Title: Validation
Summary: Never the perfect son or student or brother, Raphael does the unthinkable. Away from the lair and into an allegiance with Shredder, honor is replaced by his pronounced desire for validation.
Disclaimer: I have no ownership ties to the TMNT fandom or anything else I might reference. Credit to those who do.
SPECIAL THANKS TO! Bella13blue, my own personal Nemesis! (Because everybody needs one.) MY Nemesis has been a good friend; she's a great soundboard and has been kind enough to encourage and offer suggestions on my work for this fic.
Author's Notes: Thanks again, to my readers and reviewers!
Questions or comments, submit via review or PM. Thank you.
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CH8
Surprisingly, dinner went off without a hitch. There were scattered gaps of silence pilfered with the occasional exchange of words between Raph and Don. Leo stayed quiet, save for his well-exercised table manners. Mikey had tried to join Don and Raph's conversation more than once but was promptly ignored. Splinter watched, silent, observational as everyone dined on their choice of pizza -this time, the more traditional variety of peperoni and cheese- or Chinese takeout.
All things considered, dinner had been 'civil,' and the rat granted the four boys a night of freedom -or, at least a few hours to run around the city under the guise of night.
Geared up, weapons primed, the brothers had made their exit from the lair, through the sewers and up through a manhole onto the city streets. Lined up with their shells pressed against the wall, shadows cloaking them, they took in the familiar sights, sounds, and scents of the city around them.
Moving away from the wall and slipping from one veil of darkness to another, Leo gave the incentive. "Take to the roofs. We'll comb the city from above, then head for the docks. We'll finish up by hitting the darker alleys. And remember, Master Splinter said not to engage in battle unless it's absolutely necessary."
Scaling a fire escape in perfect stealth and harmony, they hit the rooftop one by one, falling in line to a rhythm as familiar a breathing.
"Alright. We stick together, work as a team. If we find ourselves in the position of needing to split up, I want you, Don, to go with Mikey. He's too easily distracted and I know you can help him maintain focus." Those were Leo's words, but what he meant, and what the other turtles actually heard was more along the lines of: 'You two stick together, and I'll take Raph. He's too unstable; we can't risk another psychotic episode.'
Raphael grunted in distaste but kept his mouth shut. He needed this run too much to chance more trouble. He needed the fresh air and the ability to pretend that he had some form of freedom. Even if he had to act under Leonardo's leadership, Raphael was determined to cling to the dignity and pride that he had.
Regardless, the run commenced. Feet padding in perfect tandem across each roof, bodies wholly springing into the air with leaps and bounds and flips. With stealth as their crutch towards integrity, they moved in fluid harmony, each adhering to the occasional order of instruction, critique, or encouragement given by the blue-banded ninja.
"Mikey, try not to show off so much; you're going to burn out before we're done. Don, stop living in your head and focus on what you're doing; you almost didn't make that last jump. And Raph... good- good job." Leo had been keeping a close eye on each of his brothers, knowing perfectly well how each of them operated without really needing a visual. He knew it might be too soon to go out after the recent plague of tension, but he'd convinced his father and sensei to allow it. Under the false advertising of a chance to patrol, tonight would be more of a training run. He needed his whole team to get along and function like a single-minded organism, not to be tearing into each other at every turn.
Leo had come to a conclusion and reasoned, if he could prove to Raphael that Don and Mikey were being watched equally, the stress would be alleviated. Likewise, he would make a personal effort to cut back on the criticism. As leader, it was imperative for him to pick his battles wisely.
"Mikey, slow down," Leo called, louder than he wanted, but the orange-banded turtle had sped ahead, too fast and too far for his liking. "Don, catch Mikey. Now."
Don blinked in surprise but did not refute. He angled his body to work with the wind resistance as he worked his arms and legs, muscles burning, to catch up with his youngest and fastest brother. It was no secret that Don was the slowest of them all, just barely slower than Raphael, but what Raph lacked in speed he gained in stamina, which was something Don himself had surprisingly little of. To catch Mikey was a nearly impossible feat to everyone except Leo. But, Don reasoned, Leo was dead set on keeping tabs on their hotheaded sibling.
With both Don and Mikey several rooftops away, Raph grabbed hold of Leo's arm and forced him to halt his advance. "What's yer problem, Leo?" He asked, voice carefully devoid of the pending build of emotion.
"What are you talking about, Raph? Mikey took off against my orders, and I sent Don to retrieve him. Don needs an exercise in speed and stamina anyways."
"That ain't what I'm gettin' at, Leo, and you know it. I needed to get out and get some fresh air, but you ain't taken yer eyes off me fer more than a few seconds. Like, you're afraid I'm gonna do somethin' stupid."
"Raph, do you think you might do something stupid?" His gaze steady, Leo's voice was a careful blend of calm and sympathy.
Raph shrugged and turned away from Leo, avoiding the way those eyes bore into him. "I dunno. Maybe. But I ain't tryin' ta fuck up."
Leo opened his mouth to protest the curse word, but he stopped, holding back the complaint in favor remaining silent, hoping to encourage his red-banded brother to continue talking.
And continue, he did. Throwing his arms out in a frustrated gesture, he spoke, eyes turning up to stare at the moon in an apprehensive trance. "I don't try ta mess up around ya. It just happens. Ya guys don't even realize it, but I do. I'm different. Always been different. Always gonna be different."
"Raph, everyone's different," Leo assured, glad for his brother's open honesty.
"Not like dis, Leo," Raph said, voice dropping an octave. "Ya ain't gotta deal with this stuff. It's in here," he tapped a finger to his temple. "And it's in here," he moved the same hand to tap at his plastron, where his heart lay beneath. "Ya got the stress of being the oldest, bein' leader. Don's got all his smarts and patience and shit. And Mikey's just... the baby, the idiot, the knucklehead, the-"
"Raph, what's on your mind? Without insulting us, tell me what-"
"See?! There ya go! Once again, you gotta be the one in control. Even when the problem is about me, it's gotta be you ta fix it! You're standin' there like an arrogant asshole, and yer tellin' me how to tell you what I'm feelin'!" With a cry of frustration, Raphael grabbed and tugged at his bandana tails before turning to face his eldest brother once more. "Don't do this ta me, bro. Don't try ta push me into this mould ya made fer me. I'm tellin' ya, I ain't gonna fit. If yer gonna be my leader, ya gotta deal with me just the way I am, because I ain't changin' and I ain't a damn puppet."
Their conversation, albeit one-sided, came to an abrupt halt as Donatello bounded over to them, panting profusely and doubling over with fatigue. "M-Mikey," he breathed.
Suddenly in full-leader mode, Leo stepped closer to Don; his talk with Raph forgotten, if not wholly abandoned. "What about Mikey? Talk to me, Don."
"M-M-Mikey's... over... near the... docks," the purple-banded turtle panted, struggling to take in more air. "F-Foot ninja... Lots. Got Mikey."
For a moment, Leo looked horrified, but he quickly forced the expression away and took on one of determination. His 'leader-look,' as he liked to think of it. "Alright. Raph and I will head over. Don, catch your breath and follow up."
"One p-problem, Leo" Don breathed, standing to full height and forcing air deeper into his lungs.
"What's that?" Leo asked, eyes shifting to look in the direction of the docks.
"Raph already took off," Don said, voice quieter than he meant it to be.
Leo bit back a groan of irritation before giving a proper response. "Alright, Don. New plan. You and I will head to the docks together. Our first priority has to be team safety. Second to that is stealth. Now, let's move."
Without another word, the two of them ran together, Leo keeping at Don's pace to avoid the chance of getting separated. Despite Don's fatigue, his own worry and determination allowed him an impressive speed. Their trip to the docks was silent and purposeful, and what they found was exactly like they expected.
Michelangelo's prone form was unconscious among a series of crates, guarded by no less than a dozen Foot. Meanwhile, Raphael was thick in the action, wielding a sai in each hand and fending off another group of black-clad ninja in an attempt to rescue the orange-banded sibling.
At Leo's signal, both he and Don leapt from their perch, tucked into a flip and landed among the fray. Weapons brandished, they joined Raphael in the fight.
"What the fuck are ya doin'? Go aftah Mikey," Raph all but roared as he deflected an oncoming sword. "Leave these guys ta me and save Mikey!" He shouted, giving a swift kick to one assailant and stabbing another in the throat with his own blades.
In that moment, time froze.
The fight ceased.
Everyone, enemy and comrade alike looked over to see Raphael blade-deep in throat-blood. The blood, thick and syrupy, gushed from the fresh wound and ran down his emerald green hands. It was impossible for the puncture to be anything but fatal.
"Raph what have you-" Leo began, but Don silenced him with a hand over his mouth. Both had wide eyes set on the scene before them as they watched Raphael slowly withdraw the bloodied weapon; the injured ninja crumpled to the ground.
Blood literally on his hands, Raph simply stared. While he'd been in countless battles and put many people in the hospital, to his knowledge he'd never actually killed anybody. He tried to take a moment to digest, to comprehend his actions, but before he could even begin to process just what he had done, another attack was aimed at him, forcing his mind and body back into the brawl. Quick decisions, rash actions, and no real comprehension. Fighting was easy, thinking was not. And Raphael focused on that fact.
Neither Leo nor Don could be sure of how to handle what had transpired. Don slowly lowered his hand from Leo's mouth and Leo whispered: "Let's worry about Mikey first."
And with a hesitant nod, Don agreed.
Foot ninja were piled around Michelangelo, almost guarding.
Katana blades at the ready, Leo rushed at them with Don right behind him, wielding his bo. Leo jumped and flipped, landing dead-center of the group next to his fallen brother, shielding the younger turtle and countering every attack that came his way. Some part of his mind registered that he was being purely defensive for a reason, but he refused to dwell on it just yet.
Swinging is bo with utmost precision, Don swept at the ninja horde, knocking their legs out from under them before delivering accurate whacks to their temples, just hard enough to render them unconscious. Between himself and Leo, the Foot were systematically dealt with and they were able to stake their claim on Mikey. They got on either side of their youngest brother and picked him up with dual effort.
"We need to get back to the lair," Leo said to Don, then turned his attention back to his red-banded sibling before shouting: "Raph! Fend them off and retreat!"
Raph slammed his foot into the chest of another ninja, knocking him back. "Retreat?!" He was mortified at the very idea. Aggression burned through him. "I'm not fuckin' weak; I can take 'em, Leo! Just get Mikey outta here!"
"Raph," Leo said evenly, "this is a direct order."
"Yeah? Well, I already killed one ninja tonight, Leo. Let's not make it two!" Raph ground out angrily, his blood pulsing hotly as he launched yet another attack.
Puzzled, Leo just stood there, helping to support Michelangelo.
Frowning, Don gave a sidelong glance at his blue-banded brother. "It's your call, Leo. You're the leader."
"Don, get Mikey home. I'll get Raph."
As Donatello took on the full weight of the youngest turtle and ducked into the shadows, Leo moved into an offensive stance, his katana tight in his grip.
None of the turtles noticed the lone figure above, watching in earnest as his armor glinted in the moonlight.
...
[Another one down. Another one on the way.]