Raphael was still shaking like a leaf when he lowered himself into his bed. Whatever the rat had done to almost render him unconscious was still weakening him, and the bone-rattling punch from Swords hadn't helped either. He rolled back onto his carapace, and let his aching head rest against his pillow.
The clean-up from the battle had been an arduous affair — the many Foot ninja there had been injured to some degree, and Raphael himself had been too dizzy to stand upright for a long while. What was more, the security of their facility had been violated.
When reinforcements came, Raphael had seen Karai — still a little wobbly from Swords' blow to the head — speaking to her grandfather in a hushed whisper. Master Shredder had stared at Raphael for a long time after that, his face inscrutable.
It had only occurred to Raphael once the battle was over that those mutant turtles must be them. The other three. The turtles who had been at StockGen with him, but who had been lost down a sewer grate. They must have been doused with the same mutagen and changed the way he had, rather than being eaten by rats as Master Shredder had surmised.
That knowledge had formed a hollow ache in Raphael's chest. He had wondered more than once about what his life would be like if those other three turtles had lived… but in those fantasies, they had been part of the Foot Clan like himself. There was no reason to clash with them, only to fight alongside each other. He had never thought about what would happen if they were fighting against the clan, because the idea seemed too… ridiculous.
But that didn't explain how they knew about him. How they knew his name, how they had even remembered he existed. How they had learned such astonishing ninja skills that even Master Shredder had been pushed back by all three of them.
And Raphael had barely recognized himself during that fight — he had never felt so unsure and unstable before. He had lost himself in the frenzy of battle plenty of times, but he had never felt himself spinning out of control like that before. All he had been able to do was cling desperately to the knowledge of what he was.
Raphael groaned and rolled over, burying his face in his pillow. His head ached with confusion and fatigue, and all he wanted to do now was confide his confusion in Mother. Maybe she would know what to do next, now that his entire world felt like it had been tipped on its side.
His eyelids drifted shut, and his body relaxed into slumber.
But instead of Mother's garden, he found himself standing in the middle of Master Shredder's throne room, with its gray walls and floor, and the Foot Clan banners hanging from the ceiling. He blinked in confusion, not sure why he wasn't in the garden with its soft grass and pleasing scents.
Mother was standing in the middle of the floor, her colorful kimono standing out amidst all the gray and black, her hands folded in front of her.
"Mother?" Raphael said slowly. "What's going on?"
She turned towards him then. Her dark eyes were sad, haunted, as they sometimes were when he told her about his missions. "This is not where you belong," she said softly.
"Mother, I don't—"
Then he felt a hand locking around his throat, as strong and immovable as an iron collar. Without thinking, he grasped at the hand, trying to make it loosen its grip, but his fingers drew back sharply as they touched steel blades. He looked up, straight into Master Shredder's burning eyes. Terror streaked through him, as he remembered the first time he had displeased his master. What had he done wrong?
With a single movement, the jonin forced Raphael to his knees, pushing his head back so that he was forced to lean back and look up. The turtle could feel himself trembling with the effort of staying upright.
"You have disappointed me, Raphael," Master Shredder said in a low voice.
"Master — I don't —"
"Silence!" The hand tightened around Raphael's throat, momentarily cutting off his air. "I have shown you favor in the past, and you repay me with treachery."
"Treachery — agh! — I never —" Raphael choked.
"Your loyalties changed the moment you saw those other turtles. You could no longer be trusted," Shredder continued, his steely eyes boring into Raphael's. Though his face was masked, rage radiated from him like light from the sun. "You betrayed me for their sake. Betrayed the Foot Clan."
"Master — please — I fought as hard as I could—"
"Lies from a traitor. Death will be the reward for your actions," Shredder said ominously, his shoulders shifting as he moved closer to the turtle's body.
Raphael's eyes widened as he felt a blinding slash of pain running through his body. As Shredder's fist released his throat, he looked down at his plastron. Shredder's gauntlet blades were buried deep in his abdomen, deep enough that he could feel them tearing through his organs, deep enough that the pain radiated through his body, unbearable, unstoppable…
With a single sharp gesture, Shredder yanked out the blades, carving through the turtle's plastron even further, and Raphael clutched desperately at the wound, feeling his blood bubbling between his fingers. He collapsed back on the floor, shaking uncontrollably, his breath coming in desperate choking gasps. Scarlet liquid streamed between his scutes, pooled under the edge of his shell, and trickled onto the floor. He was going to die. There was no second chance this time.
This was all wrong. He hadn't done anything to betray his master — he had fought the other turtles with all his strength. He had been loyal! As much as he had wanted to know about them, he had fought…
A delicate hand touched his face, and Raphael looked desperately up to Mother. Tears were streaming down her beautiful face as she knelt beside him, her gaze moving down to the bleeding gashes in his plastron.
"Mother," he whispered. "Please…"
"This is not where you belong," she repeated, pressing her hand to his bloodstained one. "Remember that, my poor lost child…"
"Mother… I… please help me… I didn't do it…"
And then Mother was gone. There was only the Shredder, looming over him in a swirl of crimson and black, his gauntlets still splashed with Raphael's blood. He felt panic welling up inside him as the jonin dropped to one knee at his side, his eyes blazing under the steel helmet. One strong hand gripped Raphael's shoulder, forcing him to lie still, despite the trembling that wracked his entire frame.
"You should be pleased, Raphael," the Shredder said ominously. "Your death will be faster and more painless than your betrayal warrants."
Raphael gasped as the points of those blades were pressed against his chest. His mind was whirling with confusion and horror, but one desperate thought was at the heart of it all — he needed Mother.
"Time to die, traitor," Shredder hissed, drawing his arm back.
"Wait, please—" Raphael cried out as the blades pierced him again, tearing through his tough plastron and ripping their way into his heart—
"Raphael!"
A hoarse scream tore itself from his throat, filling the tiny room, followed by rasping gasps as Raphael fought his way back to consciousness, slick with sweat and wild-eyed. The first thing he saw were two masked faces leaning over him, and it took him a moment to realize that they were his guards, come into his room instead of waiting patiently outside.
He sat upward sharply, clutching at his abdomen and expecting to feel blood pouring from his guts. But as he explored over his belly and chest, his shaking hands found nothing but smooth, intact plastron.
"You were screamin' like someone was killin' you," the friendlier of the two Foot ninja said.
"I—I—I had a bad dream," Raphael gasped. He could still feel phantom echoes of the dreamed pain rippling through his body, and the memory of Shredder's burning eyes clung to his mind.
He had never had a true nightmare before — most of his nightly dreams had been of being in Mother's garden, which always served to soothe his spirit. Before that, his dreams had been vague, babyish, unformed things, mostly half-remembered sensations and feelings that were forgotten as soon as he woke. He had never dreamed something so—so terrifying before. So realistic. And he had never dreamed of Mother in a real place.
"And you were sayin' somethin' about 'Mother,'" the ninja added.
"You know I ain't got a mother," Raphael said quickly. "You must've heard wrong."
He huddled forward, clutching at his stomach and groaning. How could a blow he had only dreamed be so painful?
"Do you think we should notify Master Shredder?" the other ninja said, looking at his partner.
"It was a bad dream," Raphael said sharply, looking up at the man balefully. "Haven't you had bad dreams? Just let me get back to sleep and I'll be fine."
The guards looked at each other, and the friendlier of the two nodded before rising and leaving the room, his partner following a moment later. The door closed, filling the room with darkness again, and Raphael lay down again, shivering under his covers.
He felt almost nauseated after his nightmare, and had to keep reassuring himself by touching his stomach and chest, just to make sure. He couldn't understand why he had had that dream — why Mother would let him experience something so terrifying. So… so likely. If he ever betrayed Master Shredder, he knew that would be the least of what he would experience.
And he felt a deep-rooted fear uncoiling in him as he remembered the Shredder's accusations of him betraying the Foot for those other turtles. Was that what Master Shredder thought he was going to do?
As he fell into an uneasy sleep, words echoed in his mind: "This is not where you belong…"