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Raphael was tired.
Bone-deep, all-consumingly tired- it pulled at his senses, muffling the whole world like a pair of thick headphones. Sleep called at the edges of his perception, indignant at the interruption. What had woken him up? He’d been in the middle of some strange, drawn-out dream…the more he thought about it, the less of it he remembered. His ears buzzed with static. His head pounded like a war drum.
Forcibly, Raph peeled his eyelids open, fluttering awake. The world was a blur of soft, dark color. He was sitting upright. He knew that, instinctively- he was propped up, full weight leaning on something sturdy at his back; nearby, light flickered in shades of neon.
A movie.
Right, yeah, he remembered now- he and Pops were watching a movie. They’d been watching a movie, and he’d fallen asleep. That made sense. As the eldest son, he always got to stay up a little late- while his brothers had to be in bed by seven-thirty, Raph got a whole extra hour. He’d always spent every precious minute of it curled up beside his father’s chair, watching meaningless TV; their own small, quiet form of bonding.
One of Raph’s arms was curled numbly around his plastron. The other one stretched out, hand reaching, searching for warmth- the body of a father, or maybe a brother. He finds nothing at all. That’s fine. His brothers were in bed already, or at least they should have been…and Pops was probably just getting water, or something. He’d be back soon. Everything was okay.
Raphael breathed out a soft sigh. It would be so easy to fall back asleep. The call of it echoed inside him, grasping with warm, soft hands- a painkiller for his headache, the gentle lull of rest. He could close his eyes right now and drift off. Pops would carry him back to his room and tuck him in, if he did…it would be so, so easy. Sleep beckoned him with open arms.
But he couldn’t answer.
There was something inside of him, some churning gut instinct, some demand- he couldn’t go to sleep yet. He just couldn’t. No matter how tired he got, he just couldn’t go to sleep, he shouldn’t… Raph needed to stay awake. He wasn’t exactly sure why. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but this felt important; too important to just brush off. He couldn’t fall asleep. He needed to stay awake.
So, awake he would stay. That wouldn’t be too hard. He’d stay awake until Dad got back, at the very least, and see how things went from there. That made sense, right?
Yeah.
Raph let out another soft breath, each blink long and slow- each one was a test of his fortitude, a war to get his eyes back open. He tiptoed the line between rest and waking. But, really, it wasn’t so bad…he was more sleepy than tired. A pleasant warmth had wrapped itself around him, draped like a blanket; like a hearth, snapping and popping in his skin. The snapper let out a soft hum.
The movie. It was going too fast for him to catch- the sounds were all nonsense, and the blur in his vision certainly wasn’t helping. Whatever was playing, it wasn’t Lou Jitsu. Raph would know. It sounded different…this one was all lasers and explosions, the sounds of distant yelling. It didn’t sound like Jupiter Jim either, though; he had no clue what movie this was. But whatever. It didn’t really matter. Raph caught a yawn in the back of his throat- he was too tired to care.
From somewhere nearby, the sound of quiet footsteps. The snapper turned to look. They weren’t Dad’s- not only was the gait different, but the sound was softer…stealthier, almost. Like a scared child, wandering through the dark. One of his brothers. Raph fought to keep his eyes open, blinking hard, if only to see which one was coming ‘round the corner.
“Raph?”
Immediately, he knows.
“Hey, Donnie.” Raph’s voice came out weak, slurred with exhaustion. The words just didn’t seem to want to cooperate. “What’s up?”
The footsteps broke out into a run. Skidding around the corner, there’s a blur of purple and green- Donatello, practically flying over to his side; hoodie hanging a few sizes too big. The softshell’s glasses were low on his snout, knocked askew. A desperate hand latches on to Raph’s shoulder. His grip is white-knuckle tight. “RAPH! Raph, oh my g-d, Raph…”
“Donnie?” The snapper blinks, trying to get his eyes to focus. He can’t get a read on his brother’s expression. There’s fear in his voice, though, real fear…enough to make Raph worry. “You okay?”
“Of course I’m okay- oh my g-d, oh my g-d, Raph… ” Before he knew it, the softshell was in his lap, pulling him into a hug; arms flung as far as they could go around his shoulders. Raph startled. A hug? He wasn’t complaining, exactly, but he hadn’t expected this- and he really, really didn’t know what to make of it. His mind is hazy, but he immediately tries to focus.
“What’s wrong?”
Donnie’s head dipped down, forehead resting against his older brother’s chest. “WHY did you have to do that…? Of all the stupid moves to pull…of all the stupid, dumb-dumb choices to make…”
“Don?”
“That was so dumb. That was so stupid. ”
Oh. Sluggishly, Raph’s tired mind made the connection- it all suddenly made sense. The hugs, the desperation, the physical touch…his brother must’ve had a nightmare. Poor Donnie. Raph’s heart burned with sympathy. His left arm, the one slung over his plastron, was pinned between them, but his right arm, the free one, he immediately wrapped around his brother’s shoulders; pulling him close.
“It’s okay.”
“Raph…”
“It’s okay, Don. It’s okay.” He whispered it, a promise, cradling his younger brother in his arms. He’s getting so big already. “It’s okay, Donnie. I’m here.”
The softshell trembled. A bit clumsily, Raph pressed his lips to the top of his head, holding him even closer. This must’ve been the reason he got a bad feeling earlier…his big brother senses, as Leo liked to call them, quick to tell him when his family was in distress. They’re a bit dulled by the weight of his exhaustion, but they’re there all the same. All Raph can do is hold his brother, mutter comforting nonsense in his ear, and hope that the storm passes quick.
“It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here, Don, you’re okay. Raph’s here.”
Donnie whined. Raph just kept whispering the promise, the matra, again and again; rubbing circles into his brother’s battle shell. His battle shell? Hadn’t he been wearing his hoodie just a second ago? No, no, that didn’t matter…Donnie needed comfort. Donnie needed someone to hug him and say that everything was going to be okay, and that someone needed to be Raph. He’d be that someone. He’d be that someone until the day he died, if they needed him to.
The two of them sat there in almost-silence, rocking and trembling and whispering- in the background, the movie quieted down a bit. Didn’t do anything for Raph’s growing headache. It was a low throbbing now, a pounding inside his head…man, sleep sounded so good right now. His eyes were already starting to slip shut again, head drooping to rest on top of his brother’s, when Donnie went completely still in his arms.
“Raph…?”
“It’s okay, Donnie…’m here. ‘S okay…”
“Raph, you’re bleeding.”
“...Oh.” He was? The snapper looked down, trying to get his eyes to focus. Sure enough, Donnie wasn’t lying- spreading out from underneath him, inch by slow inch, was a thin pool of red. Odd. He didn’t remember getting hurt. Why was he bleeding? Raph wasn’t too worried about the whole thing, but still…it was a bit of an issue, especially when he had a brother to comfort. “Huh. I didn’ notice.”
Donnie pulled back a bit, doing something to his visor that made it flash violet. Hadn’t he been wearing his glasses just a second ago? It didn’t really matter…sleep was calling to him again, louder than before. Raph leaned back, staring at his brother through heavy-lidded eyes; too tired to understand his expression. It didn’t really matter.
“ …First of all,” Donnie said, hesitantly, “you have a concussion.”
That made enough sense. Raph’s head did hurt, and he was pretty sure his vision wasn’t supposed to be blurring and doubling like it was. Mildly concerning, sure, but he still wasn’t too worried about it- concussion or no concussion, Donnie wasn’t feeling better yet. That was far more important.
He tilted his head, trying for a smile. “Don’ worry. Dad will take care of it.”
Donnie recoiled. “You…you have a concussion. Definitely a concussion.” The softshell’s fingers twitched and curled, tapping together in endless, nervous patterns. “Second of all…I’m detecting serious damage to your plastron. Move your arm.”
“That’s not important,” Raph assured. “You’re gonna be okay.”
“For the love of Einstein, not now. Move your arm.”
“It’s okay, Don. It was just a nightmare. You’re okay.”
“ Stop. ” Donnie growled, breaking the hug completely. It caught Raph off guard- had he read the situation wrong? Maybe that was the wrong thing to say. Maybe Donnie hadn’t even had a nightmare in the first place. Maybe he was just making everything worse. (Wouldn’t be the first time.) “I don’t have time for your big brother bullshit, Raph. Move your arm. ”
“Language,” Raph chided, weakly. “But…I…I dunno if I can.”
He wasn’t lying. All of his limbs burned with pins-and-needles, like his blood cells had been replaced with thumb tacks- even if he could move it, it would probably hurt like hell.
“Try.”
For Donnie’s sake, he tried.
The arm slung across his plastron, his left arm, it wouldn’t move- it just sat there, dull and heavy, completely unresponsive to his commands. Had he dislocated it? Raph didn’t remember dislocating his arm…but then again, he couldn’t remember too much in general. Chalk that one up to the concussion.
Working up all of his energy, he lifted his right arm- using it to indelicately push his left arm aside. He was right. It did hurt like hell; not only in his arms, as for some reason, his abdomen had started to ache. A weird, warm numbness had taken up residence right underneath his ribs. The snapper relaxed back, arms settling at his sides; looking to his brother for approval.
There was a long, long silence.
“…oh.” Donnie’s voice was very, very small. “Oh my g-d.”
There was a smear of red across the front of Donnie’s clothes, one that hadn’t been there before. Raph wanted to reach up, wanted to brush it away, but he didn’t have the energy- something wet and warm was leaking down his chest, collecting in the hollow of his lap. “Don?”
“Oh my g-d. Oh g-d, Raph…”
“Donnie,” pooling together all of his energy, he embarked on the herculean task of moving his hand; cupping his brother’s shoulder. The softshell was trembling again. “Wha’s wrong?”
“Raph, I-I, I…” Donnie’s voice was shaking as hard as his body. The tone in his voice was wild- every negative emotion at once thrown in a blender, the foul concoction dripping from each syllable. “Oh, oh g-d, oh g-d…”
“Don…?”
“I…I can see your insides.”
Raph looked down, his hand slipping from his brother’s shoulder. There was a hole in his chest. Right where the numbness was, right underneath where his ribs connected, there was a hole- shattered outwards in sharp splinters, oozing out dark blood. Fragments of bone flowed too, sailed down like yellow ships on red waters; fragments of bone and torn flesh. Some of it might’ve been his organs. The taste of metal slid down his throat.
“Oh.”
Donnie turned away and retched.
Vaguely, Raph recognized his brother pushing to his feet, staggering a few paces away- his vision was swimming. A hole. Why’d he have a hole? He wasn’t too worried about it, really wasn’t…it wasn’t too big of an issue. Donnie was feeling bad. That was the real problem. Donnie was feeling bad, and it was the job of an older brother to help him.
“Donnie…” Somewhere in the very back of Raphael’s mind, a dim light in darkness- a realization. “We ain’t really in the lair, are we?”
“N-No, we’re not. We’re…” Donatello was panting- he turned, one arm braced against the wall, and lost his lunch. The smell of stomach acid hung thick in the air. “Oh, oh g-d…I, I can’t…I can’t…oh g-d. Oh g-d.”
Raph wanted to move. He wanted to sweep his younger brother into a hug, rub his back as he caught his breath, but Raph couldn’t- even if he wasn’t exhausted, the thing at his back was the only thing keeping him upright. He was so, so tired…but his job wasn’t done. Donnie was still upset. That was what mattered.
“Don…’s okay, I promise. It’s okay.”
“It’s okay?!” The softshell whirled around to look at him. “Nothing about this is okay! You have a hole in your chest! You have a concussion! I can see your insides, and you just, you…!” Donnie trailed off, some grand revelation dawning on his face. “…you have a concussion. Raph, what’s the last thing you remember?”
The turtle in question blinked emptily. His mouth was too wet- he licked the underside of his teeth, trying to chase away the taste of iron. “Uh…I don’t…”
“The evacuation?” Donnie prompted, staggering back over to kneel at his side. “Do you remember? We needed to evacuate the base.”
“I…I had t’ put you guys to bed,” Raph maintained. He could still hear it, the buzz of the tv, the ceaseless sound of water from the sewer- it felt infinitely more real than the reality Donnie was painting for him. “You…you shouldn’ be up.”
“No, that’s not-” Donnie snapped his fingers in Raph’s face, trying to keep his attention. “Hey, hey! Look at me. Look me in the eyes, can you do that?”
He couldn’t do it. Raph really, really tried, he promised, but he just couldn’t do it- he knew, logically, where his brother’s face might’ve been, but it was all just a haze of purple and green. He made a sound, some sort of groan or keen in lieu of sorry. Donatello hissed out a sigh.
“Okay, that’s okay…that’s fine. This is fine. Just…just hold on, okay?” Donnie’s hand came down on his shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze. “I…I’m going to try to stop the bleeding.”
The snapper’s head lolled to the side. He was so, so tired…when was dad coming back? When did the movie stop playing? He didn’t like this new reality, the one where Donnie had a visor and Raph was bleeding out. He wanted to go back to sleep. He wanted to go back to sleep- but before he knew it, there was a rag in his brother’s hand and an apology at his lips, and Raph didn’t even have time to ask what it was for before the pain started.
The pain. Bursting through his chest, running white-hot through his veins. It radiated from the pressure on his plastron, Donnie pressing the rag down over the hole- if Raph had been just a little less weak than he was, he would’ve thrown his brother off on instinct. The snapper’s fingers twitched, his leg jolting miserably. It hurt. It hurt. Hot red burbled up from his insides, staining through the rag, flowing over Donnie’s hands; in the back of Raph’s ears, there was a constant drone of I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.
The snapper let out an agonized whine.
As abruptly as the pain had come, it stopped- no more pressure, no more rag. The softshell tossed it aside like it’d burned him. Raph could see the problem…Donnie’s hands were covered in red, slick and sticky, running down his wrists; a bad sensation even in the best of times. Donnie rocked back and forth. He was beginning to sound hysterical.
“No no no no no, that didn’t help, that made it worse- why did Leo say to put pressure on a wound if that just makes it worse?! I can’t do it. I’m sorry. I’m sorry Raph, I’m so sorry…”
For a moment, with the pain came lucidity. The bleeding, the pressure, the tiredness…the signs all pointed in the same direction. He’d be an idiot to not see it. Raph took a long breath, forcing his lungs to inflate all the way. “Don?”
The softshell pauses his breakdown. “Y-Yeah?”
“Donnie, am I…” Raph swallowed thickly. His whole mouth tasted like iron. “Am I dying?”
A pause.
“No.” Donatello’s hand slid into his, the grip reassuringly tight. Both of their hands were wet with his blood. “ No, you’re not dying. You’re not going to die. I won’t let that happen. I won’t. ”
“Okay.” Raph relaxed. He allowed himself to let go, to give up on things making sense- to sink back into the sounds and sights of the lair. Donnie was, by far, the smartest person Raph had ever or could ever meet. If his little brother said he wasn’t going to die, then he wasn’t. Donnie was never wrong. “I trust you.”
The softshell let out a devastated noise. “I’m…I’m going to call Leo and Mikey, okay? They’re gonna come and we’re gonna get you to the medical ward. I can’t fix you, but they can. Just hold on. Everything’s gonna be okay.”
“No…don’ wake them up, ‘s okay.” Holding his head up took too much energy, so he dropped it; staring dazedly at his brother from underneath the ridge of his brow. “You said everything’s gonna be okay.”
“I’m calling them. Give me just a second, okay? I’m calling Leo and Mikey so we can get you back to the base. Do you understand?” When he didn’t respond, Donnie shook him roughly. “ Do you understand?”
Raph stifled a groan. “Yeah, yeah…I get it.”
His brother’s hand slipped out from his hold, going to tap at the device at his wrist. That little computer…Donnie always had it with him, ever since he made it. There was something endearing about that. Raphael passively watched him type, eyelids begging to close- he wouldn’t let them. He wanted to hear his other brothers’ voices.
There were a few tense seconds where Donnie just rocked on his heels, the comm link on his wrist ringing out into the silence; waiting for a connection. Raph could hear his brother whispering under his breath, something like a prayer- please please please, pick up, pick up.
Click.
“Donnie?” It was Leo’s voice. “What’s going on? Have you found him yet? When I told him to create a distraction, I didn’t mean it like that!”
“I-I know, Leo. I found him. We don’t have much time- I’ve sent you my coordinates. Get here FAST.”
For the span of a single heartbeat, a silence- the wet iron in Raph’s mouth overflowed, leaking down from the corner of his mouth. Leo’s voice came back stilted. “Donnie…did the Kraang-?”
“ No time, ” Donnie hissed. “Bring Mikey. Get here as fast as you can, I don’t care how. Message over.”
There was a split second of noise, the beginnings of Leo’s response, but Donnie ended the call; immediately turning back to Raph. Their hands intertwined again. This time, his brother’s grip was so tight it stung. He didn’t really mind- if Donnie needed to squeeze the life out of something to feel better, Raph’s hand was as good a thing as any.
“Okay…okay,” the softshell murmured, still rocking. “Everything’s going to be okay. Leo and Mikey are coming. We’re going to get you to the medical ward, okay? A-And when you’re better, you can have the last slice of the next pizza we find. Does that sound good? Raph?”
He was so, so, so tired.
“Sounds great, Don…” Black dots danced in his periphery. His eyelids fluttered shut, and this time, he didn’t have the strength to pry them back open- sleep pulled at him like gravity, down into the dark and quiet. “Sounds great…”
Raph’s senses began to fade.
SLAP.
It didn’t hurt so much as startle him, but the snapper jolted back awake- his brother had struck him hard across the face. Ow. Donnie was speaking again, a flurry of words that Raph could barely understand; each syllable tinged with hysteria. His voice was low like praying. Low like begging. “Don’t close your eyes. Stay awake. That’s an order. You do not get to die on me, do you understand? Just hold on until Leo and Mikey get here. Just hold on.”
“I’ll try,” Raph mumbled, just barely above a whisper. “I’ll try.”
His brother dropped his hand again, curling himself around one of Raph’s arms instead; pulling himself halfway onto his lap. Donnie’s cheek pressed up against his spikes. “It’s going to be okay. Leo and Mikey are going to come, and everything’ll be okay.”
“I’m tired.”
“I know, Raphie, I know…but you have to fight, okay? Think about Casey Junior. His second birthday is soon, remember? You have to be there for the party. You said you’d do the decorations.” Raph let out a soft hum in response, eyes slipping shut again- Donnie shook him violently. “Eyes open. Stay awake. I am not allowing you to die on me.”
Raphael chuckled under his breath. “You’re real bossy, Don…”
His younger brother pressed harder against his arm, breathing out a broken laugh. “I learned from the best.”
Raph opened his mouth to respond, but what came out wasn’t words. A coughing fit grasped tight around his lungs, leaving him gasping for air between each one- the iron from his mouth splattered across the floor. He couldn’t breathe. Donnie pressed tighter, tighter against his arm, and whispered soothing nonsense. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe.
After what felt like an eternity, the coughing subsided; leaving the snapper heaving, shuddering for breath. He felt emptier for it. All the warmth inside of him was gone, had leaked out onto the concrete…his fingers were numb like frostbite. The coughing had sapped what little energy he still had. He leaned his head against his brother’s.
“Donnie…’m sorry.”
His brother’s head shifted a bit. “For what?”
“I…I dunno. Everything.” He didn’t know what he was talking about anymore. Brow knitting, he searched his memory for something to be sorry about. “I broke your Atomic Lass doll.”
“When I was six? Raph, I don’t care about that anymore.”
“I’m sorry.”
“S-Stop saying that,” Donnie insisted. “Stop apologizing.” Raph’s eyes slid shut, and his brother hit him across the face again, harder this time. “Stay awake, please, you gotta stay awake…you are not allowed to die yet. We need you. Think of the party.”
Something wet dripped onto his shoulder. It was hot like blood, but a different consistency- dimly, Raph recognized it as water. Tears. Donnie was crying. He didn’t know what to do about that, he didn’t know how to fix this…but he needed to say something.
“I love you.”
Donnie was quiet for a moment.
“I love you too, Raph.”
“Tell Leo and Mikey…tell them I love them. April too.” He was sat at the end of a long, dark hallway, watching Donnie cry at the other end- watching the light slowly fade. “Tell them ‘m sorry I can’t come to the party.”
“Tell them yourself. You’re coming to the party, you’re gonna make it. You don’t get to die. Not yet. Stay awake. Just- please Raph, please hold on. Just hold on until Leo and Mikey get here, okay?” Donnie’s voice broke. “Please.”
He was so cold. Falling asleep was just second nature, as easy as breathing- he could feel the pulse inside his chest beginning to slow. Donnie would forgive him if he took a nap, right? Just a short nap…he was so cold and so tired, and sleep would be so nice. Just a short nap. Just a little sleep.
“Raph, please, just hold on. Just a little longer.”
Reality was beginning to slip through his fingers, but he didn’t really mind- it was suddenly so easy to see Donnie as a little boy again, in his glasses and hoodie, curled up in front of their father’s projector. Moonlight streamed in from somewhere up above, the whole lair stained red. He could hear water rushing through the sewer. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears.
“Raph, we need you. Don't go. Please, please just stay awake…!”
The numbness began to climb up his chest.
“Please, Raphie. I need you.”
At the very edge of Raph’s perception, distant and echoing, was the sound of footsteps in the hall. Only one pair. He couldn’t tell if they were walking or running, but they were getting closer. They were coming home. Donnie was still talking, gripping even tighter on his arm, but he couldn’t understand a word- his eyes were beginning to close again, and no amount of shaking or hitting or crying gave him the strength to hold them open.
A smile spread across the snapper’s face.
“Donnie,” he said, with the last tattered scraps of his energy; barely even a whisper. “I can hear dad coming.”
Maybe his brother responded, maybe he didn’t. Maybe he didn’t even hear. Raph would never know. The numbness swallowed him whole, lowering him down into the sweet, silent darkness; one by one, his senses shut down. The taste of iron. The sight of his blood on the concrete. The smell of coffee, ever-present in Donnie’s breath- the feeling of his younger brother curled up around his arm. The high-pitched sound of Donnie’s pleading sobs.
The footsteps in the hallway.
Against his brother’s orders, Raphael’s eyes slipped shut.
And they never opened again.