The first thing Raphael felt was a headache — a throbbing dull ache that seemed to run all through his skull. He moaned softly, his eyes fluttering open as he wondered if he was getting sick.

As his eyes opened, he wondered if he was dreaming — a dream of something other than Mother, obviously. Instead of his small room with the white walls and sparse furnishings, he was in a room he didn't recognize — slightly mildewed, with peeling paint and curtains hung on the windows. He was lying on a bed, with his arms stretched over his head.

And Swords was sitting there beside him.

Automatically, Raphael tried to lurch upright towards the other turtle, but was yanked back as his arms refused to move. Grunting with pain, he looked up. A heavy chain had been wrapped around his lower arms several times, and had been wound through the bedframe too. They wouldn't budge.

"You—" he gasped.

"I'm glad to see you're awake," Swords said. "I was starting to worry that I'd hit you too hard."

"Let me go!" Raphael snarled.

"Not just yet," Swords replied, infuriatingly calm. "First—"

Raphael fell back against the mattress, his chest heaving as he looked around the room in growing desperation. There had to be some way out of this place — some way he could get back to the Foot Clan. But he could feel other chains pulling at his legs, pulling at his arms, weighing him down until he could barely move anything except his head. With a loud grunt, he strained against the chains binding his arms, feeling them pressing painfully into his flesh.

"Raphael, don't struggle like that. You're going to hurt yourself," Swords said, sounding concerned.

"Then let me go, dammit!"

"Raphael, listen to me — we're just trying to —"

"Shut up!"

Raphael continued struggling against the chains for what seemed like hours, but he knew was probably only minutes. The chains seemed to get tighter the more he struggled, pressing painfully on his bruised skin until he could barely feel his fingers. Still, he kept twisting and straining, praying that his aching muscles would eventually break through the chains.

Swords watched the whole thing, his eyes growing sadder as he watched the other turtle struggle. Finally Raphael gave up, collapsing limply on the bed, his breath rasping in his throat, sweat beading his skin, his brown eyes fixed on the ceiling above him.

"My name's Leonardo, Raphael," Swords said. "You can call me Leo."

Raphael stared at him balefully. "Why don't you just kill me?" he said.

"Because we don't want to kill you."

"Why not? I'm your enemy."

"No, you're not. You're our brother."

"You're not my brother," Raphael said heatedly. "Not in any way that matters. You don't know me — you don't know anything about me."

"That's true, I don't," Leo said, crossing his arms. "But I'd like to know, if you'd tell me."

Raphael just glared at him, his fingers clutching at the chains. Then he turned his face away from Leo, and stared bleakly at the curtains beside his bed.

"You're my brother, Raphael, whether you like it or not. I don't want you hurt, let alone dead. And even if you weren't my brother, I wouldn't kill you."

"Why not?"

"I don't kill."

That got Raphael's attention. His head turned sharply towards Leo, with an incredulous expression on his face. "Yes, you do. You have to."

"No, I don't."

"Being a ninja means killin'. No hesitation, no weakness, no mercy."

Leo's brow furrowed, and a strange, pained expression crossed his face. "Well, I must not be a very good ninja," he said at last. "Because I've been getting by very well without killing any of my enemies."

Raphael stared at the other turtle's face, baffled. He had the strange feeling that Leo wasn't lying — his eyes were steady and clear, not even a waver in his voice when he spoke. Yet the idea of being a ninja without killing was something that Raphael had never even thought about — Master Shredder had always praised him for his kills in the field.

Then again, Leo had defeated Karai and left her to live. He had thrown shuriken at Master Shredder and let him live as well. Raphael stared narrowly at the other turtle, searching his face for some answer to why he would do something like that. Letting his enemies live was idiotic — it meant they could come back for him later, stronger and more vicious than before. Letting that happen was weakness — and weakness, Master Shredder had drilled into him, was never to be tolerated. Only strength — the strength to eliminate all threats without mercy.

"Why?" he said at last.

"Because our father taught me that life is precious, including the lives of your enemies."

Raphael snorted, letting his head fall back against the mattress. "So you carry a pair of katana so you won't kill anybody? That makes a lotta sense."

Leo shrugged. "Like I said, I've been managing without killing anyone. I can fight with my swords without killing."

Raphael's headache felt like it was both fading and getting worse. Listening to Leo was throwing his mind into a whirl — he understood every word the other turtle said, but Leo might as well have been speaking another language for how much Raphael understood him.

It made no sense. Leo was a powerful fighter — he had defeated Raphael in single combat, and had led his brothers to drive back Master Shredder. But he wasn't willing to use his strength to its fullest. He held himself back. He was just going to accumulate more and more enemies, more and more danger, until one of them finally destroyed him — and his weakness would keep him from killing the enemy to save himself.

"And I know you can too," Leo said quietly.

"Can what?"

"Fight without killing." Leo shifted on the bed, looking down on Raphael's face. "Donnie got me some newspaper articles about all the criminals you've been beating up for months. You attacked them, sometimes pretty brutally — not that some didn't richly deserve it. A number ended up in the hospital with broken bones. But you never killed one, no matter what crime they were guilty of." He leaned down to the floor, and lifted up a gleaming sai, weighing it in his hand. "Even though with these, it would be easy to stab someone to death."

"That's — that's different," Raphael said hesitantly.

"How?"

"That wasn't… they were all small fry. I didn't need to kill 'em to stop 'em. Besides, that was just me doin' what I wanted, not about bein' a ninja."

"But I thought you said you didn't show any mercy."

Raphael stared at him with a hint of loathing, then turned away again, the chains clinking as he moved his shoulders. His breath was coming a little faster as he tried to brush aside the confusion that Leo's words had inspired in him — that same horrible unsteadiness that had enraged him so much during their first battle.

He wanted Leo to shut up, to stop saying things that chipped away at everything he knew and believed in. But he had the feeling that nothing would silence Leo, or anyone else with him. He was at their mercy, and he didn't see any immediate way out.

He gritted his teeth, and began to strain against his restraints again.