A/N: So, so sorry for not updating. Life's been crazy. I hope you can forgive me.
Disclaimer: see chapter one
"We're losing him!"
Donatello's cry broke Leonardo out of his trance. He blinked back to reality and shook his head to clear his senses. The machines were still going crazy and Donatello was doing everything he could think of to stabilize Raphael; but no matter what he did, it seemed Raphael just slipped further away. Leonardo swallowed hard as an option came to him. If he could reach his brother's subconscious, maybe there was a way to pull him back; after all, he did it before, why couldn't he do it again? Leonardo turned and headed for the door. Michelangelo and Donatello looked up when they saw their brother leave.
"Where are you going?" Michelangelo asked.
Leonardo looked over his shoulder. "You guys keep working on Raph, I'll be right back."
"What are you going to do?" Michelangelo wanted to know.
"I'm going to help Raph," Leonardo replied.
He turned to leave but was stopped when someone grabbed his arm. Leonardo turned around to find Donatello glaring at him; his brown eyes hard.
"You're going to do it again, aren't you?" Donatello asked.
Michelangelo frowned in confusion. "Do what again?"
"Donnie..." Leonardo began.
"It almost killed you last time," Donatello cut in, his voice sharp.
"Raph doesn't have a lot of time, Don," Leonardo said, all too aware of the blaring alarms from the machines.
Donatello's eyes became hard and determined and Leonardo felt himself grow nervous about what was about to come out of his brother's mouth.
"Then you'd better teach fast," the brother in purple said through clenched teeth.
Michelangelo's eyes widened when he finally understood what was happening. "You were going into Raph's subconscious again, weren't you?"
"We really don't have time for this," Leonardo told his brothers.
"Donnie's right, you'd better teach fast," Michelangelo said.
"Guys-"
"We're coming, too," Michelangelo interrupted, coming to stand beside Donatello.
Leonardo looked from one brother to the other, trying to figure out a way to keep them from doing the meditation. "It's too dangerous," he finally said.
Donatello's grip tightened around Leonardo's arm to the point that it was beginning to hurt. "Raph would do the same for us," Donatello whispered.
Leonardo felt his resolve break with that statement. He sighed in resignation and led his brothers back over to the bed. They took positions around the bed; Leonardo on the right, Donatello on the left and Michelangelo at the foot of the bed. They all closed their eyes and blocked out everything except for each other's breathing. The sound of the machines became a dull hum in the background as the world began to fall away.
"Reach out with your mind and soul," Leonardo spoke softly so he wouldn't disturb his brothers. "Find Raph's conscience and grasp on to it. We'll be separated for a short while, but don't worry, Raph will lead you to where you have to go."
Michelangelo felt a strange sensation wash over him, as if his spirit had separated from his body. All he could feel and see was darkness on all sides of him, he couldn't hear his brother's breathing or the alarms from the machines anymore. Just when he thought he might have made a mistake and had gotten the meditation wrong, a red sliver of light pierced the darkness in front of him. Michelangelo let out a breath when he felt a pure, unholy rage slam into him. He felt like taking a step back, but he knew he would get slammed back into his body if he did, so he forced himself to step forward towards the light. The closer he got to the light, the stronger the anger and the brighter the light became. Soon, he was just one step away from the light; and it was blinding.
"Well, dudes, see you on the other side," Michelangelo said before stepping fully into the light.
When he came out the other side, Michelangelo did a double take. He was back in the lair. Michelangelo looked around, startled. Did he mess up? Meditation had never been his thing. However, something felt off about this lair. For one thing, where were Donatello and Leonardo? And how did he get in the middle of the lair when he had been in the infirmary?
"Raph?" Michelangelo called, his voice echoing unnaturally through the empty lair. "Raphael? Raphie?"
"I heard you the first time!" his hot-headed brother yelled, making Michelangelo cry out and jump.
Raphael emerged from his room, looking even more grouchy than he usually did. Michelangelo swallowed hard when he saw his red masked brother. So, this was part of Raphael's conscience.
Why did I have to get stuck with the mean part? Michelangelo wondered.
"What do you want, Mikey?" Raphael demanded.
"Help?" Michelangelo squeaked.
Raphael glared at him. "Help with what?"
Michelangelo swallowed down his fear and straightened up, making himself look more confident. "I need your help," he said.
"That doesn't answer the question," Raphael growled. "What help?"
"Help getting into your head...although I'm pretty sure I don't want to go there," Michelangelo replied.
Raphael's glare turned into a frown. "Getting into my head?" he repeated. "Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds?"
Michelangelo thought about what he had just said and tapped his fingers together. "I guess when it's said out loud it does sound a bit silly," the youngest admitted. He looked around the main area of the lair. "But then again...I guess we kinda already are inside your head."
"What are you talking about?" Raphael asked. "You're not making any sense. Not that you do anyway."
"Hey!" Michelangelo protested. "I do so make sense."
Raphael nodded. "Uh huh. You're the one who just told me we're inside my head. Think about that, genius."
He turned to walk back to his room. Michelangelo rushed forward, suddenly terrified of losing his brother. He took the stairs two at a time.
"Raphie, wait!"
"What now?" Raphael growled. "I'm in the middle of somethin'."
"Yeah, in the middle of dying," Michelangelo said as he hit the top floor. "We have to go."
Raphael gave his brother a deadpan look. "Are you hearing yourself?" he asked.
"I'm serious, Raph," Michelangelo said.
"I am, too. Leave me alone."
Raphael walked into his room and was about to slam the door when Michelangelo threw himself into the room, colliding with Raphael and sending them both to the ground. If he lost sight of his brother, Michelangelo was sure he would lose the fragment of Raphael's conscience. The youngest grunted when Raphael threw him to the ground. He looked up to see his brother towering over him, a look of pure murder blazing in his amber eyes.
"What's wrong with you?" Raphael shouted.
"Me? What's wrong with you?" Michelangelo asked back. "You're acting like an even bigger jerk than usual. What's your deal?"
"I want to be left alone," Raphael said. "Can't you get that through that thick skull of yours?"
Michelangelo got to his feet and looked his brother in the eye. What was wrong with his brother? This was the side of Raphael that he never wanted to see; that he refused to see. The side of his beloved brother that was always angry, always in a rage. It was the Hulk side of Raphael; the side that only came out when he was in extreme pain.
It was then that Michelangelo noticed the forming lacerations on his brother's body and he understood; Raphael was a wounded animal and he wanted to crawl into a dark corner to die. Michelangelo looked up to stare into Raphael's eyes and the loathing he saw there made him sick. Raphael took a couple of steps forward until he was inches away from Michelangelo's face.
"Get this through your head," he hissed. "I don't want you here. I never wanted you."
Michelangelo shook his head. "I don't believe that," he said. "I know you, Raph. You would rather die than to let harm come to any one of us."
Raphael scoffed and turned away. Michelangelo stayed where he stood, but he kept his eyes on his brother. Raphael placed a hand over the front of his right shoulder, tracing something with his fingers.
"What's happened to you, Raphie?" Michelangelo whispered.
"Life happened," Raphael replied stiffly. "I hurt you and Leo and...well..." He looked down at his battered body. "Karma's got a nasty way of biting you in the shell."
Michelangelo swallowed thickly and his hand went to his throat. "It wasn't your fault, Raph."
"No?" Raphael asked skeptically. "Whose fault was it then?" He turned to look at his baby brother. "Who held the blade that pierced Leo's shoulder? That sliced your throat?" When Michelangelo didn't answer he went on, "Don't say that it's not my fault when I've been trying to wash your blood off of my hands."
Michelangelo looked down at the floor and Raphael turned away again, his back facing his brother. The brothers stood in silence for what seemed like an eternity and Michelangelo knew he didn't have much time to get through to Raphael and get to wherever his spirit was. He glanced over at his brother and did the only thing he knew how to do. He walked over to Raphael and threw his arms around his brother. Raphael stiffened under the embrace, but Michelangelo tightened his grip. He buried his face in Raphael's neck as tears began to burn his eyes.
"I never blamed you, Raph," Michelangelo sobbed. "You would never intentionally hurt us. We scared you. It was our fault for what happened, not yours."
"Mikey-"
Tears streamed down Michelangelo's face to splash down on Raphael's neck. "I'm so sorry you had to suffer for our mistake. No one deserves what Travis did, especially not you."
Raphael could feel his eyes start to burn with tears. "Please, stop," he whispered.
"No, Raph. You need to hear this," Michelangelo said. "I know you put on the tough guy act to hide your real feelings. You become angry when you're hurt or sad. Like now. And you have every reason to be angry. We didn't come after you when you ran off. We made you feel horrible. But, you're not horrible, Raphie. You're the most loving and caring person I have ever known."
Raphael squeezed his eyes tight against the burning tears that streamed down his face. He hung his head as his body began to tremble.
"You're my hero, Raph," Michelangelo continued. "Who else got up at all hours of the night to check to make sure there were no monsters under my bed? Who made sure that the closet was clear of all signs of the boogie-man?" A small smile crept across Michelangelo's face. "Who could probably give the boogie-man a run for his money in a dark alley?"
Raphael couldn't help but chuckle at that last comment. He wiped his eyes and took a shaky, calming breath.
"Help me save you, Raph," Michelangelo whispered. "Help me make us a family again."
The room began to fill with a gentle white light. Michelangelo took a step back away from Raphael when he saw his brother glowing. Raphael turned around to look at his baby brother. He looked tired and worn, as if he had just come back from a difficult battle.
"Please be careful, Mike," Raphael said quietly. "It's not safe. Death is everywhere and it will not let you pass so easily."
Michelangelo swallowed but nodded in understanding. His eyes became determined. "Well, Death doesn't know us very well," he replied. "We turtles are a stubborn bunch."
Raphael smiled as the glow intensified around his body. "That we are," he agreed.
Michelangelo shielded his eyes against the blinding light. When he looked up again a light orb floated where Raphael had once stood. Michelangelo walked over to the orb and plucked it out of the air. He held it close to his chest and closed his eyes. The air around him shifted and when Michelangelo opened his eyes again he was standing in a dark forest instead of Raphael's room. He looked around until he felt the orb grow warm against his chest. Michelangelo pulled out a nunchuck and started down the path; all too aware of the many eyes that were watching him.
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