A/N: Hey everyone. I'm glad that everyone is enjoying the sequel already. I really appreciate those of you who've taken the time to review. For those of you who I can't reply to your reviews personally I'll do it in my a/n so I don't leave you out. I like to reply back to those who leave reviews because I really do appreciate the time you guys take to leave them.

This chapter is a bit longer, and this is where the warning I gave in the first chapter comes into play. Things get kind of rough for the guys here, nothing too graphic, but once again you've been warned.

If you see a mistake I've failed to catch please let me know so I can fix it. Thank you again for reading. I'll update again Thursday or Friday.

Jade4563: I'm so glad your excited about this story. I am excited about it as well, it was a good story for me. I hope you continue to enjoy it. As for David Cook's Permanent...I feel the same way. It is such an emotional song but it was perfect for what I wanted. Thank you for your review.

Margui: I'm so glad you enjoyed the first chapter for this story. You'll find out what is up with Leo in this chapter. He is a little bit angry, but it is because he seems himself as being weak when something happens he can't control...like tripping on Mikey's skateboard. He isn't as angry as he was in Alone in the Darkness, because he has been living with his disability for so long he has learned to accept it. It is only at times where he feels like the others take pity on him that he gets upset. But don't worry he doesn't stay angry for long. Thank you for your review.

Chapter 2

Leonardo grunted as his shell hit the mats for the fourth time in the last half hour. His katanas had flown out of his hands and he couldn't remember hearing where they'd landed. He hurt all over and he couldn't stop shaking. His head was pounding like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it and it was making it hard for him to concentrate.

He ground his teeth. Master Splinter had always told them that they could never allow anything to distract them, even pain must be used to power your muscles and reflexes, giving you an edge and taking your enemy off guard. But this - this was different.

Leonardo's body felt heavy and he could barely find the strength to lift his own arms, let alone get back onto his feet. His legs were made of jelly at the moment and didn't want to support his weight. But still he forced himself to try, he could feel Raphael's worried gaze on him as he struggled to get his legs under him again.

On the other side of the dojo the sounds of Donatello and Michelangelo's sparing match had paused as well. Leonardo berated himself for being so weak and letting Raphael get the better of him. He'd have to do better than that in the future and he knew it! Just because he was blind he couldn't let his disability slow him down, his brothers needed him to be stronger than that. If they were attacked by the foot ninja or the purple dragons Leonardo knew that they wouldn't be so willing to give him a breather when he failed to meet his old stamina and skills. They wouldn't give him a chance to catch his breath because he was out of shape they'd kill him, or they'd injure him so severely that he wouldn't be able to stop them when they went after his brothers. Leonardo couldn't allow that to happen. He'd have to push himself harder, try harder, train harder. He couldn't fail his brothers that way.

"I think that is sufficient for today my sons," Splinter's grave tone rang through the dojo.

Leonardo felt heat rising in his face, he knew that the only reason they were stopping was because he was still on the floor. The trouble was he couldn't seem to find the energy to stand up on his own.

"Ya ok, Leo?" Raphael asked his hand touching Leonardo's arm, then gripping Leonardo's wrist and hauling his brother to his feet.

"'M fine," Leonardo grumbled as he shook his head to clear it. He still felt a little off but he couldn't put his finger on why he felt off. He had felt fine last night. What would have come over him so quickly?

"Maybe you should take it easy today, Leo," Donatello suggested.

Leonardo scowled in his direction, hating the tone of underlying concern. "I said I'm fine, Donny!"

"Here, bro got these for ya," Michelangelo said pressing the katanas into Leonardo's hands. Leonardo nodded his head once in gratitude and slid the blades back into the sheathes on his shell. Then without another word he turned and strode out of the dojo intent on getting a cup of tea. Tea would clear his head and make him forget, even if only temporarily, the pity he could still hear in his brothers' voices when they talked to him.

"How hard did you hit him, Raph?" Donatello demanded as soon as he was sure that Leonardo was really gone.

Raphael scowled at the purple-banded turtle. "Not hard enough ta knock da wind outta him like it did."

"I thought not," Donatello said rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"Ya think he's lyin about how he s feelin'?"

"Maybe," Donatello still seemed lost in thought. "If you didn't hit him very hard and it still knocked the wind out of him he might be worse off than he's saying."

"What are we gonna do 'bout it?"

"Not sure what we can do, Raph. If Leo doesn t want our help he isn't going to let us help him without a fight. You know how he is."

"Ya I know."

"Guys!" Michelangelo came running back into the dojo his face pale and his eyes wide with horror. "Come quick! It's Leo!"

In a move too quick for Raphael to catch Donatello was gone, he followed after him quickly with Michelangelo right behind him. He skidded to a stop next to the purple-banded turtle and looked down at his older brother in horror.

Leonardo was lying on the floor just outside the kitchen, his head turned to the side his eyes closed, his breathing somewhat labored. Raphael dropped to his knees next to his brother and touched the hot skin on his brother's face.

"Donny, he's burning up!" Raphael was alarmed at the heat he felt.

"He's definitely sick though I won't know with what until I do some further tests on him," Donatello grumbled under his breath. "Help me get him to the infirmary, Raph. I can do more for him there."

Raphael nodded and slid his hands quickly under Leonardo's head and knees, lifting him in a bridal carry. He just shook his head when Michelangelo opened his mouth and followed Donatello quickly into the infirmary.

Donatello was already running around the infirmary gathering up the supplies he thought he'd need. Michelangelo trailed after Raphael, hovering very close to Raphael's shell and bouncing up frequently to look over his brother's shoulder to check on Leonardo.

Raphael's patience was thin and he was two seconds away from smacking Michelangelo upside the head. He knew that Michelangelo was just worried but his anxious bobbing wasn't helping anyone.

Fortunately for Michelangelo Donatello needed all of their help. As soon as Michelangelo followed Raphael into the infirmary Donatello's head snapped up from the countless items he had been gathering.

"Mikey, go wet some towels in cool water we have to get Leo's temperature down."

Michelangelo seemed pleased to have something useful to do so he disappeared again without arguing. Raphael lowered Leonardo onto the infirmary cot and stepped back, allowing Donatello to have full access to their sick brother.

Donatello worked in silence for several long minutes, checking Leonardo's vital signs, any hidden injuries indicating an infection, and finally Leonardo's temperature. As he worked his frown deepened, and the ridges over his eyes came together. Neither of them were good signs.

"Here, Donny," Michelangelo came running back into the infirmary with his arms loaded with damp towels.

"Put them on his arms and legs," Donatello ordered as he grabbed the top towel and placed it over Leonardo's forehead. Leonardo's head twisted away from the cool fabric and he flinched as each towel came into contact with his skin as Michelangelo and Raphael placed them where Donatello indicated.

"He's not as out of it as I thought," Donatello muttered as he sponged Leonardo's sweaty skin.

"Whats dat mean?" Raphael demanded of his brother. Donatello didn't answer but continued to sponge Leonardo gently. He stared down at his unconscious brother, his eyes narrowing somewhat.

"It just means that whatever this is it isn't too serious, Raph. Leo isn't conscious but he isn't so far out of it that he isn't reacting to physical stimuli either." Donatello explained patiently. "He can still feel what's happening to his body, even though mentally he might not be fully aware of it. If he didn't react at all when we put the compresses on I'd be more worried. I think this is probably just a light case of flu or a bad cold combined with a bad night's sleep. You know Leo can be stubborn, he didn't say anything during practice because he felt like the symptoms would pass on their own. It would explain why his reflexes weren't as sharp as they usually are and why you were able to knock him down so easily. If he was feeling run down it would also explain why it took him so long to get back to his feet."

"But he's going to be ok, right?" Michelangelo asked anxiously his wide blue eyes fastened on Leonardo's pale face.

"He'll be fine, Mikey," Donatello assured his younger brother with a gentle smile. "He just needs some rest. In a couple days he'll be back to his old self. Don't worry."

Michelangelo seemed satisfied with Donatello's answer though his expression still held some skepticism as he watched Leonardo's plastron rise and fall with his steady breathing.

"Leo never gets sick though, Donny," Raphael protested as he glared at the purple-banded turtle. He folded his arms across his plastron daring the younger turtle to argue with him.

Donatello sighed as he met Raphael's challenging stare. He didn t want to discuss this in front of Michelangelo, he didn't want to worry his younger brother any more than he already was.

"Hey, Mikey watch Leo for a minute will you? Raph and I need to go get some extra blankets to keep him warm."

Michelangelo blinked and looked up at Donatello his face blank as if his thoughts had been somewhere else. But he quickly cleared his expression and nodded grimly, moving up to the bed and grasping one of Leonardo's hands in his own.

Raphael glared at Donatello, knowing something was up. If Donatello wanted more blankets for Leonardo he could have pulled them from his storage cupboard, Raphael knew that he kept extra blankets in there for just such an occasion as this. But he followed his brother out of the infirmary and away from Michelangelo's earshot.

After he was sure that Michelangelo wouldn't be able to hear him Donatello turned back to his brother, Raphael was waiting his expression hard, his eyes narrowed to slits.

"It's true, Raph, Leo normally doesn t get sick. None of us get sick very often. With my experimentations with our DNA I figure it has something to do with the mutation but it doesn't mean we are invincible!"

"You still have a theory on why Leo is sick though don't you?" Raphael growled quietly.

Donatello's shoulders slumped and his eyes fell to the floor, answering Raphael's question for him.

"I think it had to do with the night of Leo's accident," Donatello admitted quietly.

Raphael growled at the word accident. It had been no accident that had taken Leonardo's vision from him. It had been done on purpose. Karai had hired some assassins to come after them, Leonardo had stopped them from killing Raphael but had had his vision taken from him in the process. Later they learned that Karai had never intended for the assassins to kill Raphael although she wouldn't have complained if they had succeeded either. But she had meant for the assassins to punish Leonardo by taking something from him that would make him feel useless, helpless, would take away his independence and therefore make him more vulnerable when she attacked. Unfortunately for her the plan backfired. When Leonardo learned that Karai had been responsible for his stolen eyesight he had insisted that they go and pay her a visit. Raphael would have thought that having his vision stolen from him would finally push Leonardo over the edge and make him kill Karai, he wouldn't have stopped him. But once again Leonardo stayed in control told Karai she only had one last chance to redeem herself, to stay away from their family and had let her live.

Leonardo would have left it at that but Raphael hadn t been satisfied with just letting her off the hook that easily. So when Leonardo had turned away and Karai had let her guard down slightly Raphael had struck, leaving her with a reminder, a token of their promise if they ever saw her again she would die. Raphael had wanted to take away what she had taken away from Leonardo, but he knew that it wasn't his place. It was Leonardo's and Raphael had respected that. Still the three deeps scars on her face wouldn t let her forget about Leonardo's last warning any time soon or what she had done to him either.

"It wasn't an accident," Raphael growled his anger bubbling just under the surface. "Karai sent dem goons on purpose!"

"I know, Raph," Donatello said patiently trying not to press his agitated brother any further than he was. "But I was just saying that I think something compromised Leonardo's immune system after that happened. He's been more susceptible to getting sick, he gets run down more easily, his stamina still isn't up to what it was before the acci... that night. I think that even though he's been working out on a regular basis and it has been two years Leo's body is still compromised from what happened."

"Is he always gonna be like dis?" Raphael demanded.

Donatello looked into his brother's eyes, seeing the fear and anger there. He shook his head.

"I honestly don't know, Raph. Let's just be glad that Leo hasn't had anything worse than that case of the 24 hour stomach flu he had last year. Like I said it just seems like a bad cold to me mixed with the fact that he probably didn't sleep very well. He's been looking off color for a few days now."

Raphael nodded, he'd noticed that Leonardo had seemed a little more fatigued the last few days as well. "So what are we gonna...?" Raphael's words were cut off as his shell cell rang in his belt. Scowling Raphael retrieved the offending object and held it up to his ear. "Dis better be good, Casey!"

Donatello went back to the infirmary, letting Raphael talk to one of their best friends in privacy.

Michelangelo was still sitting where Donatello and Raphael had left him, his expression void of its usual joyous expression. Although if Donatello were going to be honest with himself, he'd seen less and less of Michelangelo's mischievous acts and happy antics since Leonardo's sight had been taken. After Leonardo had lost his sight Michelangelo had sobered up quite a bit. Donatello often wished for the old Michelangelo.

As annoying as Michelangelo had been with his constant pranks and inappropriate wise cracks and always mimicking movie and TV characters Donatello found this more sober version of his brother depressing.

Whenever Leonardo was in a good mood Michelangelo would sometimes pull some of his old tricks, pull a few pranks on Raphael, shoot off lines from recent movies whenever they came to mind, and play video games long into the night. But when Leonardo was having off days Michelangelo's mood seemed to darken into a character trait that Donatello remembered Leonardo having after their final confrontation with the Shredder. Michelangelo would become distant and quiet, avoiding the others all together. Donatello had once tried to talk to Michelangelo about it but Michelangelo had given him a lot of irrelevant answers. Finally Donatello had stopped trying to figure it out. Today seemed to be one of those days that sobered Michelangelo up, his face was drawn, his eyes lacked the sparkle they held whenever Michelangelo was in a good mood.

"He's gonna be ok, Mikey," Donatello promised him, placing a hand on his brother s shoulder, feeling Michelangelo tense beneath his hold. "He's just exhausted."

"He really scared me, Donny," Michelangelo whispered his voice cracking a little. Donatello saw a tear escape Michelangelo s wide blue eye and get soaked up into the material of his mask. "When I saw him on the floor and after Raph kept knocking him down during practice I thought he was..."

Donatello tightened his hold on his brother's shoulder, squeezing gently. Without warning Michelangelo turned and buried his face into Donatello's plastron, his body shaking with silent sobs. Donatello pulled his younger brother closer, allowing him to release his emotions while he comforted him.

"Shh... Mikey," Donatello soothed his brother. "Leo's ok. I promise he'll be ok."

Donatello waited while Michelangelo cried himself, all the while talking in a soothing soft voice and rubbing the back of Michelangelo's shell. After a while Michelangelo quieted and his breathing smoothed out from the choked strangled sobs to the quiet deep rhythmic sound of sleep. Donatello didn't move, not wanting to wake him.

"Donny?"

Donatello turned to see Raphael standing in the doorway, his eyes on Michelangelo.

"He's just exhausted, Raph." Donatello assured him. "What did Casey want? You heading out?"

Raphael shook his head, frowning as his eyes tracked from Leonardo to Michelangelo. "No, said he saw some purple dragons down at the train tracks. He thinks they might be pullin' a job down there. Thought we might be able ta stop 'em. He'd do it himself but April needs 'im home. Said it was important."

Donatello looked over Michelangelo to where Leonardo was still sleeping on the cot before looking at Raphael again.

"Did he say how many were there?"

"About twenty or so - nothin' we can't handle."

"Think we should wait for Leo?"

Raphael shook his head. "Leo ain't up for somethin' like dis, not when he's still feelin' so sick. If we're gonna do dis we're gonna have ta do it without fearless dis time."

"Should we tell Master Splinter then? Have him stay with Leo?"

"Master Splinter's sleepin', we won't be gone long enough for him ta know we left. The purple dragons are pushovers - we'll be back before midnight."

Donatello frowned but didn't argue, instead he turned his attention to his younger brother, still sleeping on his plastron. "Mikey, wake up."

Michelangelo groaned but opened his eyes reluctantly. "W's the m'tt'r?"

"Come on, Mikey," Donatello coaxed as he eased his brother's weight off his plastron. "Casey said there are some purple dragons are trying to pull a job at the tracks. Raph told him we'd check it out."

Michelangelo groaned again but didn't argue as he blinked himself more aware. He looked to the bed where Leo was still sound asleep. He looked back at his brother's his eyes widening in surprise. "Are we gonna wake, Leo?"

"No," Raphael answered at once ignoring Donatello's exasperated look. "He isn't feelin' good, Mikey. It'd be best if he just stayed here. We'll be back before he wakes up, he'll never know we left."

Michelangelo, like Donatello, didn't seem too happy about this but he went along with it anyway. He knew that Raphael had a point, Leonardo was sick and needed his rest and they had taken on purple dragons without him before. Besides this way they wouldn't have to be keeping a close eye on the oldest turtle while they engaged the dragons. Even though Leonardo was more than capable of protecting himself his brothers couldn't help but keep an eye on him when they engaged an enemy, worried that Leonardo's blindness would let the enemy get the better of him.

"Come on!" Raphael snapped impatiently. He was already heading for the elevator doors, Michelangelo and Donatello followed him without looking back once.

"Raph, next time Casey calls do me a favor make sure he has his facts straight!" Donatello shouted as he hit a purple dragon with his bo, sending his opponent flying across the pavement where he landed on his stomach and didn't get up again.

Raphael's growl was his only answer.

The truth was that the situation had been more severe than any of the turtles had expected, there hadn't just been twenty purple dragons - but most of purple dragon gang! There were at least fifty of them, and all of them were doing their best to overpower the turtles.

Donatello had already taken a few good hits and the bruises were already starting to blossom on his skin. As he took out another purple dragon he could see Michelangelo several feet away from him, his nunchakus spinning so fast they were a blur. Michelangelo's face was set and grim, he too had taken several hits already, but Michelangelo, unlike Donatello, was losing a lot of blood. One of the purple dragons had snuck up from behind when Michelangelo had been facing three head on. Before Raphael or Donatello could warn him the knife had sliced through Michelangelo's dark skin and blood had begun to flow with sickening speed.

Raphael was clear on the other side of the alley, his fists swinging in wide arcs, his low growls and angry roars echoing back to his brothers to let them know he was still fighting strong. Like Mikey he too had lost quite a bit of blood, but wasn't letting it slow him down. Donatello was sure there was enough adrenaline pumping through their veins that his brothers wouldn't feel the aftermath of their wounds until the battle was over.

One of the purple dragons charged at Donatello brandishing a metal pipe, another charged at him from the opposite side brandishing a heavy chain. Donatello took the one carrying the pipe down with a front snap kick and just barely managed to stop the chain from hitting him in the facing with an upper rising block. He winced as the chain tore at his skin. With a sharp tug he pulled the gang member holding the other end of the chain and took him out with a sharp kick to his stomach, the kid doubled over retching.

Donatello panted and let the now loose chain fall free from his arm. He rubbed at the area where it had hit gingerly, that was definitely going to leave a mark. He knew that the smartest thing for them to do would be to get out of here while they were all still on their feet.

He turned towards his red-banded brother and was horrified at what he saw.

Raphael had five purple dragons advancing on him, his body was crouched in a defensive position, his sais held tightly in his hands. But he didn't see the dark shadow creeping up from behind.

"Raph!" Donatello jumped forward but found his movement suddenly stopped as something grabbed the lip of his shell and threw him against the distant brick wall. Groaning a little Donatello looked up and felt his stomach plummet. Hun was grinning at him, his long blond ponytail slung over one of his beefy shoulders, his trademark grin mocking Donatello's weakness.

Donatello shook his head and got shakily to his feet. He couldn't hear Michelangelo anymore and he wasn't sure if Raphael had seen the sneak attack from the sixth purple dragon in time or not. He couldn't afford to look to find out. He stared with round eyes as Hun advanced on him.

"Looks like you freaks picked the wrong place at the wrong time," Hun taunted as he cracked his knuckles. He chuckled a little as if he found what he said to be very funny.

Donatello ground his jaw and swung his bo around, leaping into the air at the same moment. He felt Hun's beefy hand grab the end of his bo, felt the weightless of flying through the air and then nothing.

Raphael felt so heavy, he was sure that he must have gained an extra hundred pounds in the last few minutes because even his eyelids were too heavy to lift. What in the world had happened? Had he gone drinking with Casey again? He felt light-headed and disoriented like he did when he'd had a few beers too many. But he had never felt this cold. He shivered violently and sucked in a breath of air.

It felt like inhaling needles. He coughed and gagged, his eyes flying open in shock. He looked around him in confusion. He wasn't at Casey's and he wasn't at the lair. He was in some trash strewn alley, laying in a bank of snow, and he was all alone.

He leaned his head back again, letting his eyes close once again. It felt so good to close them. He couldn't remember why he was in this alley but at the moment he didn't really care. It was quiet here, peaceful, he could just stay here and be comfortable for a very long time.

It was the smell that made his eyes open again, this time in alarm. It wasn't the smell of the overflowing dumpsters, of the oil, coal dust, or smoke. But the smell of rust and salt. He'd recognize those two scents anywhere. Blood. And a lot of it.

He tried to sit up but a sharp pain in his side made him cry out in surprise and he froze, blinking down at himself. What he saw made his stomach churn. The snow bank he was lying in was stained a dark red, his side was gory with it, and from the looks of it he was still losing more. Raphael felt the wound with his fingers and was horrified to discover that the wound had an inside to it. He wasn't positive but he was sure he could feel a rib, and something that felt a little rubbery which he was sure he didn't want to know what it was. He closed his eyes again as the world started to spin around him and his stomach reacted violently. He really didn't want to be sick here, almost positive that that would do nothing but aggravate the problem.

After a few minutes his stomach settled a bit and he wearily opened his eyes again. He remembered now, Casey had called about the dragons pulling a job down at the tracks, but it had been a lot bigger than Casey had told them. They'd been outnumbered and out weaponed. Donatello and Michelangelo had held their own pretty well, but after a while Raphael could have sworn he'd seen Michelangelo go down from a blow directly to the back of his head. He'd fought to get to him, taking down dragon after dragon, not caring how much blood he spilt. He wasn't concerned with that right now, Michelangelo had been hurt and Raphael had been desperate to get to him.

He'd growled as five purple dragons had headed towards him at once, all of them brandishing their weapons. He'd heard Donatello scream at him, had turned for a split second to look at their brother and then his world had gone white in a flash of the sharpest pain he'd ever felt in his life.

Donatello and Michelangelo! Raphael's eyes searched desperately for any sign of his brothers, but he was still alone. Reaching for his belt, and hopefully his shell cell Raphael s' blood stained fingers found the small familiar shape and he tugged it out with a sob of relief, if he could just get a hold of Splinter then maybe they'd be able to find him before he bled out.

As he opened the casing his heart sunk in his chest, the phone had cracked, nearly in half - the screen was dark. He must have landed on it when he fell. His only choice was to get up and try to get home on his own.

Removing his mask and wadding it up so he could hold it to the bleeding wound Raphael pushed himself forward so he was sitting up right. A wave of dizziness made him fall right back on his shell again. He cursed as the move rattled through him, he could feel a fresh wave of warmth oozing through the mask he was holding desperately to his side.

He panted for several minutes, his eyes wide as he watched the dark clouds overhead roll in slowly. After a few minutes fresh snow began to fall, the temperature dropped lower, and Raphael shivered violently.

"I can't stay here," Raphael whispered to himself, trying to force himself up again. His body shook desperately beneath him, he only made it to a half sit before he dropped down again.

He sucked in a desperate breath and forced himself to suppress the tears he felt like releasing. Michelangelo and Donatello were gone. Leonardo and Splinter would have no way of knowing where they were or that they had even left and Raphael's phone was broken. Worse than that Raphael's bleeding wound wasn't slowing and he was too weak to get home on his own.

The realization hit him like a punch to the gut forcing the air out of his lungs. He was going to die here, there would be no back up this time, no way of contacting his family. He was alone, more alone than he'd ever been in his life. He shivered and fought his heavy eyelids. He knew he should stay awake, but he couldn't remember why it was so important. A few snowflakes drifted down from the heavy clouds above him and landed on his face, but Raphael no longer cared. He didn't care that the temperature was dropping, that a heavy blizzard was on its way, or that the snow bank he was lying in was quickly turning a reddish pink. He was oblivious to all these things as his eyes shut and he slipped into unconsciousness.