**This Story Contains Tcest**
Pairings: Raphael/Donatello, Leonardo/Michelangelo, Raphael/Michelangelo, Michelangelo/Donatello, Leonardo/Donatello
Info: Alternate Universe, Royalty, Elemental Magic, Action/Adventure, Romance

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Chapter Eighteen: The Trial of Fire

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Raphael knew his trial was next. There hadn't been any clues or signs to make him so sure of it, but he knew it all the same. The forest was unchanged from when they left the swamp behind the day before. The same endless trees, the same warm light filtered through the thick canopy of leaves above their heads, the same incessant noise of both birds and Fay. But underneath all of that there was... something else now, a strange buzzing in his ears, a low vibration in his back teeth, and he'd been on edge for hours because of it.

The endless walking was starting to grate on his nerves as well, but he knew the travel was part of the challenge, so he was trying his best to ignore the ache in his feet. The trials were meant to be a test, not just of their skills, but of the strength of their relationship as a whole. If anything proved that it was the echoes.

The damned echoes.

Raph shook his head, swallowing back the frustration he felt about how this was all playing out. It was obvious there was far more going on than any of them had expected. It felt like the elemental spirits were taunting them, playing with them, instead of guiding them into the next stage of their lives. But they were still missing a piece of the puzzle and he just hadn't figured out how to connect the dots yet.

Donatello seemed to be bearing the brunt of it. The echoes clearly drained him, though Raph wasn't sure if Don was aware of it or not. If he was, he wasn't acknowledging it, but Raph was starting to worry that the strain was going to leave a permanent scar. Almost as if the water was taking its own toll whenever Don drew upon it, and each time he pulled another echo, the magic took a piece of him that it didn't give back.

Raph kicked a rock that lay in his path and glanced over his shoulder, looking back twenty or thirty paces at where Donatello walked next to Leonardo, their heads bent together in conversation. Maybe he was reading too much into it. Maybe he wanted to blame the magic because he didn't know what else he could do to help Don, other than just be a shoulder for him to lean on. Which was something he would do, of course. Without hesitation. Raphael would give of himself anything that Don needed from him. He just wished he didn't feel so damn useless about it all the time.

Michelangelo slid up against his side, a faraway look in his eyes as he wrapped himself around the fire prince's arm and threaded their fingers together. Raphael looked down at him fondly, and they walked like that for a few more paces, until Mikey sighed and laid his head down on Raph's shoulder.

"What's up, pipsqueak?" Raph questioned.

"Hm?"

"You've got that look on your face."

"What look?" Mikey asked with a confused pout as he rolled his head up to look at him.

"That look. The one ya' get when you're thinkin' too hard."

Mikey considered that, and then sighed again. "I guess... I'm just worried."

"Worried about what?"

"Do you think..." Mikey frowned as he carefully chose his words, "do you think Donnie's thought about what happens after?"

"After...?" Raph prompted when the earth prince didn't explain further.

"After he gets the answers he's looking for." Michelangelo said impatiently, crinkling his nose in distress as he struggled to get his point across. "If we get to the end of this, and the echoes show us the truth, the real truth, do you think he's thought about what he'll do? I mean... we won't know until we see it, but I think it's kinda obvious what probably happened."

Unease tickled at the back of Raph's mind as he realized Mikey was getting at something he had been mulishly ignoring himself because of the implications.

"What are we supposed to do?" Mikey continued in a quiet voice. "Our fathers will be there when we get to the temple."

Oh. Raph returned his attention to the path they were following and tried to gather his thoughts. Regardless of the truth, and whatever it turned out to be, a confrontation was inevitable. With Apelles, if nothing else.

Raph squeezed Mikey's hand in reassurance. "Whatever we do, we do it together. As a united front. Like we always have."

"It might not be that easy." Mikey huffed with annoyance. "What about our fathers, Raph? Yours and mine. I think, at the very least, they're complicit in what happened here."

Raph shot Michelangelo a startled look. The earth prince rarely broke out the big words unless he was really upset about something. He had to admit that Mikey was right, though. A part of him flat out refused to believe that his father could have had anything to do with what happened to Archus, and the signs were still pointing in that direction, but considering everything they had already learned, he knew it would be downright foolish to pretend the possibility didn't exist.

As much as he didn't want Donatello to risk pulling any more echoes, the truth was they were long since in too deep, and there was no turning back now, however unpleasant the results might be.

"I didn't say it was gonna be easy, Mikey," Raph finally replied, "we don't know enough yet, but I promise ya', we won't walk into that place without a plan."

Michelangelo looked up at him with relief shining in his eyes. Maybe it wasn't the final solution he'd been looking for, but it was enough to relieve at least some of his uncertainty. The earth prince opened his mouth to speak, but his response, whatever it might have been, was lost as they came up over the crest of a hill and the trees disappeared.

As if they had stepped from one plain of existence into another, an expanse of death stretched out before them, from the edge of the tree line to the base of a massive wall of cliffs, charred and smoking and... silent. The stumps of blackened trees smoldered throughout the wasteland, sending out miserable hisses into the air that mixed with the low wind to create a whispering rush of sound that had every single one of Raphael's hackles raised in an instant. High above their heads a thick layer of misty clouds blocked the sun, allowing only the weakest rays of light to pass through. The muddy orange glow of it weighed down on them like a physical force.

Directly in front of them, the obsidian pillar stood like a monolith in the emptiness. On its top an apple sized ruby glowed dull red and ominous. The words underneath the gemstone blazed as if lit with flame from within.

~ The Trial of Fire ~

Leonardo scanned the distant cliffs with a look of grim determination. "I see an opening in the rock, halfway up the side. Looks like the trail will take us into the mountains."

The second obsidian pillar could just be seen near the trailhead, camouflaged by the low light and dark rock.

"Welp," Mikey hummed, barely masking his unease, "the only way up is through."

Raphael stepped forward and glared down at the stone in the pillar, his heart pounding rapidly as he tried to force himself to move, to just touch the damned rock and get it over with, but a sudden, crushing doubt made him hesitate as it stole the breath from his lungs. He'd never felt so helpless, knowing the other three would be left to find their own way to the other side while he was distracted by the elemental spirit. How was he supposed to focus on completing his trial when he knew they would be in danger during every second of it?

He blinked as Donatello appeared at his elbow and the water prince reached up to touch his face, turning his head until everything but the two of them faded away. As Raphael stared down into his warm, dark eyes, sour fear churned in his gut. He thought of everything they had already been through, of the dangers they had faced, of all the ways he wouldn't be able to protect Don from harm once he started this thing and he shuddered in denial of it. If something happened to Donatello now... he would never forgive himself.

No. Not gonna happen. This was his trial, and he was in control of it.

Donatello smiled at him, softly, his thumb grazing Raph's cheek, like he knew exactly what the prince of fire was thinking without a word needing to be said. "You've got this," he whispered so only they could hear, "it's going to be fine."

A deep, resonating certainty fell over Raphael then like the weight of a heavy blanket. Deep down in the dusty back corners of his heart he knew that what he felt for Donatello was different than what he felt for the others. It was deeper and richer, not good or bad or more or less, but not the same. Of course, he loved Mikey, and he loved Leo, and he loved what the four of them were going to build together, but he wasn't drawn to them in the same way that he was drawn to the prince of water. From the very beginning he had been compelled to always seek out Don's warmth, his pulse, like a balm on his blistered soul.

He would keep Donatello safe by completing his trial in record time, by forcing the beast to focus on him to the exclusion of all else. He would do that or die trying.

Raph pulled the water prince in until their bodies were flush and pressed their foreheads together. "Make straight for the other side," he said in a rough voice, "don't stop, don't get distracted, don't take risks."

Don's hand flexed against his cheek as he nodded, closing his eyes and pushing his face against Raph's, conveying his agreement and reassurance and determination in that one simple gesture.

Refusing to let go until he was sure the water prince understood, Raphael reached up and curled his fingers around the back of Don's neck, holding him tightly in place, "Promise me." he rasped.

"Yes," Don answered with a shaky breath. "I promise."

That was enough. It would have to be.

With magic pulsing in his veins, scorching a path under his skin, Raphael turned, snarled through his teeth, and slammed his hand down onto the ruby. He felt the change in his body instantly, felt the power saturate every cell in his body. The jewel came up out of the pillar as he raised his arm, and when Raph opened his eyes, he grinned with all of his teeth, feral and manic.

Seeing through the white was a revelation, every detail sharply enhanced. He saw the char flaking off stones on the ground, saw the fluid lines of wispy smoke rising from hollowed out tree stumps. He felt invigorated. Ruthless.

The ruby flashed as it hung in the air, blood red, seeping magic like a river of oozing magma, and he held his breath as he watched it spin above his palm, entranced by the light that flickered deep within the stone.

The others were close, grouped together somewhere off his right shoulder. He felt their strength, and their anticipation. He remembered how Don and Mikey had quickly flung their stones away from them to start their trials, the jewels being the catalyst to call forth the spirits. But he felt no such compulsion to do the same. No, somehow, he knew he was meant to hold this gem... to wait... for some other sign.

A guttural, gurgling croak pulled his attention away from the pillar and out to the empty wasteland where he witnessed a sea of black eyes, sharp beaks, and shining ebony wings fluttering in the dead air. Ravens. Dozens upon dozens. The birds stared at Raphael and his lip twisted in challenge. There was not a single noise in the quiet, save for the rustle of their stygian feathers.

Time stretched, straining as it pulled, and Raph braced himself for the snap when the closest raven hopped forward, another guttural croak rending the silence as it rapidly snapped its beak with a loud knocking noise. It tilted its tiny head, then it took to the air, suddenly, nothing but a blur of black as it swooped up and snagged the gemstone in its curled talons.

Raphael gave chase, following the bird into the throng of its companions. A chorus of shrill, squawking cries filled his ears, and he waited for the sting of their tearing claws, but the birds kept their distance, so he ignored them, his focus locked on the raven with the ruby.

The bird circled over the center of the open field once, then without warning it opened its talons. The gem plummeted toward the ground, a red streak in a sea of black and grey. Raphael surged forward, thinking to catch it before it struck the earth, but he wasn't close enough. Just before it reached the ground, the gemstone exploded in a rain of light and flame, searing heat and a flash of white so pure it burned his retinas.

He skidded to a stop, his arm flying up to shield his eyes against the blinding light, and almost lost his footing as he slid in the blackened soot that billowed around him. When the brightness faded and he was finally able to see once more, he blinked in confusion.

The world had gone to dust. —Wait. No. Not dust... smoke.

Flaming remnants of the gem's explosion burned, not only on what was left of the surrounding tree stumps, but from the very earth itself, randomly shooting up from the ground like pyroclastic geysers. All light had fled, only the fire provided an ethereal glow that barely cut through the dark, illuminating no more than a foot or two beyond the end of his fingers.

Raphael held his breath and his ground, listening carefully for the smallest sound, but the crackle of the burning fires was all he could hear. This wasn't starting the same as the other trials had, and he had the distant thought that he should probably be more worried about that, but quickly decided that would be a waste of effort. There was nothing he could do about it. It was just different.

His stomach dropped as he realized his sense of direction was shot, and he had no idea where he had come from or where the others were. He opened his mouth to yell for them... then he saw something move in the distance. Slowly slipping out of the dark, a figure emerged from the smoke.

It was large, larger than he was, but not as large as he had expected it to be, not anywhere near as large as the other spirits had been. The smoke obscured details, and he narrowed his eyes with the effort it took to see through the haze. He could just make out a mostly equine shape, black as night. The creature was thin, emaciated, all sharp angles and bone that threatened to break through paper thin skin. Its flanks and withers shimmered with licks of flame, and where the tail should have been a long, curling funnel of fire twisted away, disappearing into the smoke. It pawed at the ground with hooves of shining ebony, broken and cracked and oozing some unknown decay.

Where the body of the beast conjured images of what might once have been a horse, what was perched where the head should have been was anything but. Vaguely human shaped, Raph could just make out a torso and arms, textured like burnt wood, smoldering from the inside out with flickering embers of orange and deep red. Its arms were long and spindled, ending with hands of jet-black, sickle like claws, wicked and terrifying. Flames danced on shoulders and elbows and wrists.

The head was nothing but bone, bleached white and cracked, its eyes empty black sockets that sucked in light and devoured it. Perched at the crown of its skull, branching up and away from the face, giant antlers curled skyward with jagged spikes that sparked and spit fire. And directly between them, slotted into the skull where it caught the light of those tiny explosions, the ruby glowed and beckoned to him.

Raphael bared his teeth and reached for his sai, but the spirit did not move to engage him. They stared each other down until the prince of fire was coiled as tightly as a spring, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, waiting for the opportunity to make the first move.

It didn't come. Not moving from where it stood, the creature only raised its arm, pointing with one curved claw at a point somewhere to the right of where Raph was standing.

Not about to fall for the bait but curious all the same, Raph turned his head, only enough to look in the direction it was pointing while keeping sight of the beast at the periphery of his vision. The smoke billowed and shifted, roiling in a way that turned his stomach, and revealed two prone figures splayed on the ground, limbs twisted and deathly still. A light, weak and low, caught the colors of bright orange and blue cloth wrapped around green faces.

"Fuck..." Raphael hissed; the spirit forgotten as he bolted forward into the murky dark.

As he closed the distance between himself and the bodies on the ground, details began to clarify. Sea and leaf green, blue and orange fabric, splattered with shining red, dripping, oozing from countless slashes and cuts. Their eyes were closed and there wasn't a single hint of breath or movement to indicate that life remained.

Raphael's vision blurred as he ran. Snarling, he blinked back the searing hot tears, refusing to give in, not yet, not until he was sure. A scream threatened to send him to his knees, but then the raven reappeared, crossing his line of sight as it swooped low. Raph pulled away, ducking to the right just as the bird lashed out with an ebony claw, not quite missing his face. He felt the burn of a cut on his cheek and the drip of blood on his skin.

Wild, manic and dazed, he spun back... and jerked to a stop.

Donatello stood over where Michelangelo and Leonardo lay, his back turned. Raph stumbled forward a step, "Donnie?" he choked out, his voice strained.

Slowly, the prince of water turned, his face a neutral mask but for his eyes that glowed in the low light. He twirled a dagger against his palm. The blade glittered, wet and red.

For a second Raphael didn't know how to react, he blinked and shook his head, eyes flicking down and back up again, refusing to accept what was right in front of him. "Donnie? What's happening?"

"A reckoning." Donatello replied, a bemused smirk on his face. "Everything is going exactly as planned."

"Wha— planned?"

"Yes. Planned." Donatello drawled, the words dripping disdain, like it should have been obvious what he meant. When Raph only blinked at him, his eyes widened, and he smiled with delight. "Oh! Oh... you poor, sweet idiot. Did you think...?"

Donatello's words trailed off as he started to laugh, full bellied and bright. Raph scowled at him, rage finally breaking through the shock.

"What the fuck, Don? What the— what the fuck?!"

"You truly believed I was in love with you, didn't you?" Donatello's smile disappeared, twisted into a disgusted sneer. "Fool. You are nothing more than a means to an end, Prince of Fire. A tool. And like any tool, I am using you to achieve my goal."

Raphael growled, eyes darting left and right, trying to find something, anything to bring sanity back to this.

"Aww," Don said, lightly, mocking, "Does that make you mad, Raphie? I thought you wanted to be useful. I thought you said that you would do anything I asked of you..."

"STOP!"

This was a trick, some sort of game. It had to be. The only question was why?! Why would the spirit of fire test him in this way? What did it fucking mean?!

Donatello's face shifted in the smoke as he moved his weight onto one foot like he was little more than bored. "Don't pretend like you didn't see this coming. My family was the one betrayed. We paid the price and now I've come to claim what I am owed. Why would I continue to suffer the three of you, why should I share, when the empire is mine by rights?!"

"No... no..."

"Hmm... maybe I won't kill you." Donatello said, thoughtful as he dragged his gaze down Raph's body and back up again. "You could be useful to me in other ways... a concubine perhaps."

"This isn't real..." Raphael ground out; his gaze locked on the corpses at his feet.

Donatello cocked his head with a sardonic grin. "Then how do you explain what you can see with your own eyes? Or do you truly believe yourself so weak minded?"

"NO!" Raph shouted, Donatello's words hitting a nerve he hadn't even been aware existed. "Fuck you, okay! That happened one time. ONE!... I was just a kid for fucks sake, and it didn't even work! I didn't do what he tried to make me do, alright?! I saw right through that shit and he's not gonna get a second chance!"

He didn't know why he said it. A knife to his throat couldn't have made him explain what brought out that particular memory in response to Donatello's taunt. Maybe it was the shock of what he was seeing, maybe it was the fear that the echoes had left simmering in the back of his mind.

He'd never told anyone about that day.

Raphael blinked and everything... stopped. Complete silence fell heavy in his ears, and as he watched, the specter images of Donatello, Michelangelo, and Leonardo dissolved right before his eyes. Their solid bodies turned to smoke, thick and black, then grey, then gone... disappearing as if they had never existed in the first place.

Left alone in the murk, the prince of fire tensed, waiting with bated breath for the final blow.

He saw the glow of the ruby before the rest of the elemental spirit appeared out of the gloom, but he felt no threat from the beast as it stopped before him, and for a long moment it only stared, considering him in silence.

When a voice, deep and ancient, suddenly sounded in his head, Raphael rocked back on his feet.

"Of whom do you speak?"

"What?" Raph replied, reeling a bit from the sudden change.

"The manipulation of your mind... of whom do you speak?"

"Apelles, the fuckin' snake." He blinked in surprise as the words tumbled out of his mouth before his brain even registered he was speaking.

"Show us..."

The spirit stretched out an arm, touching Raph's forehead with a single curved claw, and images, unbidden, flashed behind his eyes. The night of their investiture, a dark balcony, the sounds of celebration drifting out from the blindingly bright room behind him, the breeze that cooled his too hot skin, the figure in the shadows whispering in his ear nonsense words that slipped and slid like oil, like mud, the numbness of his limbs, the despair...

Raphael couldn't even remember what it was that Apelles had thought to make him do, or why he would even try. He only remembered the fear he had felt when he resisted the compulsion to do something he knew he didn't want. And he remembered the worry that kept him awake for long nights after, when he thought the emperor would punish him for his disobedience. He had only been ten years old at the time.

His hands flew up to press against his ears, trying, failing to ease a sudden sharp ache in his head. His thoughts and memories were being forcefully pulled from the depths of his mind. It felt like sand and grit scraping over his brain. The pressure of it, the pain that lanced behind his eyes like the slice of a blade was intolerable and he railed against it. Get out GET OUT! He silently screamed, but the spirit was unrelenting as it searched the darkest corners of his consciousness for what it sought.

Just like Apelles sliding into his thoughts, the creature took liberties Raphael refused to concede. But this time he wasn't a scared little boy; this time he could defend himself. An inferno of rage swelled inside him, gnawing its way up from his gut. His mind was his own! No one was allowed to violate it, not even the spirit that had gifted him the power of the element now surging in his veins.

He felt the fire roar up, thick as it filled his lungs and stuck in his throat. It burned through every inch of him until he thought he would explode, releasing destruction just like the ruby that even now mocked him, bright and red, from where it rested within the beast's skull. He couldn't control this rush of rage, couldn't contain it. It was more than he was. It was magic in its purest form.

Raphael relished the momentary flash of uncertainty that came from the spirit of fire as it pulled back in the instant before the rage burst from him in a cascade of flame. An outburst of fire, detonating so hot it burned an iridescent blue, jagged and searing white at the edges.

He screamed until his voice broke and fell to the ground as the last of the fire left him, jarring his knees on the sharp earth, feeling like every ounce of his strength had bled from his body. The taste of burn and char coated his tongue, and he choked out a grim laugh when he coughed, and a puff of smoke escaped past his lips.

The spirit was nowhere to be seen, and a small, gleeful, rebellious part of him that didn't care about consequences hoped he had destroyed it.

He swayed back onto his heels and realized that the dark smoke obscuring the landscape was gone as well. He sat facing the cliffs, the second obsidian pillar only a stone's throw away in front of him. He heard the pounding thumps of footsteps and turned to see the others rushing toward him from across the blackened field. An aching pressure deep in his chest unclenched at the sight of them and he heaved something between a sob and a laugh.

Slowly, Raphael found his feet. He had no idea what he was going to say, there were only fragments of thought left in the mess the spirit had made in his mind and none of what had just happened made a damn bit of sense.

The spirit of fire blinked back into existence directly between them, just as the others drew close. In the light of day it looked taller, standing more than double his height, and even though its eyes were nothing more than black voids in its skull, Raph could see the contempt with which it regarded him now, clearly unimpressed by his little outburst.

Score one for me, he thought, flashing the creature a smug grin.

The beast ignored him, turning to face the others where they were silently holding a respectful distance. It didn't bother to acknowledge Donatello or Michelangelo. Instead, it immediately locked its empty gaze on Leonardo and stared him down.

Surprise flickered across Leo's face, but Raph knew he had never been one to submit to a perceived threat. The spirit was going to need far more than an intimidating look to get under his skin. True to form, the prince of air stiffened under the scrutiny, pulling himself up to his full height with his shoulders back and his head held high.

Raphael wished he could enjoy it. Any other time, any other place, it might have been entertaining to watch as Leo tried not to squirm, but this wasn't about him, and after everything that had happened, Raph wasn't going to let the spirit of his element ignore him during his own damn trial.

"Hey, eyes on me!" Raph called, stalking forward. "Are we done here or are ya' gonna explain what the fuck that was all about?"

For a second the spirit seemed to shiver with indignant ire, and the prince of fire flinched as its weighted voice sounded in his head once more.

"Impertinent... willful child... never before... never..." the spirit stamped a black hoof hard against the earth and shook its great head, flinging hot embers into the air that sizzled as they hit the ground. "...you have proven your worth, Prince of Fire."

Raphael thought if the beast had lips, it would have been sneering at him, and he was sure he heard the damned thing actually scoff in disgust right before it disappeared.

The ruby fell straight down to the charred ground with a dull thud, and he stared at it for a long moment without moving.

"So... anyone else feel like that didn't exactly go the way it was supposed to?" Michelangelo finally worked up the courage to ask.

"Yes, that was... very strange." Leo acknowledged.

From the corner of his eye, Raph could see Don moving toward him, slow and careful, but he couldn't bring himself to look at the price of water. Couldn't look at any of them because he knew if he did all he would see would be the blood and the gore and the death in their eyes. He didn't want to look at Don and see the malice that was present when that figment with his face had said those terrible things.

He couldn't deal with that. Not here. Not now.

Raphael snatched the ruby off the ground, making straight for the pillar and slamming it into place. Then he took off up the trail, not bothering to check if the others were following him. He just had to move, just had to keep the thoughts in his head at bay.

He didn't even notice when the milky veil over his vision cleared and the world around him blurred into dreary dullness once more.

~*~.~*~

The trail took them up the cliffs a long way before it turned and carved a path directly into the mountains. Rock formations surrounded them on all sides, with spires that curved up to the clouds like trunks of great trees reaching for sunlight. Only some sparse vegetation broke up the monotonous grey.

Hours passed as Raphael led them ever higher along the path, and Donatello trailed close behind him, lost in thought as he tried to make sense of what had happened. They were all tired, exhausted really... subdued. The scraping steps of their boots on hard packed earth were the only sounds echoing off the rock.

The trial had begun and ended in barely the blink of an eye. Don remembered the explosion from the ruby knocking him off his feet, then there was the impenetrable smoke, and then... it was over. Raph seemed to have come out of it unscathed, except for the small cut on his cheek and the way he was shutting them out without even a single word of explanation.

Donatello wanted to make him stop so they could talk about it, hating the closed off, despairing look on his face. He wanted to reach out and touch Raph, to feel the heat of his skin and offer some sort of comfort, but the way Leo and Mikey were automatically giving the fire prince a long lead spoke volumes, as if this type of thing were a normal occurrence. The idea that it likely was, did nothing to make Don feel any better.

They finally found a campsite perched on an overlook, just as the sun was beginning to hang low in the sky. It was well stocked with plenty of supplies, and there was a spring of fresh water nearby. The view of the valley spreading out below them was breathtaking.

The four of them settled in quickly, despite the tension, though Raphael did nothing but stand next to the fire he'd ignited, staring into the flames like they held the answers to all the universe's questions.

Don watched him discreetly, sensing that he needed space, wishing he knew what to say to bring the fire prince back to them. Something had happened to him in the smoke, something that the rest of them hadn't seen, and the shadow it now cast in his eyes was heart wrenching.

After what seemed like an eternity of Raph brooding in silence, Don couldn't take it anymore. Mikey and Leo may have been content to leave him be, but Don was determined to do something. He steeled himself and slowly walked up to Raph, reaching out to touch his arm when the fire prince failed to acknowledge he was there. Like the bite of ice against fevered skin, Raphael jerked away, grunting as he stormed off into the dark.

Donatello felt a sharp stab of hurt from the dismissal, but his frown only deepened with determination. He wasn't going to just stand around and let Raph suffer on his own; if something was wrong, he wanted to help. He took a step to follow, but suddenly Mikey was there, wrapping his arms around Don's waist with a knowing look.

"Let him go, Donnie. Sometimes Raph just needs a minute to himself to clear through the thoughts in his head."

"He... he doesn't have to do that alone..." Don said, petulant as his voice trailed off into uncertainty.

"Please, just... trust me on this." Mikey said with quiet reassurance. "He'll come back before the sun comes up. He always does."

Leo was watching him with a sympathetic expression from where he sat by the fire, and Don was suddenly struck by how familiar this was to them both. How many times? How many nights had they waited through the long hours for Raph to return from a similar bout of his temper? The thought of it was so distressing that, suddenly, Don wasn't so sure if he actually wanted to know the answer.

The earth prince leaned in and gave him a quick kiss before sitting down against Leonardo's side with a happy sigh. Don watched them for a moment before joining them, conceding that he needed to wait, as much as it pained him to do so.

They shared a small meal, talking quietly about nothing in particular, while Don kept glancing at Raphael's empty seat, aching for his warmth. When the stars finally appeared and the moon glowed brightly overhead, Leonardo said goodnight and led a drowsy Michelangelo off to his tent, leaving Don alone with the crackling firelight.

He waited a few more minutes, hoping to see Raph materialize out of the shadows, but when there was no sign of him, he willed himself to turn in for the night. He went straight to the prince of fire's tent, not even entertaining the idea of his own. Mikey had promised that Raph would come back before sunrise, and Don was determined to be waiting for him when he did.

The hours passed slowly as he slept in fits and starts, waking at every small noise, until finally his dozing was interrupted by the soft scuffle of footfall. He sat up as the tent flap swung open and Raphael ducked inside. He looked exhausted, his face tear stained, his knuckles torn and bloody from where he must have been punching something.

Don paled at the sight of him. He opened his mouth to speak, but then Raph looked up, and their eyes met, and for a split second he thought he saw something dark pass across the fire prince's gaze, something like hate, black and hostile. But then the look was gone, and Raph shook his head, exhaling with an obvious breath of relief.

They held, frozen like that, for a long moment, a low steady pressure building between them as they looked at each other. Don could tell Raphael was still shaken, and in that moment, he understood that words would get them nowhere, the prince of fire needed something more real, something to ground him before he spun out of control.

Donatello opened his arms in invitation, distantly wondering if it was silly to be inviting Raph into his own bed, but the thought was quickly forgotten when he saw the way those amber eyes burned as they tracked his movements.

Raphael said nothing, crossing the space to his mat in two strides, pinning Don to the furs with his lips and his hips, kissing him long and slow. Don tried to be mindful of the cut on Raph's face which still hadn't been cleaned and was seeping a fresh line of blood, but the fire prince didn't seem to care, he only pressed closer, licking and nipping with single minded intent.

The kiss turned devouring and Donatello moaned against the tongue sliding past his lips. Wrapping his arms around Raph's neck he tugged and pulled, guiding him down, until he had Raph spread out over him, savoring the feel of his heavy weight pressing his shell into the ground beneath them.

There was a slow sort of urgency, like a pot over a low flame, gently simmering but still hot enough to burn. Raph was solid and strong and safe, so safe, and their magic was all mixed up together, water and fire, hot and cool, sparking and soothing and raw. All at once it didn't seem so important anymore, whatever it was that had so upset the fire prince, not when they were so perfect, so good together.

They rocked against each other, hips pushing together so languid and slow that Don hardly even noticed when Raph lifted up enough to give them both the space to drop down. Suddenly, he felt a hard, burning length straining against his own through the thin layers of fabric still separating their skin. His mouth fell open with a soft gasp and Raphael chased him down, tongue hungry and searching.

Every thought abandoned him then, lost to sensation, there was only breath and pounding heartbeats and the rush of blood. Donatello's hands skittered downward, curled around Raph's hips and pulled him in closer as he arched up, back bowing as far as his shell would allow. With an almost involuntary twitch, Raph's grip went tight, thumbs digging under Don's jaw to push his head back, baring his throat.

"Raph, yes, please…" Don whispered, pleading as he twisted his head back even further, offering his neck and everything that he was.

Raphael shuddered in his arms, grunted a broken sound, his gaze glittering as he sealed his lips just above Don's collarbone and sucked until blood flushed the skin, biting indents that darkened and stayed, marking, claiming as Don squirmed and begged for more with mumbled, half-formed words.

They kept a slow rhythm until they were clutching at each other, trembling and incoherent. Raph propped himself up on his elbows, took Don's face in his hands, pressed their foreheads together as he rolled his hips and suddenly the joined strands of their magic reverberated with a shock of pleasure-pain and a burst of blooming warmth. The fire prince growled, deep and low, muffling the sound into Don's shoulder, never stilling, never slowing until Don followed him over the edge with a strangled cry, shaking and overwhelmed and breathless.

For long moments after, neither moved, stunned and panting and shivering through the aftershocks in a jumble of limbs and damp skin. Through the thin slits of his eyes, Don could see small embers of flame hovering in the air all around them, and somewhere in the haze he had the presence of mind to pull a bit of water from the washing basin, encasing each small dot of magical fire in liquid so they didn't burn holes through the cloth of the tent.

"I love you… I love you…" Raph breathed over and over into Don's shoulder, and the water prince felt wetness soak into the collar of his tunic.

Donatello sucked in a heavy breath, emotion making his eyes sting with tears of his own. "I love you, too," he insisted, pressing kisses against the side of Raph's face, "so much."

Eventually they separated, but only for long enough to peel off their soiled clothes before falling back into each other's arms down under the furs. Raph held him tightly and Don tucked himself up under his chin, nuzzling his jaw with soft kisses. His neck throbbed where Raph had bit him, but he cherished the ache, knew that he would let Raph do it again and again and again, because he loved the thought that they belonged to each other, and he wanted to bear the proof of that for everyone to see.

Raphael was finally relaxed, his mind quiet with only a hint of the turmoil that had plagued him, and when Don looked up into his eyes, the prince of fire managed a small smile.

"Will you tell me what happened?" Donatello whispered, tracing Raph's bottom lip with his thumb.

"Yeah," Raph croaked, leaning into the water prince's touch, kissing his palm, "but not now."

"No," Don agreed, "not now."

This moment was an affirmation, meant to deepen the strength of their bond. Tomorrow they would talk about it. For now, they just closed their eyes, sharing muttered endearments and reassuring touches until they finally fell into a dreamless, satisfied sleep.

~*~.~*~

When Donatello woke the next morning, Raphael told him what the spirit had done, told him the horror of what the specter of himself had said, and Don spent a long, long time convincing him, without a shadow of a doubt, that none of it was true. Not one single, stupid word.

The purpose of where they were and what they were supposed to be doing was momentarily forgotten, nothing was more important as they lost themselves to time and each other. It was as natural as breathing when Leo and Mikey quietly joined them and listened to the prince of fire's words. Together with Don they worked as one to erase the images from Raph's memory, replacing them with a cocoon of protection created by their love.

By the time they were done, Raphael had almost forgotten all about it... and this time there really was a slightly smoking hole burned through the side of the tent.

~*~.~*~ tmnt ~*~.~*~