The smell was the first thing to capture him. The tangible scent of gasoline made anxiety rise in his gut, even though he couldn't find a reason for it. The longer the turtle was immersed in the smell, he recognized that it was changing , taking on a sulfurous aspect that made it hard to breathe.

The urge to run existed, but his feet may as well have been nailed to the ground. A strange lack of energy consumed his limbs, making it impossible to shift from his position. He was standing in an alleyway that appeared to be shrinking before his eyes. The closeness of the opposite walls gave him the feeling having less oxygen, in addition to the air that was darkening. The murky clouds entangled him, forcing him to cough and gag on their putrid scent.

Persistence succeeded in allowing him to bend his knees, freeing legs which felt frozen stiff. The movement did the turtle little good. He collapsed to the ground and his hands and knees stung as though he'd fallen upon razor blades. The turtle refused to look down, half afraid of the blood he might see.

Raphael searched for cleaner air beneath the hovering mass, but the fog was spreading too quickly. The alley was such a small area. He could get out if he tried; he was absolutely sure of it. Crawling a couple of feet left him heaving with exertion and lying flat on his plastron. He couldn't understand why he was so exhausted or why adrenaline wasn't kicking in. I'll be darned if I'm gonna lie here and suffocate.

The turtle slowly worked his way up on his elbows, creeping one pace at a time. The intensity of the growing clouds made him want to go faster, but his body wouldn't obey the command. When brightness dazzled his eyes in the darkness, he got excited for a moment, hopeful that he was near the end of the hateful smoke. It took a moment for the orange glow to register in his mind, and make him feel even sicker to his stomach. Fire. Fire! I have to move!

Raphael looked over his shoulder, assuming he would have to go back the short distance he'd already managed to cover. To his dismay, he saw flames flickering in that direction too, cutting off any chance of getting away. Trapped! I'm surrounded!

The turtle felt around through the smoke desperately, hesitating when his hand found something solid. Is that a wall? Maybe there's a door around here…another way out? He leaned against the rough surface he'd identified as brick, relying on its support as he climbed shakily to his feet. Raphael took one deliberate step at a time, fully aware of the heat bearing down harder on his skin. Have to get out, have to—

The turtle stumbled, almost falling as panic made him go faster than he could handle. He accidentally sucked in the acrid smoke and choked severely. His lungs were on fire. It felt like flames were already consuming him. Raphael discovered that he was lying on the ground again, and the glare of the fire was nearing. Not time to sleep.

He raised his head off the pavement, and a gasp caught in his throat when he saw something he hadn't expected. Some of the darkness had taken shape, and he could just see the outline of a figure crouching over him. Raphael tried to roll out of the way, but a foot crashing on top of his shell, pinning him. It felt like a five-hundred pound boulder, and no amount of determination could move it. Long fingernails grasped his wrists, and the contact burned his hands.

Raphael groaned in pain, writhing to escape the faceless stranger. His skin flickered with small flames, and a scream erupted from his throat as he watched the fire spread. The figure hurled him onto his shell, and the turtle's eyes widened as the shadowy figure exploded in a fireball of fury that threatened to incinerate him next.

Raphael jolted with sudden violence, fighting to catch his breath. The intensity of his scream left his already raw throat in searing pain, which in turn left him in short supply of the oxygen he craved.

"It's okay, Raph."

The voice startled him further, and made the turtle jerk his head around far too quickly.

"Easy," the dark-haired doctor chided. "Do you need the Oxi for a bit?"

Raphael didn't feel capable of words yet, so he simply nodded.

"All right – just relax." Marcus helped tilt his head slightly and adjusted the mask over his face. "You're in a safe place. The air is coming. Breathe in as deeply as you can."

It took a couple of minutes for his heart to stop racing and his lungs to accept a regular pattern. Raphael gazed up into his friend's dark eyes as he searched for meaning behind the troubling dream. It didn't go that far…he remembered. There weren't any real flames. Strange to think I can hardly recall what happened that night. Someone wanted to kill me…tried to kill me. And I was alone, all alone. How did I get back here to begin with?

His conscious mind remembered seeing Donny, his Sensei, and the docs a few times, but the urge to ask what had happened hadn't existed before now. Been too busy freezing and then burning my shell off. That and hacking up everything I ever ate. Raphael grimaced distastefully at the memory of how badly throwing up had hurt.

At least his head wasn't pounding as hard now, but he still felt unbearably warm under the thin blanket that covered his plastron.

"You feeling any better?" Marcus asked.

"No," he rasped. "Yeah. Maybe."

The man chuckled. "I'd understand if you were confused."

"It's hot."

"I'll grab a couple fresh compresses."

"Marc, wait." He struggled for volume. "What…happened?"

"You were dreaming."

"No. Before."

"Before you were dreaming?"

The turtle closed his eyes briefly in exasperation. "How did I get here? Who found me?"

"Oh. I figured that question would come up eventually." Marcus grabbed a chair and wheeled it over to him. "Do you remember the first night you got sick? You came to see me."

Raphael shut his eyes once more as a vision of being close to passing out on his motorcycle flashed before his mind. "Yeah. I think so."

"You didn't want me to take you home, but I was worried about you. When you left, I followed you from a distance."

"You…followed me?" A cough seized his chest, leaving him breathless for a couple of seconds.

"You should be resting. This really could wait."

"Tell it," he commanded weakly.

Marcus rubbed the back of his head self-consciously. "I didn't see everything. You got sidetracked by some bad men. They were trying to set a building on fire."

Raphael's brow creased. Gasoline. There was a lot of it. There were only a couple of guys…one was big.

"I think you got overpowered by them, because you were sick," Marcus finished hastily. "I'm sure they wouldn't have beaten you otherwise. They were going to hurt you."

"You called my brothers?" His voice was softer, but he was determined to be heard.

"I did, but they were a little too far away. I sort of took matters into my own hands."

"Y…ya did what?"

"I didn't do much, except cram my Avalanche into the alley. It was enough to scare the cowards off."

The turtle instantly raised his head a couple of inches. "You put y'self in danger?"

"I didn't have a choice," the man said stoically. "Don't you dare try to lecture me. You hardly have a voice as it is."

"You sh-shouldn't have done that," he forced the words out.

"I had to," Marc reinforced. "And if you make me, I'll do it again."

"No, you won't."

"You'll have a pretty hard time stopping me if you're the one in trouble."

"Marc…"

"Do you even remember what they tried to do with you?"

The turtle swallowed, hesitant to talk about the few things he did remember. "It's like...fragments, and I'm not sure what's real. But what if they'd killed you, Marc?"

"They didn't," the man said dismissively. "You might try not putting yourself at unnecessary risk. For instance, when you're so sick that you can barely ride your bike, you could let me drive you home without being a stubborn pain in my butt."

Raphael cracked a small smile. "But that's what I do best."

"True, but the rest of us would like to make sure you get to keep doing it."

He broke eye contact with Marcus sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

The doctor exhaled and squeezed his arm. "We like having you around, that's all I'm saying. Are you comfortable with the Oxi, or are you ready for it to come off? It wouldn't hurt you to try drinking some more. It'd be nice to get you off the IV before Halloween."

"Ha," Raph said humorlessly. "Can we try that in a little while? I kind of like the mask where it is."

Marcus gave him a probing look. "Yeah. You can keep it. Hang on for a minute."

The man disappeared from the turtle's line of vision, and was carrying newly soaked rags when he returned.

"Lay your head back down and don't try moving much," Marc told him.

Raphael sighed as the herbal fragrance of the fresh compress washed over him. "Smells better than gasoline," he murmured.

Marcus nodded sympathetically. "That smell will go away, eventually."

"Am I still flammable?"

He laughed. "No, but I'll resist the urge to light up around you, just in case."

"I'm not sure if that's really funny."

"You're alive, and you're going to kick this flu. Giving you a hard time doesn't feel too premature."

"Gee, thanks, Marc."

"Anytime, Raph."