A/n: A big thank you to Amonrapheonix for beta-ing!
-Chapter Twenty Two-
Raphael's POV
Raphael awoke with a groan. His whole body felt as if it were on fire. The pain in his broken leg was immense; consuming him like a ragging inferno. His head pounded uncomfortably and his heart was beating painfully against his ribs. He felt like he was going to be sick, his stomach rolling uncontrollably while his body felt like it was made of lead.
As soon as he opened his eyes his world spun alarmingly and he quickly squeezed his eyes shut again. He felt so weak, the radiating pain from his leg was not only threatening to knock him back into the familiar and soothing world of unconsciousness, but also it sapped him of any strength he did have.
Despite all of this, something was strongly urging Raphael to open his eyes. He had the sinking feeling in his gut that something was very wrong, and no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, that little voice that was telling him to open his eyes just wouldn't shut up.
Ever so slowly, Raphael forced his eyes open the tiniest crack. Bright light flooded his vision, making him wince and snap eyes closed against the harsh light with a painful hiss.
However, the little voice would not be ignored. Stealing himself, Raphael forced his eyes open again, waiting for them to adjust.
Raphael found himself looking into a flickering florescent light hanging from a blindingly white ceiling. Taking his eyes away from the ceiling and looking around, he soon realized that he was in an unfamiliar small white roo. Pipes criss-crossed along the walls like thick metallic veins. Piled up in the far corner of the room were stacks of animal cages. Just to his left, trays filled with various sharp and pointy objects and equipment lay waiting; surgical tools, Raphael was sure of it. The room smelled of bleach and other sterile things.
Then with a jolt of horror, Raphael realized that he was strapped down onto a cold, hard, metal table.
"Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in."
Raphael froze in icy terror. That voice, it was so familiar; painfully familiar.
A tall man loomed over Raphael. He had dark hair, a pair of thin glasses perched on his nose, and was wearing a white lab coat. The smile on his face was contorted into a sadistic smirk.
Bishop
"Remember me?" Bishop asked with a grin, "Because I certainly remember you, Raphael."
"How did you get out?" Raphael growled, hating how raspy his voice sounded; how weak it was. "We locked you up ourselves!"
"Ah, yes, quite an eventful night I must say," Bishop grinned. "As for how I got out, let's just say I have connections that were more than happy to pay my bail."
"You're a murder," Raphael snarled. "A filthy, cold-blooded murderer."
"Oh, but that was merely an unfortunate accident."
"You shot a man point blank in cold blood!" Raphael shouted in exasperation.
Bishop shrugged. "He was getting on my nerves. Like I said, an unfortunate accident."
"You're nothing more than a sick little sadistic man who feels big when he plays with tools." Raphael spat, his eyes narrowed to amber slits.
"And you're nothing more than a useless reptile playing dress-up as a wanna be human," Bishop shot back. "But not for too much longer. Soon you will be nothing but a useless dead reptile."
"You wish," Raphael taunted in defiance.
"Oh I do, believe me. I often wish about it every hour actually."
"Are you going to just talk all day, 'cause you're really starting to irritate me," Raphael cut in sharply.
"Oh no, you are here for a purpose. You're here to tell me where the rest of your reptilian brothers are hiding, and the old rodent you call a father."
"No one talks about my family like that," Raphael snarled, his arms straining to loosen the bonds that held him tied down.
"And when you tell me," Bishop continued, ignoring him." Because you will tell me, I will destroy your home, and your so called family; then use your shells and your father's hide for lovely trophies to put up on my wall."
"Sorry to ruin it for ya', Pal, but I'm not telling you anything," Raphael growled.
"You say that now," Bishop said with a wicked grin, "but you don't know what fun games I have planned for you."
The sound of a door opening and closing shut cut off the sharp reply Raphael was about to deliver. Twin pairs of footsteps echoed over the floor, coming closer to where Raphael lay.
"Ah, Gentlemen," Bishop greeted with an oily smile. "So glad you could finally join us."
"Well, we couldn't miss out on this, could we."
Raphael froze. Icy shivers ran down his spine at the sound of that voice. Why was it so familiar?
Two faces loomed over Raphael, smirking down at him with sadistic glee.
Raphael couldn't suppress his gasp of realization. "You."
"Haha, I think he remembers us, Ryan,"
It was them; the Purple Dragon he had chased down the alleyway, and the Purple Dragon that had been waiting in the concealed truck. These two men in front of him were responsible for everything that had happened to him; falling off his bike, injuring him horribly and leaving him to die a slow agonizing death alone in the woods.
"You…you scum!" Raphael shouted in rage, trying desperately to free himself from his bonds.
"And to think we thought you had died," the second Purple Dragon laughed, the one known as Ryan. "Silly us."
"So what? You come back to finish the job, like the cowards that you are?" Raphael taunted.
"That would be telling, now wouldn't it?" Ryan grinned inhumanly.
A sharp, agonising pain radiated up from Raphael's bad leg. The pain made him cry out in agony. The pain was so sharp, so all consuming that he felt a hard wave of nausea roll through him, the acid biting at the back of his throat. He was going to be sick. His world spun as black spots danced before his eyes, causing him to believe that he was about to pass out.
"Interesting injury," Bishop mused, looking over the leg that he had just grabbed and jerked to get a closer look. "By the looks of it I'd say you were going at quite a speed. Your whole weight fell on this one leg, correct?"
"Fuck…you," Raphael gasped out, trying to focus on how to breathe through the pain.
"Looks like your brother did an acceptable job putting it back together again," Bishop continued. "Not a great job mind you, but I guess you turtles don't exactly have a lot of materials to work with. But I'm still impressed."
"Yeah, yeah, can we get on with it?" Ryan demanded impatiently.
"Oh yes, of course," Bishop smiled. "These boys have a little surprise for you, Raphael. Consider it becoming part of the family."
Raphael looked around wildly and froze when he saw the white-hot poker in Ryan's hands, shaped exactly like a Purple Dragon tattoo.
"Get that thing away from me!" Raphael yelled, struggling fiercely against his bonds.
"There ain't no way I'm having that filth branded onto me!"
"Juan, make sure he doesn't struggle too much," Ryan smirked, "don't want to ruin his new brand, now do we."
Bishop stood back as Juan moved over to Raphael, laying his big beefy hands over his arms to keep him still. Raphael struggled as Ryan came closer.
Raphael could hear the very air sizzle around the poker from the intense heat.
"Welcome to the Purple Dragons," Ryan said, laughing as he pushed the brand against Raphael's arm near the shoulder joint.
Raphael roared in excruciating agony, his voice echoing off of the room's plain white walls.