They were the longest minutes of Leo's life, waiting for his father to finish speaking to Raphael. He had sent them down into the shop below — presumably to keep them from eavesdropping — and vanished into Raphael's room. Leo strained to hear anything he could from the bottom of the stairs, but he heard nothing. Well, at least Raphael wasn't screaming at him. Perhaps that was a good sign.

"What do you think they're talkin' about?" Mikey asked, peeking over Leo's shoulder.

"I have no idea," Leo said truthfully.

He wished he did have an idea, but Splinter had not confided in them what he was planning to say. But he hoped that his father had dreamed up something brilliant to say to Raphael — something that would sway the black-masked Turtle's allegiance to the Foot Clan, and convince him that he belonged with his family. He had meditated long enough while his sons tried to talk to Raphael themselves.

Then again, Leo had the feeling that nothing would sway Raphael in such a short time. The roots of the Foot Clan were deeply buried in Raphael's spirit, and even though Leo had seem some flickers of doubt in his eyes, they still had a long way to go with him.

The problem was, he wasn't sure how long they had. It wasn't clear how much Shredder valued Raphael — he apparently did enough to send guards after him — but if he wanted Raphael back badly, he might send out large numbers of Foot ninja to find him. They had been rooted out of their home, and the apartment where they were staying was more exposed than they were used to. If the Foot went searching for Raphael, they might find him here — or worse, he might get loose and go back to them before his family could get through to him.

The door gently closed above him, breaking through his thoughts. His father came down the stairs, his eyes distant, and Leo felt his stomach lurch.

"Father?" he said quietly. "What — what happened?"

Splinter heaved a sigh, and turned to Mikey. "I believe we should leave Raphael to think for a short time. He has been confronted by a great many truths that will make him uncomfortable. Then, Michelangelo, perhaps you could keep him company."

"Will do!" Mikey said cheerily, apparently pleased by the idea of spending more time with his lost brother.

As Mikey scampered up the stairs, Splinter smiled fondly at his youngest son. "Michelangelo has a special talent for befriending others," he said quietly. "Raphael needs someone like him, I think."

"Did you manage to get through to Raphael, Father?" Donnie asked.

A troubled look crossed his father's face, only to be smoothed over as he turned to his other two sons. "Trying to directly convince Raphael would be fruitless," he said reflectively. "He would see it as an attack on everything that he has become, everything that he defends, and thus it would only harden his heart against us. It would make him see us as his enemies, no matter what family bonds tie us."

Leo felt his spirits sink. "So… you're saying it's hopeless?" he said quietly.

His father's clawed hand settled on his shoulder. "I did not say that, Leonardo, because it is not. Rather, we must convince Raphael using ninja tactics rather than the direct approach — we must be subtle and stealthy, and reveal weaknesses in our enemies. That was what I attempted to do with Raphael — discover how his life with the Foot has been, and learn what his life is lacking that we can provide."

"What did you discover, Father?" Leo asked.

Splinter's eyes grew sadder. "That he is desperately lonely, Leonardo. But he is so accustomed to it that he does not realize that the Foot Clan is slowly smothering him in his isolation. He has no friends, none who are close to him there. They see him as a freak, even though he has done everything for them."

Leo felt a spike of anger at the thought of Raphael being treated that way, so constantly that loneliness and ostracization were no longer even things for him to notice. No brother of his should be treated the way the Foot Clan was treating him. It just made him want to tear Raphael away from the Shredder, so that he could always be surrounded by those who would actually care about him rather than using him.

"What can we do now?" he said, crossing his arms.

Master Splinter sighed, looking back up the stairs. "We can let him go."

Raphael was relieved when the door clicked shut behind Hamato Yoshi — no, Splinter; it meant he could relax, let the turmoil inside him seep onto his face.

He had expected the mutant rat to try to convince him to join them — after all, wasn't that the whole reason they had caught him and dragged him here in chains? But Splinter had seemed less interested in convincing him, and more interested in… well, hearing about Raphael himself. And like an idiot, he had let Splinter draw out all sorts of confusing facts about himself and the Foot Clan, tearing away all the scabs that had formed over what he was most sensitive about.

What was Splinter trying to do? Did he really just want to know about Raphael, or was he trying to do something else? He wasn't sure what he could do aside from sit there in sullen silence, but at the same time…

Then he stiffened as the door creaked open.

"It's me again," Mikey called out, poking his head into the room. "Can I come in?"

"It's your place," Raphael said, keeping his voice as steady as he could. "You decide."

Mikey seemed to take that as an invitation. He bounced in and sat down beside Raphael, his face still open and friendly as before. But now he seemed a little more watchful — his eyes followed Raphael's face, as if trying to read his thoughts. "Hey, are you still hungry?" he said hopefully.

"No."

"Do you like comic books? I could read you a comic book. I'd show you the pictures, obviously."

"Never seen one."

"Never?" Mikey said disbelievingly. "The Foot Clan seriously doesn't have pizza or comic books? Dude, how about video games?"

Raphael sighed, and shook his head.

Mikey almost goggled at him. "But — what do you do when you're not out ninja-ing?" he said. "What do you do with your friends?"

Raphael had to bite down on his tongue to keep from saying again that he didn't need friends. He had the feeling Mikey wouldn't understand what it was like to not have them — he had nattered about making friends with humans, something that Raphael had thought wasn't even possible. Raph himself could feel the other Turtle's charisma — there was just something about Mikey that made it hard not to like him.

When he didn't answer, Mikey frowned and put a hand on Raphael's shoulder, as if sympathizing with him. "It's not good to be all by yourself, Raph. It'll mess you up. People are supposed to have friends and family."

Raphael almost contradicted him, just out of habit — he wanted to deny the idea that he needed them, that he should be with them. But he couldn't say Mikey was wrong. He had spent too much time mulling over his rejection by the Foot Clan to claim that he didn't care about being alone. And he was too upset by the loss of Mother to pretend that he didn't want someone who understood him there to support him. He did care. He did want it. He craved it — it had been the reason he had wanted the Foot Clan to accept him as one of its ninja.

He just didn't know how he could have it.