I hope you've liked the previous two chapters. I'll warn you: this one's a real doozy.

What's a doozy? You'll have to read and find out. Soon, you will understand, young grasshopper. Oh, and don't hesitate to comment. I like reviews!

Summary: Raph is sure he can't take Leo's almighty attitude any longer. He channels his rage through the Nightwatcher, a mask he puts on to beat down criminals of all kinds. However, when Raph (as the Nightwatcher) is captured by desperate criminals, he begins to realize how much he really needs a leader. He also might have found love in the process. RaphxOC, M/M SLASH! Don't like, don't read.

Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT.

Raphael struggled with the blackness that strangled him. The pain in his stomach caused him to writhe, though he knew not where he was. An intense pounding began to build in his head, so all he could do was clutch at his temples as he vomited on the rank earth.

Suddenly, there came bliss. He felt strong arms lift him up; he was being carried by someone. A kind of warmth shot up through his system, melting his pain away. Still, Raph found himself reluctant (or rather, unable) to emerge from the blackness that covered him like a blanket of shadows, ensuring that his true identity would not be revealed. The stranger hadn't even attempted to take off his armor.

He drifted farther into the soft darkness, a smile on his face, painfully aware of the fact that he had probably been discovered by some human who was going to turn him over to the authorities. However, the arms felt warm and gentle. Raph didn't want to pull away.

He was vaguely aware of being carried through several alleys, twisting and turning until he lost the mental map of the city that had been engrained in his brain for so very long. Drunken as he was, Raph mused, it was probably not a difficult task.

Next came several doors, leading through many more confusing hallways. Raph didn't even bother to open his eyes-he was still too groggy, though he no longer felt the urge to vomit. He guessed he was in some sort of medical facility, or a research center. What surprised him, though, was the smell of the place. It didn't smell of chemical reactions or bleach, like he would have expected. Really, the place smelled strongly of lavender, as if someone had been burning a scented candle.

Raphael found himself spent; he wished desperately for sleep. He didn't know what these people would do to him, though, or if he would ever wake back up again if he allowed sleep to claim him.

"Jet," a man's voice above him whispered. Raph perked up at the sound of the human's voice, one that sounded old with stress, and slightly strained from the task of carrying him. Raph still marvelled at how the man had managed it. The voice had something else in it, too. It was a voice that blazed with a certain fiery authority; one that expected to be listened to.

"Sir?" the one called Jet, the meeker voice of the two, replied. Jet's voice seemed calm, so Raph guessed that Jet had not seen him yet.

"Help me set him up in the red room." Not a question, an order. The tone remined Raph of Leonardo, and he flinched visibly. The human carrying him quickly let up what little pressure he had put on Raphael, like he didn't want to further hurt him. But why would that matter? Raphael was sure that he would be experimented upon eventually, anyways. He just couldn't bring himself to care. Maybe it was better this way..

"But Flame, that's-"

"I am aware, Jet," the human, Flame, replied sternly. "Now go do it, we don't have all day. Let's hope he hasn't got alcohol poisoning."

"As you wish, sir."

Raphael was slightly jostled as the pair made their way to yet another room. He was placed softly on a cushiony mattress, blankets were pulled over him. Raph's brow furrowed. Why were they being so kind? Surely, they had seen what he was by now. His Nightwatcher gear did not disguise his form that well.

"Jesus, take a look at this crap. He's encased in that metal, head to toe," Jet spoke absently, a soothing voice that lulled Raph deeper into the darkness. He was so close to sleep now. He didn't protest as his helmet was carefully lifted from his head.

Raphael didn't hear anything for a good while after they did that. He didn't need to hear their reactions or see the looks of horror on their faces (he was sure they were present, anyways). He kept his eyes shut against the light of the room until one set of footsteps retreated from his side and his world became utter blackness once again, the light switch flipped off. He succumbed to it this time, despite his best efforts, and fell fast asleep.

After several hours, the soft noise of a door opening brought Raphael back to reality. He opened his eyes, and the bright light made his head throb. He abruptly closed his eyes again, letting out a petty whimper that he would deny vehemently later.

"Thank you, Demetri," a voice beside him murmured, and Raph started again, opening his eyes wide (earning himself another undignified yelp as the light in the room assaulted his retinas) until he recognized the voice as Flame's. A very familiar-looking old man stood beside Raph's bedside, holding two cups of coffee.

"It's you," Raph groaned, squinting again. The old man chuckled and set one of the cups on an end table next to Raph's head.

"Indeed. If I had known the wine would do this to you, sir, I might never have bestowed it," the old man replied, his voice gentle. He laid a hand on Flame's shoulder, and Raph finally got a good look at the guy. Flame had his mug of coffee raised to his lips, and shining yellow eyes surveyed Raph from over the rim of the cup. Tousled red hair sprung out in wild directions from Flame's head, but judging from the guy's freckle-free skin, it was probably artificial.

The old man noticed the object of Raph's stare, and hurried with introductions. He turned to the younger man and bowed slightly, a gesture Raph found quite odd.

"Sir, this fellow here is Raphael-the one who helped me, in the alley, also known as the Nightwatcher, I presume?" The old man turned briefly to Raph, who hesitated for a moment before nodding. "I gave him a bottle of your wine as a token of gratitude. I am most terribly sorry, sir, for disturbing you, especially on your morning run."

Flame, who had remained politely motionless throughout this entire speech, simply nodded and stood in response, smiling at the older man as he made his way to the door. The two exchanged a glance that Raph couldn't decipher. Raph winced. The guy was still in his sweats, though they looked dirty and torn. He wondered how exactly Flame had managed to carry him here. Halfway to the door, Flame turned back, as if suddenly remembering something.

"I have business I must attend to-I'll be with the trainees if anything goes wrong, Demetri. I expect you to attend to Raphael's every need while I am gone, though no more wine, for now," Flame then had the audacity to wink in Raph's direction. Raph's blood boiled, and he felt a flush rising in his cheeks. Flame turned back to Demetri. "Keep him here until the room stops spinning, and have Jet patch up that hand. When all is done, I shall escort him home personally."

"Yes, sir!" Demetri smiled brightly, and Flame left without saying anything further. Again, Raph was painfully reminded of Leonardo. His brother had probably searched half of Manhattan for him already.

The door clicked shut behind Flame, and Raph couldn't help but feel as if this was a very, very bad thing. He risked a glance upwards, only to find Demetri staring back down at him, an unreadable expression on his face.

"How soon will I be outta here?" Raph asked. A nervous feeling began to build in his gut as Demetri smiled wider.

"Oh, I believe you are mistaken, Raphael," Demetri replied evenly, punching a button on a remote Raph hadn't been aware the old man was holding. A beep sounded from some far off system, and almost instantly, metal coils sprang from Raph's bed, clasping around his arms and legs. Raph struggled violently against the restraints, but found (with great displeasure) that he could not break them.

"What-What are you doing?!" Raph snarled at Demetri. His muscles bulged, straining against the thick metal straps.

Demetri fixed him in a withering glare, and Raph suddenly found it hard to believe that the old man had ever seemed kind. "All will be explained, but only when all is done."

Raph growled in frustration, more at the straps than the superficial answer. Demetri fiddled with his collar, standing even straighter than he had before.

"Jet will be in soon," Demetri stated, curt, though his eyes seemed to soften just a little bit. As soon as Raph noticed this, they hardened once more. "He is a skilled healer whose services you are in no position to decline, so I suggest you cooperate."

Demetri exited the room, leaving Raphael to curse himself for being so foolish as to get drunk outside the lair. He cursed Demetri, Flame, Jet, and Leonardo, too, for good measure.

Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself for a long wait.

Well, crap. Raph's gone and got himself in a bind, now. Quite literally.

I know many people don't like OC characters. I normally don't read them either, unless they're really, REALLY good. Let me know how this fic is stacking up, and if there is anything I could do to make it better!

Please R&R!

-DauntlessAdrenaline