This chapter took me a bit to get done. I knew what was going to happen, but I ended up re-writing it. Anyway, things get a little uglier here. It's not graphic, but if a mention of painful things make you squeemish, you might want to be careful.

The abrupt departure of the younger turtle was enough to startle the former hunter out of the worst of his grief, though silent tears continued to roll down his face. Obviously he'd done something to scare the youngling off, and he'd no doubt run to fetch his elders. At least, that's what he thought the youngster had said; he'd still been reeling too much from recent events to pay much attention to the stripling attempting to comfort him.

The young warrior barely had the chance to begin composing himself when the two older turtles charged into the room. Despite his attempts at setting himself to rights, the mute turtle knew he must still look a mess. Not exactly the best first impression for the ones who now controlled his life.

The injured turtle took the opportunity to observe his new owners, as this was the first time he'd had to get a good look at them. The muscular, red-masked turtle was obviously the leader from the way he put himself between the others and what he perceived to be a potential threat. That would make the purple-masked turtle his second in command; his body-language was protective of the young orange-masked turtle that trailed in behind him.

Focusing his attention on the leader who was now approaching him, the off-worlder franticly tried to interpret the emotions his new overlord's face and body-language were conveying. His former master had only ever shown two emotions: harsh anger for failure, and cold, cruel pleasure for success and absolute obedience. Neither of those seemed to correspond with his new master's feelings, but the new drudge felt it best to play it safe. Moving as fast as his battered and painted body would go, he dropped to the floor in the Position of Submission.

He sat there, quivering, waiting for the pain he was certain was coming, but it never did. Instead, the red-masked turtle spluttered off a string of words he'd never heard before. Then, there was a soft touch on his shoulder, followed instantly by an almost electric shock that ran through both turtles. For a brief moment, the bond flared to life as it made a connection with the new turtle, and the bowed warrior could sense the other's mind.

That fleeting moment of relief was shattered, though, by his new master's rather violent response. The other turtle jumped back, breaking the physical contact, but through the newly formed bond the suffering turtle could sense his shock and outrage. This, at least was familiar ground, and the drudge waited for the punishment he knew was coming this time. From his former master it would have been the application of the laser prod to vulnerable and sensitive portions of his anatomy, or a stropping with a razor cord to the tender flesh along the back of his legs. But nothing happened.

Maybe he's testing me, the frightened turtle thought. Maybe he wants me to demonstrate I know my place. Biting his lip in preparation for the agony to come, the turtle triggered his former master's favorite punishment for disobedience. Pushing his will out through his still tender Spirit marks, he began to bring their temperature up. In a matter of moments they went from their normal dark green-gray to a molten red-white. If he could have made a sound, the turtle would have whimpered, for the torment was tremendous, as it felt like the marks were going to burn through to his bones, but he would hold out as long as his new masters desired. He'd once done so for three days straight; he could last until these three decided he'd paid his penance.

TMNT

When the injured turtle fell to his hand and knees at Raphael's feet, the red-masked turtle was momentarily startled, and he let out a string of curses his father would have washed his mouth out with soap for, had the elderly rat not been on his yearly pilgrimage to see the Ancient One. Once he got over his astonishment, though, Raphael knew he couldn't leave the obviously hurting turtle huddled like that on the floor. He reached out to touch the quivering turtle's shoulder, but as soon as his hand connected with the tattoo covered flesh, a sharp, almost electric shock zapped through him, seeming to settle in the back of his brain. Snatching his hand back like he'd been slapped, Raphael jumped back, startling his brothers.

"What's wrong, Raphael," Donatello asked, concern and wariness in his voice.

"He just…zapped me," Raphael growled. "It was some kind of psychic charge or something, because as soon as I touched him, I could feel him inside my head. What the shell was he thinking?! I was only trying to help him up."

"Maybe it was some kind of self-defense mechanism," Donatello postulated. "I mean, the last thing he might have remembered before he went unconscious was the fight with Bishop. If he was in pain and upset, he might have misconstrued your approach as some sort of attack."

"Uh, guys, can we talk about this later," Michelangelo interrupted. "I think there's something seriously wrong with our new friend here."

The two older turtles turned to look where Michelangelo was pointing. The previously dark green-gray markings covered almost every bare inch of the strange turtle's skin were now an ugly red-white color, like the color of heated metal, and his face was a mask of agony.

Raphael's eyes went wide in horror. "What's he doing? And more importantly, why is he doing it? He's obviously hurting himself; is he some kind of masochist or something?"

At those words, the pieces finally seemed to fall in place, and Donatello came to a rather revolting conclusion. "Not a masochist, Raphael, a slave, and I think hurting himself it kind of the point; it's some cruel, extreme version of self-punishment."

"How do we get him to stop," Michelangelo asked, beginning to sound panicky. "I mean, he's not a slave here; he doesn't have to do that to himself."

"I don't think it's going to be that easy, little brother," Donatello said. "Given the state of his body, he's been abused for a very, very long time. I think pain and punishment are all he knows, given how quickly he acted to punish himself in the face of Raphael's… distress."

"We can worry about all this later," Raphael growled. "We need to get him to stop. Now."

"I think our best bet is to use his own responses against him," Donatello said. "Ugh, I almost hate myself for doing this, but here goes nothing." Standing up as tall as he could, Donatello imperiously told the turtle at his feet, "Enough; the punishment's complete!"

Almost immediately the red faded from the marks, though it was obvious the name-less turtle was still in pain.

"Hurry, bring me a sheet soaked in cold water," Donatello told his younger brother. "We need to get his skin cooled back down."

While the youngest turtle ran to comply, Raphael asked, "What can I do?"

"Find me the morphine and a clean syringe," Donatello told him. "Also, look and see if you can find the aloe gel. Once we get him cooled down enough to touch, I'm going to knock him out for a while, and then apply the aloe. After today's events, I think it would be best if we kept him under for a few days, at least until he's healed up some. We then need to sit down as a family and discuss what we're going to do next. Whether he is who you think he is or not, no one deserves to be mistreated as he's clearly been."

"This isn't some stray puppy we're talking about here," Raphael pointed out. "Even if it is him, putting him back together is going to take a lot of time and patience."

"Which is why we have to come to a conclusion as a family," Donatello said. "I can't begin to imagine how Michelangelo's going to respond to this. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Let's get him settled, and then we'll talk."

Raphael already knew what his suggestion was going to be. Whether the Brainiac was willing to admit it or not, that was their brother, and it would only be over his broken shell that Leonardo was leaving them again.

So, Leo's old master was a bigger b****** than we thought. Well, Raphael and the others are on the case now, so Leo will start to get the care he needs.