Chapter 1: Lost
Ten years ago their lives had changed forever, their world disrupted. And one of their own was lost.
"Raphael," said Master Splinter, his tone reverent, "I believe it is your turn."
Raph stood away from his sensei and brothers glaring out over the dark, rippling water of the Hudson and trying not to remember why they were here.
Ten years, he thought, clenching his fists. Ten damn years!
"I thought it was Donnie's turn," said Mikey, sounding distracted.
"Nope," said Donnie, "Leo did it last year; it's Raph's turn."
"Raph never does it."
She'd be twenty-one now, Raph realized, if she had—
"Raphael."
Raph started, head snapping around to see Master Splinter standing beside him. His sensei was looking up at him with understanding in his huge, dark eyes.
Without a word, he raised his hand, uncurling long, bony fingers to reveal a small white candle.
Raph's breath rushed out on an impatient exhale and he shook his head. "I ain't doin' it," he growled, looking out over the water again but not seeing anything.
Master Splinter set his other hand on his son's arm, waiting patiently until Raphael's eyes were once again directed at him.
The rare show of raw emotion he saw there tore at him.
With only the slightest pressure, Splinter turned the arm under his fingers and gently set the candle on his son's large, calloused palm.
Raph scowled at the offensive bit of wax in his hand.
"Raphael."
Raph raised his eyes to meet his father's.
"It is time."
Something was pulling at the edge of his hammock near his face.
Raph groaned, cracking open one bleary eye to see two silver eyes peering back at him.
"Raphie?" she whispered in a little voice, leaning up on tiptoes to prop her chin on the fingers gripping his hammock. "Are you 'wake?"
"'M now," he grumbled, turning his head into his pillow.
"Raphie?"
Raph huffed.
"I had a scary dream—can I sleep wit' you?"
"Go bother Leo," he groaned into his pillow.
"I can't," she whined. "He's still sick and he'll get his yucky boogers on me!"
Raph rolled his head to the side to frown at her. "Donnie, then."
She shook her head. "Donnie snores loud. Like this." Her face contorted in concentration as she made a few horrible snorting noises—which would have been funny if it wasn't so late!
"So do I," Raph growled.
But she was already climbing into the hammock, her elbow bumping his jaw as she settled herself. "No," she said, her voice sleepy as she curled up against him, "you purr."
Raph swallowed hard, his throat too small, eyes stinging.
Donnie held out a lighter with a small, reassuring smile, Leo and Mikey just behind him.
Heart pounding against his ribs, Raph looked down at the candle for a long moment—and nodded. He saw Splinter offer a kind smile then Donnie was lighting it for him. The little flame bounced and flickered on the wick, casting a low orange glow against the dark green of his palm. Kneeling, he lowered his hand toward the water.
Each year his sensei and brothers would say something: tell a story, share a memory, recall… something. But Raph said nothing as his hand sunk beneath the cool, dark water. They were all unusually silent as they watched the tiny candle slowly drift away.
I'm sorry, Raph thought, just as he did every year. I'm sorry.
"Move it, Mona!" Raph barked, helping Leo and Donnie with Master Yoshi.
There was glass everywhere, the fire a violent orange backdrop, roaring and hissing over the shouts and screams and gunfire.
He didn't know what was going on or why but for once he agreed with Leo; they needed to get out of there!
"This way!" shouted Leo, shuffling toward the nearest escape tunnel.
Mikey got there first, frantically pulling at the panel and peeking inside. "C-clear!"
"Mona!" Raph snapped, trying to wedge himself and Master Yoshi through the passage without dropping him.
"The m-major structure supports are losing integrity," gasped Donnie, nervously eyeing the ceiling.
Completely underground, the compound they had come to call "The Lab" was collapsing around them. As if to prove it, the cement above their heads cracked with a horrible, heart-stopping sound, dust and debris sifting through.
"Run!" said Leo.
And they did, their unconscious sensei jostled between the four of them as the ceiling gave way and the tunnel behind them buckled.
Coughing and gritty with dirt, Raph heard Leo ask if everyone was all right; he grunted.
"Affirmative," said Donnie, sounding dazed.
"Yeah," groaned Mikey.
Silence.
Raph's heart dropped into his gut. "Mona?"
No response.
"Mona, if you're messin' with me!" Raph shouted.
Nothing.
Raph heard frantic movement and suddenly there was a long sliver of light through the clouds of dust floating around them. Following the light he saw Donnie holding a penlight, eyes-wide as he pointed it behind them.
Huge blocks of concrete blocked the way.
Raph stumbled up the slight incline. No, no, no, he thought desperately. "No," he choked aloud, grabbing a rock at random and pulling. "Mona!"
The ceiling groaned again.
"Raph!"
They found 'er! was his first thought as he whirled around.
But there was no Mona. Just an unconscious Master Yoshi, a sobbing Mikey, a shaking Donnie, and Leo, blue eyes wide and haunted and… resolute.
The cement above them cracked and Leo stooped, lifting Master Yoshi beneath the armpit and dragging him further down the tunnel. Donnie and Mikey jumped in to help, shocked and sniffling.
Breathing hard, Raph shook his head. "I ain't leavin' her here, Leo!" he raged, his voice cracking.
Leo looked up, his dust-covered cheeks tear-streaked. "She's already gone, Raph."
Raph woke with a start, breathing hard, muscles tense. He could still smell the fire and dust and fear.
Swinging his legs off the mattress he'd tossed onto a handful of old truck tires, he propped his elbows on his knees and closed his eyes.
She was sitting too close to the TV again, her nose nearly touching the screen as she stared at the muted images of another travel documentary.
"Yer gonna end up needin' glasses like Donnie if you keep sittin' that close," Raph grumbled, reaching under her arms and dragging her back a few feet.
She didn't fight him off or argue; the whole scenario was old hat at this point: she'd sit too close, they'd drag her back. She probably did it on purpose!
Brat.
"Ain't you s'posed to be in bed?"
She just itched her nose.
Rolling his eyes, Raph sighed and settled himself beside her on the floor.
"D'you think they'll ever let us outta here?" she asked him after a moment, looking up at him.
Raph shrugged, leaning back on his hands. "Dunno. We ain't exactly the Brady Bunch."
She snorted, turning back to the screen. "So, would you be Marcia?"
Scowling, Raph pinched her tail and she squeaked.
They watched the landscapes on the TV change from lush, South American rain forests to the urban concrete of New York City in companionable silence before she spoke again, her voice small and quiet, "I don't wanna stay here forever."
Raph frowned. "Yeah," he whispered, "me neither."
Running a hand over his head, Raph got up, mechanically making his way to the dojo.
It was always like this! he thought an hour later, frustration and rage propelling his fists even harder into the punching bag. Every damn year since that night, they gathered under the docks to light a candle and set it adrift in her memory.
To honor her? Remember?
Raph hit the punching bag again.
Raph had refused each year it was his turn, not because he didn't miss her—
Breathing hard, he pressed his forehead to the cracked leather of the bag and closed his eyes.
Raph had refused each year because lighting that stupid candle and watching it float away was like accepting she was really lost.
© Nickelodeon