A/n: A big thank you again to Amonrapheonix and DarkUnderworld for taking the time to pick through this chapter and tie up all the lose ends. Thank you so much to my readers for your continued support on this story. I apologise for leaving you all off with yet another cliffie- but that's what I do ;)

-Chapter Twenty Six-

-Raphael-

Raphael felt like he was flying. He knew he was going to die, that was a given. But he couldn't help but think that everything was so…calm, like his mind as well as his spirit had already accepted his inescapable demise. Everything felt like it was all playing out in slow-motion, when really, the whole thing must have happened in around five seconds. For a moment, Raphael felt no pain, no hatred, and no sorrow, he only felt freedom; beautiful glorious freedom. Something he had desired ever since he was a small child; something that had been forbidden to him, and because of which the desire had only grown sweeter.

All of his memories, all of his pain, his anguish, all vanished like early morning fog on a hot day. It felt like his heart had grown wings, and he stretched his arms out wide, determined to soar right out of the building and up into the waiting starry sky like a majestic eagle.

But then reality hit like a truck and smashed him cruelly back into reality. The ground rushed up to him in a blur as he toppled through the air. Hitting the ground, hard, he landed on his right leg first... his crippled leg. There was a flash of blazing hot pain, a spear of pure blinding agony. The only sound he could hear where his tortured screams before everything went black and otherworldly forces dragged him down into blissful oblivion.

-Leonardo-

Leo watched in abject horror as his brother was thrown over the catwalk. It all happened so fast- if Leo had blinked he would have missed the whole horrific scene.

Raphael fell, like his body was weighed down with heavy stones. He hit the ground hard, the sound echoing ominously around the warehouse. Leo watched as Raphael's bad leg hit the ground first, at a tremendous speed. Then there was a sound he would never forget; and would plague and haunt his dreams for the rest of his life.

It was the sound of bones snapping. The pins that had been holding Raphael's leg together shattered straight through his leg on impact, mangling his leg into a bloody mess of bone and muscle. Then, Raphael screamed, a long, tortured scream as he withered in absolute agony before he went eerily still, his body slumping in a heap, lay unmoving on the cold, hard ground; for all appearances dead.

"Raph. NO!" Leo screamed, moving without even realizing it. He leapt down the steps of the first catwalk and fell to his unmoving brother's side, hot tears streaming down his face.

"Raph, please...Raph don't go," Leo whispered chokingly as he gently lifted his brother's head into his lap. A streak of blood caressed his neck where the knife had nicked his skin, and his leg…Leo couldn't even look at the grisly sight of it.

He dimly heard the sounds of Mikey vomiting somewhere nearby, and Don's hushed but firm words, telling Leo to move out of the way. Donatello crouched down beside his brothers, tears staining the edges of his mask a deep plum. His hands shook as he gently placed them on Raphael's body, feeling for any signs of life.

He looked up to meet Leo's tortured gaze and shook his head grimly.

Leo let out an anguished, grief stricken scream of loss as he clutched Raphael tighter.

Raphael didn't know where he was. He couldn't remember much, and what he could remember was a jumbled mess. He couldn't feel anything, hear anything or smell anything. He could only see-flashes of colours, so pure and bright he thought they might blind him; majesticblues, royal purples, anddazzling gold. He could taste something sweet on his tongue, something he couldn't decipher. He felt warm, like he was bathing in liquid sunlight. And suddenly, he was assaulted with the sound of birds singing and the gentle caress of wind stirring through the trees. He could smell freshly cut grass, and dirt and fresh, clean water.

Raphael smiled. He didn't knowwhere he was, but he liked this place- this place of colours and smells and warmth. He felt freer than a bird, warmer than the sun, calmer than the sea. This was a good place, a very good place. He hoped he would spend the rest of his life here.

The sunlight started to fade, sucking away some of the warmth. The colours became darker, blurring together until a moving picture was formed. Quick flashes assaulted his vision, startling images-or were they memories? Flashes of rain, of desolate roads, of sudden blinding light and tall trees. He saw white walls and a white ceiling-saw something hot coming down towards his eye- then nothing. He saw faces, much like his own but not-familiar; faces associated with warmth and compassion and love.

And then all the warmth, all the comforting smells, weresucked away and he was in a pool of black water that was colder than ice.

"No, stop, please!" He cried out, confused at what was happening. He wanted to stay in the warm place, a place free of pain and discomfort, not this. But the water sucked him down, icy tentacles wrapping tightly around his body until he was suffocating.

With a gurgledscream he was dragged under and away from the light, the warmth and the peace.

Bright light flooded his vision, making him wince in pain. Raphael moaned and brought his hand up to cover his eye, from the blinding light. His hand touched something soft and achingly familiar. He ran his fingers over the smooth fabric of his mask. His fingers brushed into something harder than his fabric. He felt cautiously over the small space that used to be a cut-out for him to see through. But he couldn't see, not out of his right eye anyway. Thick stiches had been sewn into his mask, closing that part of the fabric over his mangled and unseeing eye.

Raphael blinked his good eye, a familiar room coming into focus. He was in the infirmary in Donatello's lab.

He slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, his whole body throbbing and aching with pain. He gnashed his teeth together and tried to stifle a moan. As he pushed himself up into a sitting position something felt…wrong about the movement.

The door opened and Don walked in, his eyes shining with relief when he saw Raphael awake and sitting up.

"Raph, thank god you're awake," the genius breathed, rushing over to his brother and wrapping him in a tight hug. "We thought we lost you, you've been unconscious for almost two weeks."

"Me? Nah," Raph said, pulling back to look at Donnie. "I know I'm a pain in the butt, but you can't get rid of me that easily."

"How are you feeling?" Don asked, switching into doctor-mode.

"Bloody sore," Raph mumbled, absently touching the fabric over his lost eye.

"Sorry about that," Don whispered miserably. "I couldn't save your eye."

"It's okay Don, I figured it was lost as soon as that basted held up the poker," Raphael said bitterly. "Oh, hey Don, do you think I could get a tattoo or something to cover up this damn brand?" Raph asked, twisting to look down at his arm where the purple dragon logo scared his emerald flesh.

"I should be able to do a skin-graft to cover it," Don assured him, though Raphael could tell that something was bothering him.

"Where are the others?" Raph asked curiously.

"Out in the kitchen, Master Splinter's making them eat a proper meal." Donnie replied with a grin.

"Don, what happened?" Raphael asked seriously.

"How much do you remember?" Don asked hesitantly.

"I remember Bishop making me believe that you guys were dead, and some guy dragging me down a hallway, but that's it."

Don looked down at his hands and swallowed, a lump having formed painfully in his throat. "We came to rescue you," he whispered, tears stinging his eyes. "One of the Purple Dragons dragged you up to the second-floor catwalk. Leo tried to signal to Mikey to go around the back to get you while we distracted him but…he must have got an order or something from Bishop. He pushed you off the catwalk."

Raph had a sudden flash of memory of what felt like flying.

"You hit the ground so hard," Don whispered, tears running unbidden down his cheeks. "You fell on your bad leg."

Raphael went rigid, understanding slamming into him.

"The pins…they smashed and…I couldn't fix your leg," Donnie whispered. "I…I had to amputate."

Raphael ripped back the sheets that had been covering him. He stared down in shock, his body growing numb; his left leg was normal apart from a few bruises and scrapes. Then he looked at what was left of his right leg. Don had amputated just past his hip joint. There was nothing left there except for a bit of his upper thigh that was heavily wrapped with white bandages.

"I'm so sorry Raph," Don sobbed wretchedly. "I tried to save it but I couldn't. The damage was to extensive."

Raphael blinked uncomprehendingly in shock as he felt hot tears run down his cheek, as he very gently touched what was left of his leg.