A/N: Be warned sweet readers, this chapter contains rough material. A lot of horrible things can happen within 24 hours. And I can't seem to write anything light and fluffy lately, so please consider this a staunch warning to sensitive readers. You may want to skip the second act of Leonardo's situation.

For those of you who enjoy it rough, well, read on and enjoy!

Chapter 3

His head snapped back. His teeth clacked together. The bright flare of pain blinded him. Heels knocked against the mat as he careened backwards. The men surrounding him and the Shredder made no sound as the fight wore on. He was caught by the shell and shoved forward. The room spun and he felt the edges of his vision go frighteningly dark for a second. Leonardo gave his head a sharp shake, but it did nothing for his vision as his right eye was blinded by the blood pouring from a gash just above it. A line of spittle and blood hung from his swollen mouth as he stood trying to force air into his squeezing chest.

The fight had only just started, or had it been going on for hours? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that his legs were beginning to feel like rippling rubber bands and it was getting harder and harder to bring his hands up to block. They felt encased in concrete. Both forearms were dark and bruised to a point that every block sent a bolt of agony up through his shoulders and upper back. His legs sported overlapping bruises running from his thighs down to his calves.

He swerved as a neat kick swept by his face, missing it by an inch. His feet side-stepped and his body swayed, threatening to fall over, but he caught himself. Another swipe of the Shredder's left fist followed by his elbow in a sharp jab had Leonardo stumbling over his feet to avoid the blows, now basically running from the man. Not even defending. His father would be so ashamed if he saw this. The thought struck a bitter and painful chord in the battered boy's heart.

The Shredder possessed an inhuman speed. He seemed to anticipate every attack Leonardo sent his way. Managing to block all but a very few; knocking away his fists and feet like he was batting away a gnat. Every blow, strike and kick the Shredder delivered were utilized with utmost precision and carried out in staggering skill. He wasted no energy. His strikes were clean as they were powerful. He wasn't even breathing heavy. Leonardo's head whipped around, trying to get his bearings and determine where the Shredder was coming at him.

Again, he was in front of him. Leonardo gasped and had just enough time to cover his face with both forearms crossed. But it did little good. The mat rose up and smacked Leonardo in the back of his head as he fell again. Then again. Then once more as he just struggled to raise up onto his knees. The blow had him tumbling to the side.

He dimly felt the men push him with their feet back towards the center of the space. He could only roll onto his face with a groan. Slowly, he braced one hand, then the other onto the mat and tried to lift himself up. His arms quivered. He would not give up so easily. From the corner of his uninjured eye, he could just see the Shredder's feet pacing. Waiting for him to right himself. His elbows shook violently as he tried to push up from the mat; forehead resting on it. It was no good. He was too weak. His eyes fluttered closed as he collapsed back down to the mat. He swallowed the heavy flow of blood filling his mouth. It choked him and made his stomach roil in protest. Every breath hurt. He was sure his ribs were bruised if not broken on either side. He lay, panting and trembling on his stomach; every inch of his body throbbed and ached. His eyes rolled and refused to focus. The edges of his vision when he could see were getting darker by the second.

The Shredder stalked around him. With the back of one hand, he wiped the dribble of blood from his bottom lip. Leonardo had managed to connect more than once, but it seemed like every blow he landed was matched by several from the Shredder. Each more violent and painful than the last.

"If you can stand up, I will let you live . . ." he paused, one brow cocked, "as my pet."

Not much of an offer, but despite the pain, Leonardo was not ready to die, yet. His fingers worked and then with a grunt and a soft growl, Leo braced his hands under himself. Gathering the last frayed strings of strength that remained within him, he rose up on wobbling legs with his spinning head hanging low. But he stood.

"Very good. You live."

He swayed backwards and two ninja caught him.

The next thing he knew, he was being dragged down a dimly lit hallway and thrown like a sack into a room not much bigger than a closet. He fell against the wall and slid down on limp legs that folded underneath him, leaving a long line of red. His cheek rested on the rough stone. He braced one palm against the wall to steady himself. He stayed like that until his legs cramped and his back ached. Slowly, he pushed himself from the wall and twisted towards the narrow cot provided on the floor near him. He crawled to it and lowered his throbbing head down. His moment of respite lasting only enough time to get his rapid breathing down to shallow panting from the effort it took to move a few feet. Voices filled the room and the scrape of the door had him trying to open one swollen eye to see what was coming next for him.

He braced himself and tensed as the small space was suddenly crowded by several men. Nothing could prepare him for the cruelty the men had in store.

"Pick him up."

Karai moaned. Her head throbbed and there was an acidic taste in the back of her mouth. She screwed up her face and winced. One eye cracked open and once it stared at the ceiling for a moment, realization of where she was hit her. She bolted upright and her head swam to a point that had her nearly careening off the side of the cot she lay upon. Warm hands caught her. Steadied her with gentle pressure, easing her back down. Her eyes snapped up. Splinter gazed down at her.

"Miwa," he said softly and his eyes were glassy and bright.

Karai slapped his hands away. She snarled, "Don't call me that!"

Splinter bobbed his head. "So be it. I will call you by the name you recognize as your own. It was not the name you were given at birth, however."

She narrowed her eyes and scowled at him. She moved to cross her arms over her chest when her left arm caught and strained against a metal cuff secured around her wrist. She started and yanked at it. Splinter's hand rested on her wrist, stilling her movements.

"Do not struggle. You are restrained."

"So I am your prisoner," she spat.

But her heart was racing rapidly and the panic was not hidden in her eyes. She still reeled from what had been done to her. Her father, whom until hours ago, the man she considered her blood, someone she would have died for, someone she had loved with all her heart, had explained in no uncertain terms that he needed her services no longer. Her services, as if she were a hired maid that he no longer had use for. He told her that she was to be given to the Hamato Clan, their sworn enemy to secure a truce.

Karai had laughed, thinking it was a joke. A cruel one, but a joke nonetheless. The Shredder had stared flatly at her. The laughter died in her squeezing throat. The fear clawed its way up her spine. His eyes were cold. Alien and distant. It was all true. She had shouted, complained and eventually, to her shame, she had begged him. Exclaiming her loyalty and her love. He was unmoved. It was as though she were speaking to a statue. Her words meant nothing to him. Her love even less so. And she had been given away like a doll no longer cherished by its owner. Thrown to the rats, literally.

"No, Miw- . . . Karai. Not so much, but I knew no other way to convince you to allow me to state my case . . ." Splinter trailed off. He was struggling, it was plain to Karai that this was not easy on the mutant. She chewed her bottom lip and waited for him to finish. "I wish no harm to come to you. And none shall, but you must remain calm and trust that I have no intention of hurting you."

She digested this. Heart racing along with her mind. If there was a way to prove her loyalty to her father, her real father, then maybe the answer lied here. Among these freaks. Perhaps all of this was merely a test of her dedication and commitment to the Foot Clan. In the back of her mind, Karai knew it was not so. Her father, no, the man who raised her to be a tool, nothing more, had made it clear that he held no sentimental connection with her. He had made it brutally clear that she was nothing to him while she begged for any sign that he loved her. That he ever loved her. The tears stung the backs of her eyes. The lump was solid and very real in the center of her throat.

But she could not surrender to this situation just yet. She had never been someone who gave into fate so easily. She rolled her face to the wall.

"Karai, you are my child. Stolen when you were only a baby. Stolen from your mother's dying arms."

There was a desperate note in his voice. A pleading underneath the desperation. Karai clamped her eyes shut tightly. A familiar pang struck her heart at the mention of her long deceased mother. A mother she had yearned for over the years. How dare this rat creature speak of her?

"Go away," she hissed.

Splinter hesitated. Then stood. He lifted a quilt and laid it over her body. A tremor went through her at the soft touch. He patted her shoulder. But she kept her face to the wall. Jaw clenched in stubborn refusal to be comforted.

"I am sorry about the restraint. I hope you will not be too uncomfortable. In time, it will not be this way."

He stopped speaking and Karai drew a shuddering breath, doing her best to steel herself against the tide of his gentle, reassuring words. His kindness felt like blows to her body and heart. She ached in a way that she'd never felt before. As though she had been beaten. But not at this rat's hands, no. Beaten by the man she once reverently called 'father'. It hurt. It hurt too much. So she did what she always did when in pain: she lashed out.

"If you need anything. Please, just say so. I-"

"He will kill him," she interrupted, speaking to the wall. Splinter's mouth snapped closed. Karai slowly rolled her head to look at the old rat. He withered under her gaze; so resigned and level.

A memory sharp and painful pierced his mind. Tang Shen giving him a similar look. It was after his attempt at installing a large water garden on their property. After much arguing over where to place it and whether or not to hire men to complete the job, he had stubbornly plowed forward with his own plans. As days of work turned into weeks of frustration, he continued to refuse to listen to her advice. Determined to do it himself. When it all collapsed into a muddy ruin, she had looked at him like that; that knowing expression. She never said a word, only gave him that same, level, knowing look, as though she could see through his pride directly past it to his folly.

Karai went on, bringing him back to the present with a small gasp, and though her voice was soft it was laced with bitterness, "How could you do that to someone you claim to love?"

His voice wavered and came out much less confident than he intended, "I will rescue him. He will be fine."

Karai only stared at him for a while longer with that look. That uncanny mirror of the woman he loved with all his heart and soul, long passed from this world. That look that told him he was wrong. So terribly wrong. Splinter could bare it no longer. He backed up and fled from the room. From his daughter. And the ghost of memories from the woman he loved.

The room was tiled from floor to ceiling. Metal faucets stuck out in a long row just higher than his head if he were standing. They flung him down upon the hard surface. As he righted himself he was met with a blast of cold water, propelling him back, slamming him against the wall. Over the sound of the rushing spray, he could hear them laughing as they hosed him down. The water stung where it struck his bruises, biting his wounded flesh like a hundred tiny, razor-sharp teeth. He whimpered and eventually rolled himself into a fetal position, covering his face and head with his arms, pulling his knees up to his chest. Finally the assault ended, leaving him dripping and trembling with cold.

He was grabbed by the rim of his shell and spun around. Rough hands toweled him down. He struggled and fought against them as best as he could. But he was weakened from his beating. His growls echoed strangely in the room.

"Hold him down," one of them said.

He kicked as his legs were gripped and held, shoved with his shoulders as another grabbed his hands and held them above his head, sitting on his forearms, pressing his full weight down on his shoulders. His growling was cut short as a chop struck him across the throat. His body constricted and then shook with pain as he choked and struggled to breathe.

Dimly he was aware of his legs being spread apart and a man kneeling between his legs. It wasn't until the room fell strangely quiet, aside from his coughing and their shallow heavy breathing, and his tail was grasped and painfully yanked back, that the icy realization of what was about to happen struck him. He strained and struggled with renewed vigor as he fought to free himself. It did nothing but encourage them to be more aggressive. The blows rained down on him. The pain splintered up through his body. The humiliation smothered him.

The men switched places. He fought desperately and was pinned once more. His tears of rage and horror burned searing tracks down the sides of his flushed face. The alternating assault continued until each had taken a piece of him. He lay trembling and broken on the slick surface as they stood up and began chuckling and pushing at him until he rolled to one side.

They made to pick him up when he tackled one to the ground with a sudden cry of outrage and fury. He straddled the man and with eyes white with rage, he pummeled the man's face with his fists. When another wrapped his arms around Leonardo's throat, Leo fumbled and just managed to flip him with a snarl. He twisted and dove at another of his attackers. The ninja blocked and moved to wrap his hands around the young mutant's throat. Leonardo savagely snapped his jaws, like a wild animal, biting his hand and drawing blood. The man flailed and howled and struck him with fast jabs until Leo fell back, heaving and growling; mouth full of the man's bitter tasting blood.

The voice boomed like a thunderclap over and around him, filling the echoing space with sound too loud to his sensitive ears, "What is going on here?"

The men parted from Leonardo's supine form. For a heartbeat no one spoke or moved as the Shredder's eyes scanned the scene. The metal of his spikes and gauntlets gleamed in the light. Leonardo could barely squint into the room from the glinting blades.

One of the men broke the silence, the man he had bitten, "H-He attacked us, Master." He raised his bloody hand as proof.

The Shredder's eyes flashed from the torn appendage to Leonardo. He gestured at him and the men hoisted him up on wobbling legs. He shrugged his shoulders violently but fell still. Leonardo had no more strength to fight. He whimpered softly as the Shredder strode closer to him. The Shredder's eyes flicked to the trickle of blood trailing down the inside of both his trembling thighs. If there was any sympathy in his new Master's gaze, Leonardo did not see it.

"You will learn your place, pet," the Shredder said.

His head jerked to the man on Leonardo's left. The man quickly wrapped his arms around Leo's elbow, holding his arm out in a stiff angle. Leonardo's eyes flitted from his exposed arm to the Shredder just as he adjusted his stance. He only had the chance to whimper out a frightened cry as the gauntlet flashed, coming down to strike through his flesh and bone as neatly as slicing through a melon.

His scream bounced and echoed through the room. It was the last thing he heard as his world went black.

A/N: I said a lot can happen in 24 hours, didn't I?