Hey all! I hope everyone is enjoying their weekend:) Man, can't believe summer is almost over, crazy! Well anyway, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter.

I would like to thank Adrenalize Me Dominosowner, SleepingSeeker, RedWritingRebel, dondena, luvgrentmnt, Tori657 and BubblyShell22 for all of your wonderful reviews!

And a huge thank you as always to my lovely and amazing beta, Amonraphoenix for beta reading this chapter for me!

now, please enjoy:)

Chapter 2

Raphael groaned as he slowly pried his eyes open, only to be greeted to the sight of Michelangelo's shadowed face only inches from his own. His baby brother's honey brown eyes were wide, shining orbs filled with terror and the sheen of freshly fallen tears.

The terror was quickly replaced with relief as Michelangelo buried his face into Raphael's throat, a sob escaping his brother's lips.

Raphael let out a hiss of pain as his brother hugged him tightly, causing daggers of sharp, biting agony to shoot through him. Michelangelo pulled back quickly and looked at him with guilty horror and concern.

"I-I'm sorry, Raphie, I... j-just th-thought y-you were...were..."his voice stammered to a halt unable to finish the awful thought.

"Yeah, yeah, Knucklehead, I ain't dead," he grumbled and grimaced as another sharp piercing torrent of pain lanced through him. At least... not yet.

"Raph...I'm scared," Michelangelo whimpered softly, yanking deftly at the strings of Raphael's heart.

Trying to distract his brother from his fear, he asked, "Y-you okay?" And was annoyed at how his voice wavered as he tried and partially failed to mask the amount of excruciating pain he was in.

Michelangelo paused before giving a quick nod. "I...I think I sprained my ankle when we fell...but, you broke my fall, so...I'm okay." He bit his lip. "Are you okay?" he asked in a small, worried voice.

"I'm good," he lied, avoiding his brother's concerned gaze while glancing around. They appeared to have fallen into a tiny room or passageway of some sort, only being about four feet wide by 10 feet long. The walls were of crumbling brick and mortar that looked as if they had been laid at least fifty years ago or more. Whatever it had been, the passageway or chamber had been sealed off long ago with brick at one end and a slab of thick concrete at the other.

It reminded Raphael of some of the old prohibition smuggling tunnels and storage areas he had seen on a documentary once, and guessed that it was possible that was exactly where they had landed.

Moving his eyes to the ceiling, he could see where they had fallen through the damaged concrete floor of the warehouse twelve feet above, but the opening was completely blocked by debris, most likely from the roof of the building having collapsed overhead.

The faint crackle and hiss of angry flames could be heard above them, and the resulting weak orange light infused the small chamber with enough light to see through the thin layer of smoke that seeped through the debris above them.

He gave a quick glance to his brother, knowing how much Michelangelo hated small dark places, which was exactly where they were trapped at the moment.

Raphael turned his attention back to his brother who looked at him, his gaze fearful, panicked, but at the same time, oddly focused and intense. Michelangelo slid his arms beneath Raphael's shoulders and tried to pull him up.

Raphael let out a grunt of agony and Michelangelo quickly pulled back, his face filled with fear and renewed anxiety.

"Raph?" he questioned, voice quavering with worry. "How...We need to see how badly you're hurt," he finished firmly.

"No, we need to get the hell outa here," Raphael growled as he shifted and winced as he tried to ignore the pain, and fight through it, forcing himself to stand, but found that he couldn't. Slumping back in defeat he let out a sharp cry followed by an irritated huff of breath.

"Raph-" Michelangelo began but Raphael cut him off.

"My leg's broken," he ground out in disgust, "and probably a couple ribs and my right arm. So you're gonna haveta look for a way outta here."

Michelangelo nodded, standing and limping around the perimeter of the small room. As his brother futilely looked for some other way out besides the blocked hole in the ceiling above them, Raphael surreptitiously slid his good arm under his jacket and shirt, wincing as he touched a deep gash in his side. He pulled his hand away and looked at the blood that coated his fingertips. He swore lowly under his breath. A piece of shrapnel had struck him in the side just under his ribs, between his plastron and carapace. He didn't know how bad he'd been hurt, but he strongly suspected that he was hurt pretty badly. He knew he needed Donny to look at his injuries sooner rather than later, but they needed to get out of the chamber first.

Moving his bloodied hand to his jacket, he pulled out his phone, which had been smashed in the fall. Closing his eyes he frowned in frustration and shoved his phone back in his pocket.

"Hey, Mikey, your phone workin'?" he asked in a raspy voice.

Michelangelo shook his head. "I don't know where it is. It must have fallen out of my pocket in the blast," he answered with a groan of frustration as he finished his slow progress around the room and hobbled over to where Raphael half lay against the rough brick wall.

"Great," Raphael grumbled closing his eyes and leaning his head back against cool brick.

"What do we do?" Michelangelo asked fearfully. "Even if we could climb out, the hole's blocked."

"Don't forget the fact that the warehouse is still burnin' above us," Raphael pointed out as he opened his eyes, looking at the barely discernible features of his baby brother. "Guess the only thing we can do is wait till either Donny or Leo notices we're missin', and hope they find us."

Leonardo put the van in park and turned off the ignition. Donatello slid from the passenger seat, exhausted but content and pleased with himself for having torn apart and fixed the boiler in the basement of April's apartment building.

Donatello liked nothing better than to tinker, and as far as Leonardo knew, his younger genius brother had probably not only fixed the rusty worn out hunk of what Leonardo would deem to be a pile of junk better placed in a junkyard, but improved it and made it better.

Leonardo had gone more for moral support, but had found himself roped into doing much of the heavy lifting with Casey while Donatello had lain upon his carapace and poked, prodded and fixed the boiler.

And because of this, Leonardo and Donatello were both covered in grease, oil, dust and what he suspected to be more than a few spider webs.

Letting out a tired sigh, he opened his door and slid from the van, looking forward to having a warm shower and then falling straight into bed. It had been a late night that had lasted into the early morning and he was ready for sleep.

Leaving Donatello to unwind in the lab, his mind already busy working on his next project , Leonardo walked through the quiet lair and into the bathroom to wash the grit and grime from his body.

Finishing with this, he made his way back to Donatello's lab to tell his younger brother not to stay up too late, and to get some sleep as Leonardo had planned for all of his brothers to train early in the morning.

Donatello gave him a small nod of acknowledgement and a half-hearted agreement that Leonardo knew his brother would forget about as soon as Leonardo left the room.

Letting out a sigh of resignation, he left his younger brother to do whatever it was that he did and accepted the fact that Donatello would be weary-eyed and sleep deprived for tomorrow's training session.

Making his way to the living room to check in with his other siblings, he found the area dark and unoccupied. Frowning, he made his way to the dojo, believing he would at least find Raphael, but he found it also to be dark and empty.

It was after one in the morning, but Leonardo did not expect for both of his younger brothers to be in bed. Of course, it wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that both Raphael and Michelangelo had gotten sick of each other's company and rather than kill each other, had retreated to their bedrooms.

Feeling a small ball of worry settle into his gut, he made his way upstairs, and opted for the safer choice of bothering Michelangelo as opposed to riling his hot-headed brother. He knocked on Michelangelo's door and not receiving an answer after a few more knocks, opened the door and found the room to be empty.

The small ball of unease in his gut grew larger as he walked down the hall and knocked on his red masked brother's door. Not receiving any reply, he carefully eased open the door and found Raphael's room to also be empty.

Leonardo's skin began to tighten with worry and annoyance. He had specifically told his brothers not to go anywhere. Shoulders slumping, he grumbled under his breath at what was obviously Raphael's need to rebel against Leonardo's orders.

Anger shot through him over his hot-headed brother's need to disobey him at every turn, and this time he had dragged Michelangelo into it as well.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, he strode back down to the main level, heading to the kitchen to make himself some tea, intent on waiting for his two troublesome brothers to return.

Sitting at the kitchen table, he slowly drank his tea and wondered what he was going to have to do to get Raphael to understand that Leonardo was only looking after their family. Raphael had to learn to be more responsible and to look out for their family as opposed to turning his back on them, running headlong into trouble, and placing all of them in danger with his reckless behaviour.

After an hour of staring into his empty tea cup and coming no closer to knowing how to approach Raphael, the small knot of worry that he had been unable to completely banish from the bottom of his stomach grew into something akin to dread.

Pulling out his phone, he called both of his brothers and only got their voicemail. Standing, he made his way to the lab and roused Donatello, who had fallen asleep upon his keyboard.

"Raph and Mikey are gone," he told his brother, "and I'm worried."

Donatello pulled his hands down his face and began asking Leonardo questions in a rapid-fire manner, to which Leonardo quickly answered back.

Fingers flying across the keyboard, Donatello began to trace their brother's phones and found he wasn't able to track Raphael's, which sent a spike of anxiety flooding through him.

Tracking Michelangelo's phone, they narrowed down their baby brother's location to a warehouse close to the docks.

Sharing a fearful look with Donatello, he couldn't quite get rid of the heavy feeling of wrongness which had suddenly invaded his very soul.

Raphael watched as his baby brother's darkened figure slumped down in defeat across from him. Even though his efforts were futile, Michelangelo had refused to give up, scouring the darkened room, his fingers tracing the rough walls and looking for any weakness in the structure or any hidden hole they could make bigger with a few well aimed kicks or punches. Michelangelo had even attempted to reach the ceiling, standing upon the rubble that had fallen through the ceiling when they had, in order to discover some way out of the passageway, but there was none.

"We're trapped," Michelangelo whispered with fearful despondence. "There's no way out!" Panic gripped his brother and held on tightly.

Trying to calm his frightened brother, he replied, "Well, we ain't dead, so it's a start," he growled. "We just gotta wait till Leo and Donny get us outta here, that's all."

"Do you really think Leo and Donny are looking for us?" Michelangelo asked in a small, hopeful voice.

"Yeah," Raphael answered, not knowing if their two other brothers were really searching for them, but he gave his baby brother the hope that they were going to be rescued soon anyway.

Michelangelo slowly got to his hands and knees, shuffling over the few feet towards Raphael, kneeling in front of him and searching his eyes for the truth.

"Mikey, they're looking for us," Raphael told his brother firmly, his gaze holding his brother's in steady affirmation.

Michelangelo gave a curt nod and settled back against the same wall Raphael lay against.

Raphael didn't tell his brother that even if Donatello and Leonardo found them, that their brothers would have to somehow locate the warehouse, douse the fire, and then remove the debris that covered the opening before being able to actually pull them out from the small space they found themselves in, because he didn't want Michelangelo to lose hope and panic.

They had both heard fire trucks and sirens, but it seemed that the firefighters were content to let the building burn; probably focusing instead on stopping the spread of the fire. Of course, this was just Raphael's assumption. The fire department could very well be attempting to stop the blaze, but were having issues putting out the fire that ravaged the old, dry, wooden building that had gone up like a tinder box.

However, as time passed, Raphael found that keeping his eyes open was becoming increasingly difficult. He wondered how much of this was due to his injuries or just general exhaustion, until Michelangelo began to complain how tired he was as well.

It was then he realized that the fire that blazed above them, coupled with the small, and surprisingly air-tight space they were occupying, was slowly depriving them of their precious oxygen.

Heart beating rapidly in his chest, he silently prayed that his brothers would arrive soon, and that by some miracle, they had a plan, because if they didn't, he and Michelangelo were going to suffocate to death before they were rescued.

Attempting to keep them both awake and his brother's increasing lethargy at bay, Raphael began talking about inconsequential things at first; sports, the weather, and crime in the city, anything to keep his brother's mind occupied and away from the growing tiredness that was infecting both of them.

All the while, Raphael's mind spun. He knew he was helpless to get them out of the situation they were in, but he had to find some way -do something- to save his baby brother; because it was his fault Michelangelo was there with him instead of safe at home playing video games or sleeping in his bed.

Taking in a slow breath, an idea slowly began to take form in his mind, and once it was fully formed, Raphael knew it was the only option he had. He needed to give Leonardo and Donatello more time; and time was something he and Michelangelo did not have enough of.

"You know why I piss Leo off?" Raphael asked out of the blue. The question so startled his baby brother that he was able to make out his brother's eyes widening in shock. Michelangelo managed to bestir himself enough to sit up straight and swivel around to see Raphael's face better.

"Why?" Michelangelo asked in sleepy curiosity.

"Cause it's my job," Raphael answered blithely.

Michelangelo shook his head, and probably rolled his eyes, not that Raphael could see too well in the gloom that surrounded them anymore. The fire above them must have burned down a little, because the light that had been filtering from above them, seemed to be waning.

Michelangelo was about to flop back against the wall, but Raphael's next words caught and held his attention again.

"I fight with him and give him a hard time because if I didn't, we wouldn't get him out of the dojo. He trains, he patrols this city, and for what? Nothin'. But it's what makes him tick. He protects us and this city, but what about him? He forgets that there's more to life than tryin' to live up his unreal expectations of himself and what he thinks Master Splinter would have wanted. I miss my brother, so I gotta remind him that he's not our father, and I gotta do this by pissin him off and makin him loosen up a bit an live a little."

"Raph..." Michelangelo's words trailed off as if he wasn't quite sure to say. "Wait. Is that why you didn't do your chores today, so Leo would make you stay in the lair as 'punishment' which meant he would have to go in your place?" Michelangelo asked.

Raphael gave a smirk. "I know I always say I hate Leo, but I don't. I admire the guy, hell, I love him. It doesn't mean he don't drive me crazy, but I wouldn't want it any other way. You all drive me nuts, but you're my brothers; we're supposed to get under each other's skin."

"Raph, you're starting to freak me out," Michelangelo said, reaching out and grabbing him by the shoulders and very gently shaking him. "Were going to get out of this," Michelangelo insisted, his voice filled with the strong belief that his words were nothing but the absolute truth.

Raphael gave a small humourless smile, amused that it was now Michelangelo who was now trying to comfort him. "Well, just in case we don't, I'm lettin' you know that I love ya," Raphael told his baby brother sincerely, concentrating on each word he was going to say.

"Raph, we're going to be fine," Michelangelo assured him, his words slurring slightly.

Raphael only snorted and gave his brother a lopsided grin. "You're a pain in my ass, Mikey," he said affectionately and Michelangelo grinned. "But, you're right, Leo and Donny are gonna find us. And…I'm sorry, Mikey."

"Raph, this wasn't your fault."

Lightning quick Raphael used his remaining strength to lift his arm and smash his baby brother across the head with the butt end of his sai. Michelangelo's eyes rolled up into his head and slumped to the floor in an unconscious heap.

"Yeah it is," he replied regretfully. Leaning forward as much as he was able to, Raphael used his good hand to find the pulse at Michelangelo's throat, hoping he hadn't done more damage than just knocking his brother unconscious. Finding his brother's strong pulse beneath his fingertips, he sorrowfully told his brother, "I'm sorry for draggin' you out and I'm sorry for havin to do this, but Donny and Leo need more time, so I gotta give it to them, and this is the only way I can think to help 'em out. And besides…I'm probably dead anyway."

Michelangelo painfully pried his eyes open and blinked at the inky darkness that surrounded him. Fear clutched at his heart as terror rose up within him and threatened to choke him. Reaching out blindly with his left hand he encountered the leg of his older brother and let out a sigh of relief. He didn't like small, dark places, but as long as he wasn't alone, he knew he would be okay.

Trying to remember what had happened, and why he felt so tired, he shifted his position. Clutching at his head he found a large bump and winced in pain.

"Raph?" his words were slow and slightly slurred. His memory felt foggy and his tongue had a strange taste, almost metallic, like iron, with tiny pin picks riding along its surface.

"Ra…Raphie...? You still...awake?" he asked, his mind feeling oddly clouded and he couldn't seem to concentrate. A thought would flutter around in his head like a frightened moth getting too close to the light before everything went dark, and the thought vanished without a trace.

Feeling along his brother's leg, he crawled closer to Raphael, his hand falling upon his brother's jacket covered plastron. He moved his hand further up until he found his brother's shoulder. Roughly he shook it. "Raphie," he murmured. "Don't...don't fall ashleep," he slurred, trying to wake his brother up.

He knew Raphael had been hurt, probably worse than he was admitting; which wouldn't be unusual for his hot-headed older brother, but still, Michelangelo was worried.

Deep down in the cotton-ball filled recesses of his fog laced mind, he knew that sleeping was a bad thing, which meant that no matter how much Raphael wanted to sleep, Michelangelo couldn't let him.

"Come on, Raphie, wake up," he insisted managing to shake his brother's shoulder harder, trying to rouse him. Frowning in confusion, he shook his brother yelling his name as panic managed to clear away a few of the cobwebs that had suffused his barely functioning brain.

"RAPH!" he shouted again, waiting for his brother to give some acknowledgement of his efforts. And getting none, he felt horror and terror skitter down his carapace. "NO!" he shouted in disbelief, shaking his head back and forth in disbelief. His brother couldn't be...

"WAKE UP!" he screamed, fear digging its icy claws into his heart and squeezing with brutal intent. "Y-you don't...you can't leave me alone," he told his brother tearfully as a twin trails of wetness trickled down his cold cheeks. "You can't give up! Donny and Leo are looking for us and they're gonna find us and get us out of here!" he insisted, giving his brother's unresponsive body another hard shake. "So you can't..." He choked on a sob, unable to finish his sentence. Swallowing, he tried again, pleading with his brother to open his eyes, to say something, to do anything other than just laying there like a broken doll.

"Please, Raphie. Please don't leave me," he begged wretchedly. "You don't get to die on me and leave me all alone!" he snapped suddenly angry. "You don't get to give up on me 'cause I'm not giving up on you, or Leo and Donny! We are getting out of this together!" he snarled vehemently, hoping that yelling at his brother would motivate him enough to wake him up.

The silence stretched forward, only the sounds of the wooden structure groaning above their heads breaking the deathly stillness that surrounded them.

Letting out a sob he buried his face into his brother's clothing covered plastron. "Please, please, please, Raphie," he repeated over and over again. He couldn't lose his older brother, he couldn't. Losing his older brother would mean losing a piece of his own heart, and he didn't think he would be able to bear that kind of pain.

"Raphie," he softly begged again, this word slurred and indistinct. "Don't leave me," he murmured.

Suddenly Raphael's arm slowly moved and Michelangelo felt it being placed over his carapace. "S'okay, Mikey. 'things gonna be...okay," Raphael promised, his voice rough but filled with promise.

Tears of relief stung Michelangelo's eyes and his throat closed up. Unable to speak for a moment he buried his face into his brother's chest even more. Raphael gave a grunt, though whether in pain or acknowledgement, Michelangelo wasn't sure, but he accepted this grunt as an affirmation that Raphael's words were true, and relaxed, feeling his eyes drift shut.

Realizing that he was falling into sleep, he tried to open his eyes, to fight against the lethargy that deftly wrapped its comforting tendrils around him, but found that the effort to do so was completely beyond him. He found himself oddly content, wrapped within his brother's warm comforting embrace.

Hope you all enjoyed! Only one more chapter after this one!