A/N: Thanks to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for me. And thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed thus far. Glad you're all enjoying the story.

Disclaimer: see chapter one

Ash roughly let go of his arm before she stood up and walked out of the chamber. Raphael could hear her breath hitch as her emotions got the better of her again. He stood by what he had said; he wasn't sorry for what he had done, not to Alfredson at least, not anymore. The only thing that mattered was that his brothers were safe, from Alfredson and from himself. Raphael gazed up at the large glass cylinder he was in. What was it with the Alfredsons and glass containers? He closed his eyes and tried to move, but his body was still unresponsive.

"Time for you to see the real Grim Reaper," Ash hissed with a sadistic smile.

Hun closed the heavy metal door with a bang before turning the wheel. Raphael coolly watched as the three humans walked away, with Travis putting his arm around Ash's shoulders as she leaned into his comforting embrace. The warehouse door closed with a resounding thud and the room was cast into pitch darkness. Raphael lay on his side in the cold glass chamber, his mind wandering and trying to figure out what kind of gruesome end Ash and Travis had planned for him. Would it be death by poisonous gas? Death by drowning? Or will the container fill with acid and slowly dissolve his flesh? Raphael shook his head, trying to rid himself of his dark ruminations. Sighing he closed his eyes tiredly. Again he tried to move but the signal from his brain to his body seemed to be cut off somewhere in between.

Raphael weakly opened his eyes again and blinked in surprise, then horror when he saw Alfredson standing outside the glass door. The man didn't say anything, just stood there watching him with a gleeful smirk. Raphael had thought the hallucinogenic drug had passed through his system hours ago.

Apparently not, he thought bitterly.

Then, Alfredson did something that made Raphael really confused; he acted as though he was using a vacuum cleaner, then he began choking...or at least pretended to be choking. Or was he really gasping? Whatever he was doing it was starting to freak him out. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of watching Alfredson pretend to choke or gasp or whatever the heck he was doing, the serial killer suddenly stopped and waved goodbye before he distorted and vanished into thin air before Raphael's eyes.

"Okay," Raphael said slowly, completely disturbed.

He took a deep calming breath and let it out again slowly. He did that a few more times until he realized the air felt thinner than it had been before; thinner and more stale. Raphael looked around the chamber until his eyes fell upon a strange mechanism attached to the side of the cylinder. Two pipes were connected to the top of the chamber which were then connected to a large metal box. Raphael's heart sank into the pit of his stomach when he realized what he was in; the dark meaning behind Alfredson's actions finally made sense.

He was in a vacuum chamber.

Leonardo pulled up to the desired warehouse and turned off the van's engine. He opened the door and jumped out, slamming the door closed again. He dashed to the warehouse door and hit the button to open it. The door slid up and in, allowing Leonardo access inside the dark warehouse. The turtle in blue ran inside and looked around fearfully. His heart sank with despair and grief.

There was no sign of his red masked brother.

The warehouse was filled with rusting equipment and scrap metal. Leonardo took several breaths as he felt himself begin to hyperventilate.

In, out. In, out. That's how to breathe, right? Leonardo asked himself. Breathe in, breathe out.

He leaned forward, his hands propped up against his knees for support. He gasped for air as though he were drowning. And in a way, he was. He was drowning in despair and anguish. How could this be another dead end? How could he be grasping at smoke all night? He was always one step behind...and he hated it. He was failing his brother. Leonardo looked up at the junk filled room and he sank to his knees as his chest continued to heave with heavy gasps. He wanted to scream in frustration; he could feel it rising in his throat.

This can't be happening. Not when I'm so close, Leonardo thought.

"Bring Raph home."

It hadn't been a statement; it had been a plea. Donatello wanted Raphael home just as much as Leonardo did. A pathetic whimper escaped Leonardo's throat as he hung his head in anguish.

"Raph, where are you?" Leonardo asked the cluttered room.

Michelangelo woke up to the sound of someone sobbing. His eyes slowly flickered open and he glanced around the room until his gaze fell on the hunched over form of Donatello who was sitting in a nearby chair. Frowning slightly, Michelangelo shifted on the cot, wincing as the IV lines pulled in his hand. He managed to sit up just enough to see that Donatello was clutching his shell cell in one hand and had the other over his eyes.

"Donnie?" Michelangelo whispered hoarsely in fear.

Donatello slowly looked up, his eyes bloodshot and his mask a darker shade of purple from the tears he was shedding. Michelangelo's heart clenched when he saw the state his brother was in. He swallowed nervously.

"Donnie, what's wrong?" Michelangelo questioned in trepidation.

Donatello looked away, unable to hold his baby brother's innocent gaze. He had to tell him; he couldn't keep it a secret any longer. Michelangelo was going to find out sooner or later anyways. Wiping the tears from his eyes, Donatello managed to get control over his emotions long enough to speak.

"It's Raph," he started solemnly.

Michelangelo felt his heart begin to pound against his ribs. "What about Raph? Is he okay?"

Donatello slowly shook his head. "He's..."

"He's what, Donnie?" Michelangelo asked anxiously. "What's wrong with Raph? He's not hurt is he?" Michelangelo asked as he franticly looked around the room for his older sibling and breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't see him.

Donatello's breath hitched in his throat and he broke down into uncontrollable sobs again. Michelangelo could only fear the worst.

"Raph's not at Casey's...is he?" the youngest inquired softly.

All Donatello could do was shake his head. Michelangelo took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

"Do you know where he is?" he asked quietly.

Another shake of the head. Hot anger began to burn through Michelangelo's veins. Raphael was missing and no one said anything to him? Michelangelo swallowed down the bile that rose up in his throat.

"How long has he been missing?" he asked heatedly.

Donatello held up a hand, causing Michelangelo to frown in confusion.

"Three? Three days?" he retorted angrily in disbelief.

Donatello nodded miserably. Michelangelo felt his heart plummet into the pit of his stomach as his world shattered into tiny, irreplaceable fragments. His breath hitched and he had to fight to keep from breaking down. Though tears began to burn his eyes, they were tears of anger. Why didn't anyone tell him sooner?

"Raph's been missing for three days...and you didn't tell me?" Michelangelo asked incredulously. "Why?"

"We didn't want...we didn't want to worry you," Donatello replied softly, his voice breaking with emotion. "You needed to rest and heal."

"I have a right to know what is going on with my brothers, Don," Michelangelo said sharply. "You should have told me." He looked at the shell cell still clenched in Donatello's hand. "What did Leo say?" he asked.

Donatello took a calming breath and let it out slowly. "The lead I gave him turned out to be a dead end."

"Did he try the Purple Dragons and the Foot?" Michelangelo wanted to know.

Donatello nodded. "Dead ends," he answered. "They're not talking."

"April and Casey?" Michelangelo asked.

"They haven't seen him either," Donatello replied.

"Do you know anything?" Michelangelo questioned harshly.

Donatello flinched as though he had been physically struck. Michelangelo had a right to be angry. Important information had been withheld from him. Everyone knew Michelangelo looked up to Raphael, even as an adult. Raphael and Michelangelo had a special relationship, even though it didn't show. Raphael was always on the receiving end of one Michelangelo's practical jokes and he always threatened to pound his brother to a pulp for it, but Michelangelo was also the brother that Raphael protected with his life. He was the big brother and Michelangelo was the baby brother. Ever since they were kids, Raphael had always had a soft spot for the carefree jokester, and Michelangelo had always seen Raphael as the heroic big brother that would always chase away the monsters that lurked under the bed; and the feelings carried over into adulthood.

So for Michelangelo to hear that Raphael- his hero- was missing, it was like a lance through his heart. The youngest felt his lower lip begin to quiver as tears threatened to overflow. Why wasn't he trusted with the truth? Thinking on it, he probably would have done something stupid and gotten himself into trouble when he needed to rest and heal. Michelangelo put a hand to his bandaged throat and his breath hitched in his chest.

"We have to find Raph, Donnie," he whispered as tears began to spill from his eyes. "He has to know this wasn't his fault."

Raphael growled as he tried to force his body to move, however he was met with the same result as the other times he tried. He eventually gave up and tried to regulate his breathing. He was taking up too much oxygen, from what little remained inside the container. The air grew thinner with each passing second. Raphael closed his eyes as he slowed his breathing down to a crawl. He knew he was just delaying the inevitable. He was sealed inside a vacuum chamber that was locked from the outside; unless someone came around and opened the door he was as good as dead.

Not that he cared. He was ready to face the Grim Reaper; face eternity. It wouldn't be so bad. His brothers would be safe from the monster that lurked within him. He wouldn't be surprised if no one was looking for him; he had killed Leonardo and Michelangelo in cold blood, and Donatello would never forgive him for that.

Raphael coughed as he began choking on his own breath. The air was too thin, now. He was running out of air too quickly. Raphael stopped coughing and lay there gasping.

"I'm sorry, guys," he whispered hoarsely. "I'm sorry I didn't stay. I'm so sorry I killed you guys, I didn't mean to. Leo...Mikey..." Tears began burning his eyes and he squeezed his eyes tight against them. "Donnie, I'm so, so sorry." His breath hitched as he was overcome by emotion. "I'm sorry I left you alone, Don."

The room was filled with the sound of someone entering the warehouse. It was probably Ash or Travis coming back to see if he had expired yet. Raphael vaguely heard his name being called but it was too late. He slowly opened his eyes to see a green and blue blur running up to the chamber before his eyes slid closed for the final time; a single tear falling down his cheek to land on his chest.

The shade of his murdered brother had come to greet his murderer in death.

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