Anyone reading this?

They had Don. They had April. Now it was time to get the shell out of there.

Leo's heart was hammering against his ribs as Raph clambered in the rear door, coated in gray dust and clutching his shoulder as if it pained him. He was going to have to talk to Raph about what had just happened — as far as he could see, his brother had been heaving lumps of concrete onto piles of rubble, even as the ceiling was about to collapse over all their heads. Leo had no idea what Raph had been doing, but it couldn't have been that important.

The Battle Shell moved suddenly forward with a screech of tires and a roar of its powerful engine. Leo lurched into Raph, and had to drop into a crouch to avoid falling on Don. His paralyzed brother was lying flat on his shell on the hard metal floor — not a comfortable position for someone with a curved carapace. April had placed herself above him, her folded legs pillowing his head, and her small hands lightly resting on his shoulders.

Raph whispered something to Don, then collapsed back against the wall of the Battle Shell, his face rigid with rage. It was only then that Leo saw Don's expression — twisted slightly in pain, his breath coming unevenly. April was gently stroking her hand over his forehead, and he closed his eyes every time she did.

Swiftly he removed the first-aid kit from the wall, and crouched down beside his brother. Normally Don served as their doctor, having the most knowledge of anatomy and medicine. But on the occasions when he needed care, Leo tried to step in and do his best. He knew most of the basics about patching up battle wounds, but if they had hurt Don some other way — if they had tortured him —

"Don, I'm going to look you over," he said quietly, placing a hand on his brother's arm. Don flinched slightly at the sudden touch, but quieted as he saw that it was Leo. "Tell me if you're hurt somewhere — tell me what they did to you."

A strange, distant look came into Don's eyes, and his mouth moved slightly before he actually spoke. "Nothing… serious."

But the pain crossing his face said otherwise. Leo inched slightly closer, and began examining Don's neck and head, searching for any gashes or bruises, or even — God forbid — fractures. He felt his brother tremble slightly at the touch, and he tried to examine him more gently, moving down to his shoulders and arms and palpating his muscles and flesh. He could feel some scrapes there, as well as a few bruised spots that made Don hiss slightly in pain when he was touched. Apparently the paralytic didn't dull sensation.

But as he drew back, something caught Leo's eye. During the exam, Don's legs had parted slightly, allowing the skin of his inner thighs to be seen clearly. And on those thighs, Leo could see dark dried rivulets of… something. He moved closer to his brother's legs and groin, feeling his heart begin to race as he saw that the dried substance was blood.

Don's blood. Between his legs.

"Oh, Don," Leo whispered.

A horrifying suspicion had settled into his mind — one that sickened him beyond all belief. They couldn't have — surely even the Purple Dragons weren't that depraved — there had to be some other injury, some way to explain the blood on his legs other than that.

He laid gentle fingers on Don's legs, pulling them slightly further apart in search of a gash or some other obvious injury. Don quaked again and his breath began coming in deep gasps.

"It's okay, Don," Leo said soothingly, moving back to his brother's side. "It's just me. I have to see what happened, bro — I can't treat you if I don't know what was bleeding."

Don's frantic breathing calmed slightly as he looked up at Leo. His eyes were desperate, but gradually they closed tightly. "Okay," he said at last, gripping at April's hand tightly.

She looked at Leo with pleading eyes. "Be gentle," she said softly.

"As gentle as I can be," Leo promised.

He heard an intake of Don's breath as he gently parted his thighs again, although he had the horrible feeling that he already knew where the blood had come from. He could see now that more blood was caked on the skin where his legs met in the back, around his tail, stemming from the area around his cloaca. The cloaca itself looked as though it had been badly abused — it was swollen and had suffered a few small exterior tears that had bled profusely.

Leo prided himself on his steady hands, but he could feel them trembling against Don's leg and plastron as he saw the damage. He knew what it meant, and the thought that someone had done that to Don… it made his head spin and his stomach churn.

Rape was not something that Leonardo had thought much about — at least, not in relation to himself and his brothers. Splinter had given his sons a rather scattered lecture on sexuality a few years before, when it became obvious to him that they were reaching puberty, and had been asking questions about the women they saw on television and the computer. And though Splinter did not expect his sons to find that kind of love for themselves, he had explained that it must always be freely exchanged. Rape, he had explained to them, was an abominable act, never to be even considered.

Leo had never thought that one of them would be threatened with such a thing. They almost always went places in a group. They were stronger than almost all humans. They were armed and well-trained in combat. And of course, they were man-sized mutant Turtles — strange creatures that humans likely wouldn't try to rape.

But it had happened. Shell, it had happened.

As gently he could, he pushed Don's legs back together, hoping not to draw attention to what he had seen. His brother had gone through enough without being gawked at while he lay helpless in the Battle Shell. But Don winced and made a faint pained noise, and Leonardo withdrew his hands quickly, not wanting to hurt his brother further.

He felt nauseated. His eyes slowly moved up to his brother's face, and saw the discomfort still evident there. But there was something else there — something much worse. There was a haunted, numb pain in his eyes that went further than any physical ache, something broken and raw. And the longer Leo saw it, the deeper the sickness in the pit of his stomach became.

A memory flashed through his head — Don leaving the lair for April's apartment, a light in his eyes despite the seriousness of his mission. Leo had let him go alone — had expected that he would encounter nothing more challenging than an upset April. And then, his desperate call for help less than an hour later, telling them that the Purple Dragons were attacking… and then silence. Silence for almost two days. Now this.

The Battle Shell turned a corner suddenly, and Leo quickly placed a hand on Don's belly, to keep him from sliding. "We're almost home," he said quietly.

"I-I know," Don said shakily.

Leo tried to look encouraging, but he didn't know what to do — what he could do for his brother now. He would talk to Master Splinter about what the best thing to do was when they returned home, because he sure as shell didn't know what it was now.