome brain gave birth to the juicy flavors!"

April beats Raph to a response. "Eww, don't say it like that!"

Raphael barely puts the last bite into his mouth when he notices the rest of the team making their way over. Donatello and Fugitoid stop right next to him, and the expressions on everyone's faces—including Mikey and April now—force Raph's guard up.

He slowly pushes the empty plate down the disposal hatch while eyeing the two tall brainiacs carefully. His brother has some kind of tablet in his hands.

"I know you just woke up," Donnie begins, sounding somewhat apologetic and reserved, "but, well, there's something we've been wanting to talk to you about since we got back on the ship. If that's okay with you?"

Raph tries to ignore his immediate discomfort. Is Donnie going to bother him with check-ups and invitations to therapy again? He better not try that again. But whatever it is, Raph already knows he won't be able to shut him down as easily this time since his brother has decided to have everyone gathered around him as an audience.

"Like what?" he asks.

Mikey pipes up before Donnie can continue, "Guys, what if we just forget I ever said anything? I could have just imagined it. My mind makes stuff up all the time."

Donnie's tense shoulders drop a fraction when he looks at the youngest member. "Mikey, I know you feel like you need to protect him, but there's really nothing to worry about. It's just—It would be weird if we didn't ask him about it."

Raphael's eyes have lowered while listening. He glances at Leonardo, standing right behind Donnie. He doesn't look happy about the confrontation either, just like Mikey and April.

"Ask me what?"

Donnie looks back down at him, and he hesitates before adopting an almost clinical air. "Fugitoid was able to find this in his computer database. Does it look familiar to you?"

Apprehensively, Raph breaks his stare to look down at the electronic notepad his brother has pushed toward him over the table. It's displaying a simple white image with small black symbols spaced out evenly in a few rows. Raph knows what it is, but he's suddenly confused as to why they're showing it to him.

"It's the alphabet they use," he simply states.

"Can you pronounce it?" Donnie asks.

Raph slowly nods before glancing back down and offhandedly reciting the first two lines of letters. He looks up to find them all gaping at him, and he immediately tenses up defensively.

"Hchee taught me how to say them. So what. What's this about?"

"You read them so fast!" Casey sputters.

Raph doesn't appreciate the weirded-out tone. "It's an alphabet, not rocket science. I learned most of it in like an hour."

"You mentioned you have trouble remembering most of your captivity, especially in detail. But you remember this without any difficulty," Donatello observes out loud.

Raph continues to frown. He's not sure what his nerdy brother is getting at.

Donnie leans over to swipe to the next image on the tablet. "Try reading this now."

It's a screenshot of some kind of short email from Fugitoid's main computer, Raphael immediately gathers, but he would need to zoom in on the image to be able to make out the letters in the words. Not that that would make a difference. Donnie can't seriously think he learned more than how to write down his name.

He looks back up to raise a questioning eyebrow at his brother, but he ends up seeing every one of them intensely watching him like he's about to perform a magic trick.

What's gotten into them?

When no one breaks the pregnant pause, he eventually responds with a resigned huff, "I guess I can technically read the words since each letter only makes one sound, but I won't understand anything…"

He zooms in on the image and opens his mouth to start pronouncing the series of syllables that they all want to hear from him so badly for some reason. But no sound comes out of his throat as his bright eyes immediately begin to skip ahead over the swirly cursive words. They only grow wider as he proceeds down the lines.

Casey nudges his arm after a tense pause with everyone waiting, but Raph can't tell what he asks next. All of his focus is on the message in front of him.

It's some kind of official invitation from a government border control and Fallachis Maika personally that allows the group to visit and stay at her home for up to ten days. What? They needed to get permission from Falla to even show up to his rescue?! Wh— … Why can he read this?

Raph's eyes dart up at Donatello. "What the hell is this?" he demands once he manages to find his voice. A sense of panic has started to flutter in his stomach again, and the shocked stares he receives in response to his question only make it grow heavier.

"What?"

Casey leans back, looking pale. "Yo, what the hell?"

Donnie doesn't look any less weirded out. His voice is croaky when he speaks. "Raph, English."

Raph feels like there's cotton in his head. Like his brain is lagging behind while taking in their words. His tongue feels weird, and all he manages to respond with is a short "uh?" from the back of his throat.

Fugitoid is the one who decides to try to break the confusion. "You're speaking in Govarian."

"No, I just—" What are they talking about? He grabs the tablet and stands up to push it into Fugitoid and Donnie's faces. "Why can I understand this?"

"Wait, you don't know?" Casey asks next to them.

"No!"

"Okay, okay, calm down." Donnie lifts his hands placatingly, one of them taking the tablet. He looks like he's trying to hide his own unease. "There must be a perfectly logical explanation for this." He turns to Fugitoid. "Professor?"

The android's static eyes blink, somehow appearing just as perplexed as the rest of the group's. He speaks up slowly and calmly, "Raphael, what exactly did the olm do with you besides teach you the alphabet?"

"Nothing!"

Donnie can't mask his pointed stare, and Raph knows he's wondering if Raph is stubbornly hiding something from them.

"They didn't do anything," he says again, frustration and alarm becoming more and more evident in his voice. "I swear I'm not lying to you!"

How can he know what they did with him? Or to him? He wasn't even aware he could understand their language! Let alone speak it, apparently! He had his stupid collar for that—

Raph's train of thought suddenly halts. He reaches up and touches the sides of his neck. He shivers from the sensation of his fingers against his skin. Now that he's paying attention to it, it feels strange that he can touch himself there so easily. His knee buckles when he makes an instinctive step in reverse.

"W-When did she take the collar off?"

"Raph, I think you should sit back down," April says, momentarily grabbing his hand. "We didn't see you wearing a collar."

Raphael steadies himself but continues to stand. His whole body is stiff from unease.

"That doesn't make sense. I-I had it. I needed it to breathe."

"No, the air there was breathable. We didn't wear our helmets, remember?"

"Raphael," Leonardo reaches out with his voice. "You told us you have trouble remembering. Maybe they just gave you something that allowed you to learn their language really quickly and you just forgot?" he says, probably in hopes of sounding reassuring, but is unfortunately unable to hide the frantic tinge in his voice, which makes Raph bristle and his heart plummet into his stomach.

"Then how the hell did I not forget the language?"

Leo doesn't have an answer to that. He's staring at him with a look in his eyes that Raph immediately averts.

"I don't have experience, personally," Fugitoid hastily interrupts the rapidly growing tension, "but I know some people who learned to speak foreign languages through hypnosis. Some simply prefer it over pouring countless conscious hours into studying or depending on translation devices. I'm fairly certain this must be the case here too, especially since it appears to be a subconscious ability."

"See, Raph, you were just hypnotized. No need to freak out," Casey says unhelpfully.

Raph is taken aback before frustration bursts out of him again. "What the hell are you saying?" How is Casey suddenly being so calm about this? Did he forget his own shocked face a minute ago?

"There's a normal explanation for it, so you can stop panicking," Casey tries to explain his view in his tactless way. "And now you even speak an alien language! I think that's pretty dope! I know like five sentences in Spanish and like a dozen curse words in Serbian thanks to my gran, and that's pretty much it."

Raph is scowling. That's besides the point. "I don't want to know an alien language!"

He suddenly feels like there's a disease inside him. His stomach twists. His hands feel clammy by his sides.

"Maybe look at it like this, then: Donnie wishes he could brag about something like this."

Donatello frowns slightly at the jab, but it doesn't redirect his attention as he looks at Raph reassuringly. "I don't like to say it, but Casey's right, Raph. I know it must feel weird, but as it appears, this is just a new skill you somehow acquired through hypnosis or maybe some other means. You can calm down for now. Especially since your mind seems to function normally besides this."

Raphael stares wordlessly. How are they not getting it? It's not about it being weird or whether there is or isn't an explanation for it. Yes, the explanation stopped at least a part of his resurfacing paranoid thoughts, but … he wasn't even aware he was capable of doing that! What else can he do, or has done, and has no awareness of? How can they claim he's normal if they don't know everything?

"I don't even remember almost anything from before I got sick," he says, repeating what they've already pointed out, and his voice comes out sounding so nervous that he clamps his mouth shut instead of elaborating.

Donatello nods placatingly. "And that explains your confusion."

Raphael's brothers and friends don't seem to really understand how terrified and queasy he feels right now. He just got back from being trapped for days somewhere with a bunch of giant aliens who barely saw any humanity in him, and he doesn't properly remember what exactly was being done to him or how he reacted to it. Falla wasn't evil in the regular sense of the word, but she knew how to get under his skin in the most sickening and invasive sort of way. She said and did things that forced reactions out of him that she then used against him in a never-ending loop until he didn't even see a way out of her pretend game anymore. She webbed her clawed fingers all over him, and toward the end, he felt like he wouldn't even be able to breathe if she decided so. The fact that she invaded his mind even so literally is making Raph sick just thinking about it.

And why can't he remember? Why are there suddenly so many questions popping up all over him—inside of him and outside of him? He can't even pinpoint a time in his faded memories where any of them could have taken place except for those two cursed days of complete blackness that he spent knocked out from his illness. He remembers getting sick, but was it really just that? Fugitoid said his blood looked too healthy for someone who was recently bedridden.

This time, the persuasive thought leaves his mouth the moment it forms. "I've gone insane."

He hates even thinking about it, but did the Fallas succeed in completely breaking his will? Did he crack under the pressure that night under the cliff, and now he's suppressing the truth? Is his mind trying to protect him from that knowledge with this unexplainable memory loss?

Or did Falla make him forget intentionally? Because he … did something horrible?

His left hand unconsciously balls up, and Raph's eyes grow shocked and distant.

Donatello looks divided on how to respond to him.

"Raph, I don't know how to tell you this without sounding condescending, but you were traumatized. What you've gone through was a traumatic experience. You're not insane for feeling what literally every person would be feeling in your place."

Raph doesn't even have the capacity to cringe at the mention of him and trauma in the same sentence anymore. The four brothers have been fighting for their survival almost their entire lives. It's been much more literal in the past year and a half, with plenty of battles where they've escaped death by the skin of their teeth, but this is their normal. They should be above getting traumatized. He would have brushed Donatello's viewpoint off a week ago. But right now, he can't even argue against it.

And how is being traumatized any different from being fucked up? "What difference does that make?"

Leo can't stand back any longer. He steps in and grabs hold of Raph's stiff shoulders, forcing him to finally look up from wherever his eyes have been absently staring.

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, Raph. We'll get over this together."

How can they be so confident in saying all of that? They don't know what else he could have… They don't know what he went through. They weren't there to see how he was acting.

"What about the blood test?" Explain that!

Leo is taken aback. "What about the blood test?"

"We don't have the whole picture," Donnie replies patiently. "There are outliers in medical science all the time, and on top of that, we still don't know almost anything about mutant turtle biology or how the mutagen might affect our blood. What's important is that you're okay and safe with us."

Raph isn't sure he truly feels either of those things. He's far from being okay, and how can he feel safe when he can't even trust himself? What if there's more? What if there's always going to be something else buried within him that will come out when he doesn't expect it? He could do something and not even be aware of it. What if he starts acting like… What if they see that… What if he hur—

Suddenly, he feels his baby brother's arms wrap around his waist, giving him a squeeze, before grabbing hold of one of his arms.

"Look at that; it's time for our training."

Raph is stunned as he is slowly and easily led away from Leo's hands and the conversation he thought he was trapped in.

"What…"

"You skipped it yesterday, but I'm not letting you get away from it again. You promised, remember?"

Raph stares, then looks back to see everyone standing back and letting this happen. Only Casey moves to follow, but Leo grabs the back of his hoodie before he can finish the first step.

What is Mikey doing?

The two are well down the first corridor by the time Raph finally finds his voice.

"Mikey…"

His brother doesn't turn to look at him, but he also doesn't let him finish whatever sentence Raph even wants to form.

"Look, Raph, I know I've never been the listening type, but trust me when I say there is really no point to some conversations."

Raph stops and pulls his hand out of the hold, which he finds surprisingly easy to do.

"But this is serious. What if…"

Mikey looks back with an unreadable frown. "What if what?"

He steps up next to Raph and proceeds to stubbornly lead him toward the simulation room with an arm hooked around Raph's shell and holding on to his belt.

The question sends Raphael back down the unwanted hole of speculation and uneasy thoughts. He's trying to form words that would make sense and ones he would be willing to say to his baby brother. By the time he's able to open his mouth again, he realizes they're already by the simulation room in the lower level, and Mikey is thoughtfully leaning over the control panel and talking to him—or rather, out loud to himself, given how little Raph has managed to take in.

"What will it be? A sewer battle Mortal Kombat-style or a rooftop boxing match? Ooor something else entirely…"

"Mikey."

His brother looks up.

"What if I was brainwashed into some kind of sleeper agent? I-I could go berserk at literally any sign and try to kill you all."

Michelangelo's eyes grow round for a prolonged second before he blinks and his expression scrunches up. He scratches his head in confusion. "Uhh… Is that a new game I don't know about?"

Raph knows Mikey understood him. What he's wondering now is why he's even bothering to try to get anything across to him when he's like this.

He glares, but Mikey surprisingly glares back, although only for a brief moment.

"This kind of thinking won't get you anywhere except freak you out, dude! Trust me, I'm an expert at freaking out. I can start with the what-ifs too, if you want. Observe: What if… what's really happening is you hit your head really hard on that planet and the part of your brain in charge of imagination just swelled up real bad?"

Raph can barely get over the shock of being mocked. He grits his teeth.

"What is wrong with you!"

"I'm not the one trying to feed me a line about being a sleeper agent!" Mikey snaps back equally loudly, his voice no longer hiding his upset. There is a fierceness in his eyes that Raphael isn't used to seeing.

"I know you don't actually think that! And I know that alien was really scary when she wanted to be, but she bought you to be her pet. Why would your mind even go there at all?"

Raph's not happy that his little brother knows about the pet thing. If he knows, then everyone knows. And Mikey is making a point Raph can't ignore. What is he actually, really so afraid of?

His left hand twitches, and he tries to think about anything but that.

"So," Mikey continues, observing Raph's face seriously, "if she happened to do something freaky to your brain, what could be the worst thing she would do?"

They've made it full circle back to what Raphael was already thinking about but also didn't want to reveal to them. Falla wanted a pet, and she could have made him act like one. She could have turned him into a happy, mindless puppet. She constantly tried drugging him with the candles at the start, and she literally threatened him by saying she knew ways of permanently changing his opinion of her when they were going through the history books and Raph lashed out with his tongue. That threat felt real and was very much something Falla would be willing to resort to if Raph wouldn't stop acting out.

He hates admitting it, but after a certain point, he did feel like her pet, and he was starting to behave submissively. There are moments where Raph can hardly recognize himself now that he's looking back on them.

"She could make me act not like myself," he eventually says, his voice tight from unease.

But there is one big flaw in this theory. Raph is not acting unlike himself now. At least not according to what his brothers are telling him. And if he looks at it objectively, he agrees with them. He's messed up and shaken from the whole experience, but he is essentially still himself. The way he acted at her home wasn't because he was hypnotized into behaving the way Falla wanted him to. He started to bend to her will because his own will started to break from all the pressure and exhaustion.

Mikey seems to know where his head has gone now. He pouts before jumping over to hug him.

"I never thought I'd need to say this, but you're definitely still you, and I'm really glad that you're still you. I wouldn't want my favorite brother any other way."

Raph feels a flutter in his stomach again, but this one is uncomfortable in the best way.

"Actually," Mikey suddenly pulls away enough to look up at him, "scratch that. You can be a real big jerk sometimes. It would have been cool if you'd been hypnotized into a big cuddly teddy bear."

Raphael can hardly follow the emotional rollercoaster Mikey is sending him on.

His eyes lower as a familiar glare sneaks onto his face.

"I'll give you a cuddly teddy bear!" he says and swipes his arm at his brother to put him in a headlock and give him a painful noogie.

But Mikey, the baby brother that he is, has been predicting this reaction. He squeaks and ducks his head just in time.

In the next moment, he takes off running into the simulation room that he had turned into the woods around April's old farmhouse, laughing and screaming once he sees Raph hot on his heels.

"Come here, you!"

ⰎⰂⰎ

I didn't realize that deciding to write strictly from Raph's POV would be so frustrating since I can't really defend the others' actions. I wonder if, while reading, you were aware that the team isn't undermining what they learn about Raph. They're backpedaling from blowing things out of proportion for his sake since he's panicking enough on his own already, and as a result, they're unintentionally frustrating and alienating him further. But even with this knowledge, I still wanted to hit Donnie on the head with a plastic bat a couple of times for even confronting Raph in such a way. Not that Mikey's any better at knowing what he's doing half the time.

I also want to bonk my past self on the head for deciding to write in the present tense. You'd think I'd have all these tenses figured out after, like, years and years of using English but there are so many and it's making my brain spark and crackle like it's got faulty wiring in there somewhere. DX