#dark!raph

His head is spinning, and his stomach is flipping from some of the worst nausea he’s ever experienced in his life, and above him are Leo and Donnie’s faces, each with varying degrees of hope, anxiety, concern, and fear, which is the most confusing. There’s also the thin cut on Donnie’s cheek, the gigantic empty syringe in Donnie’s hand, and the bandages covering most of Leo’s left bicep and right thigh to wonder about – not to mention the fact that Raph feels like he came out the loser in a faceoff with a bulldozer.

And the worst part is Raph can’t remember a thing.

“What happened?” he groans, bringing a hand up to over his eyes as he tries to block out the bright light overhead.

Donnie’s hand intercepts his, holding tightly as he leans in closer, peering intently into Raph’s eyes. “Raph? Are you back with us?”

“Of course I am, where else would I be?” Raph replies, and Donnie practically melts as the tension floods out of him, slumping over and resting his forehead on Raph’s plastron with a sigh; behind him, Leo’s shoulders relax and he closes his eyes as he, too, sighs with relief.

Nonplussed, Raph rubs Donnie’s head soothingly (is Donnie crying? he wonders when he feels drops falling on his chest, Donnie never cries) and looks to the left automatically to check in on his remaining brother – and blinks in surprise when he sees no one standing there. “Wait, what happened, where’s Mi–”

Images suddenly rush through his brain, jumbled and half hazy, but no less horrifying: wide blue eyes, flashes of metal, trails of blood, the edge of a building–

Raph pushes Don aside and barely rolls over in time, just managing to hang his head over the edge of the exam table before he loses the battle with nausea and vomits.

“Wow, this is amazing! I should’ve brought a camera – look at all the colors!”

Raph is so shocked at the unexpected voice he nearly pitches forward off the roof; he manages to stabilize himself before twisting around to look at the brother who caught him so off guard.

Mikey doesn’t pay him any attention – he’s staring up at the color-streaked sky, drinking in the sight of the sunset turning the familiar New York skyline into a darkened silhouette, dotted with more and more lights as the sunlight fades away.

Raph feels his stomach churn again at the sight of his baby brother – more specifically, at the cast on his right leg going from ankle to mid-thigh; the splint on his right arm and the crutch propped under his left armpit; the multitude of bruises, nicks, and cuts all across his arms and legs; the ring of marks around his neck; the deep blue-black bruise that covers half his face and has swollen his left eye shut; the bandages wrapped tightly around the lower part of his torso.

Mikey grins widely – well, as widely as he can with a broken cheekbone – as he turns his gaze from the sunset to his brother. He’s not wearing his mask, either; the evening light makes the bruising on his face contrast even further with his pale skin. “You’ve been holding out on me, Raph – this is like the coolest place to watch the sunset!”

“What are you doing here, shell-for-brains?” Raph demands, leaping to his feet as his temper – and his concern for his brother – flares.

“Hello, Raph, nice to see you, too,” Mikey says, taking a few hobbling steps in Raph’s direction. He stops moving when he notices Raph tensing up and lightly adds, “That’s what brothers should say when they haven’t seen each other in a few days.”

Raph crosses his arms, hunching his shoulders defensively. Mikey kept any accusation out of his voice, but Raph can still hear the underlying hurt, anyway. He’s always been able to read Mikey like a book – which is part of the problem. Even now, almost three weeks after waking up, Mikey is still moving stiffly, trying to hide his pain whenever his older brothers or Sensei are around keeping an eye on him (which is always). He’s tried hard, but none of them have been fooled – they all know Mikey too well.

And it digs at Raph – not just because his vibrant brother is hobbling around like someone five times his age, but also because Raph’s the one that did that to him. And that knowledge hasn’t made Leo or Don any easier to live with, either; Leo’s in the dojo mediating or training practically every chance he gets, and Donnie’s been either living in his lab or keeping a close eye on Mikey, and they’ve both been tiptoeing around Raph, hesitant to say anything for fear of breaking the awkward tension in the lair and making everything worse.

Not that Raph blames them in the slightest. They weren’t the ones to go out and get captured by Shredder; they weren’t the ones to get dosed with Shredder’s new mind control serum; they weren’t the ones who had attacked their own family with every intention of wiping them out; they weren’t the ones who attacked the youngest, beat and stabbed him, and nearly sent him plummeting to his death.

No, that’s all on Raph. Which is why he left. He’d screwed up before, but this. This goes against everything he’s grown up believing. He’d believed that with enough strength and enough training, he could keep his family safe. He’d believed that with enough determination, he would be able to keep any enemies away and keep his brothers – the most important people in his life, the ones he would die to protect – from ever getting hurt.

Instead, he had failed to the point of near disaster. He’d attacked his family; he’d given Master Splinter a concussion; he’d forced Leo to face the reality of having to choose a brother to save; he’d nearly given Donnie a heart attack from all the stress in trying to develop a cure; he’d put Mikey in a freaking coma for two weeks.

Raph can’t let them get hurt again – not when he can do something about it.

So he’d left early in the morning three days ago, before anyone else was awake, and he’d stayed away ever since. He thought he’d been doing a pretty good job of staying away, too, moving around from hideout to hideout. And yet, it obviously wasn’t good enough, since his baby brother is now standing in front of him. “How’d you even find me?” he demands.

“Casey,” Mikey replies simply, resting a little more of his weight on his crutch; his grin shifts into a crooked smirk. “Asked him about some of the places you guys like to hang out, and he sang like a canary – barely had to lay any hurt on him at all, bro, so I hope you haven’t told him any secrets you don’t want getting out.”

Raph scowls – not at the thought of Casey ratting him out, but at the knowledge that Casey only talked because Mikey is hurt. No one can resist Mikey for long when he wants to know something – especially if he’s hurt. “You shouldn’t be out of bed, Mikey, you should be resting, you nearly died–”

Blue eyes stare at him; one is already swelling shut. He growls, tightening the grip he has around his enemy’s neck, causing the other to choke and splutter.

Cool, blood-slicked hands grip his forearm. But they don’t claw at him or try to break his chokehold; they just rest there, firm and calm. Almost reassuring, even.

“It’s – it’s okay,” the other gasps, mouth curling in a weak attempt at a smile; the blue eyes are warm, despite the tell-tale lines of pain on his face. “This isn’t your – your fault. I’m sorry, and I love you, bro.”

Behind him, a gasp and footsteps rushing toward him – breaking the moment. Firming his resolve. “Oh shell– Raphael, no, don’t – put him down!”

He smirks; looks down at the edge of the building in front of him, the open air beneath the other’s feet. “As you wish.”

“NO!”

“Raph?”

Raph blinks, and the image shifts from the memory of Mikey dropping out of sight and Leo diving after him to the sight of Mikey standing right in front of him, confused, worried, and so horribly injured that Raph can hardly look at him. Raph takes a step back instinctively, then two – keeping his youngest brother as far from danger as possible, like he always does.

Only this time, it’s Raph that’s the danger.

“Stay away from me, Mikey,” he warns, working hard to keep all emotion out of his voice; he fails when it cracks a little on his brother’s name. He turns away, preparing to leap to the next rooftop and disappear into the shadows. “You need to stay away.”

“What? No, Raph, wait – oh, shell!”

Raph wheels back around at the shout in time to see Mikey stumble as the crutch, which had caught on something loose on the rooftop, skids out from under him. In a flash, Raph’s there, grabbing his brother around his shoulders and hauling him upright before he can fall to his knees and damage his broken leg further. Mikey hisses in pain, curling his splinted right arm around his stomach as all the sudden movement jostles the still-healing gashes in his plastron.

Raph feels bile and panic rising at the thought that he’s causing his brother pain again, and he starts to pull away. “I’m so sorry, Mikey, I–”

A hand grips his forearm, and Raph freezes as he stares at it; it’s like his flashback, but it isn’t – this time the hand isn’t cool and slick from blood loss, but warm and clean and alive.

“It wasn’t your fault, Raph.”

Raph looks from the hand to his brother’s face. Even with the bruise marring half his face and the pain that he’s undoubtedly feeling, judging by the tightness around his eyes, Mikey is still smiling, his unblackened eye shining with warmth and affection and hero-worship – the same look he’s always reserved for his older brothers.

Raph’s throat closes up and he closes his eyes; he doesn’t deserve that look anymore, not after all that’s happened. “Of course it is, Mikey,” he chokes out. “Look at what I did. You – you were in a coma for weeks!”

The hand on his arm tightens. “Raphael. It wasn’t your fault,” Mikey stresses. There’s a brief pause; Mikey sighs, and his voice is notably rougher when he quietly adds, “It was mine.”

Raph’s eyes fly open; he’s stunned to see the guilty slump to Mikey’s shoulders, the regret on his face. “What are you talking about?”

Mikey swallows. “Do you remember why you left the lair in the first place? Before Shredder grabbed you?”

Raph shakes his head. Donnie had asked the same question not too long after he had administered the cure he’d developed for Shredder’s mind control serum, and a few more times throughout the second week of Mikey’s coma. Raph only remembers bits and pieces of the month he’d been under Shredder’s control, and the entire week before that is completely gone – a side effect of Shredder’s serum, most likely, or maybe of Donnie’s cure.

Considering that everything Raph does remember so far is attacking his brothers, beating Mikey within an inch of his life, and nearly killing Leo in their final encounter, Raph isn’t sure he wants to remember much more.

“We had a fight,” Mikey says quietly, scuffing his unbroken leg in the gravel on the rooftop and keeping his gaze focused on the ground. “A real one. It was – well, it doesn’t really matter what it was about. But you – it was my fault, and I made you so mad that you left, said you were going to hang out with Casey, only.” He pauses and swallows again. “Only you never made it.”

Raph’s forehead furrows. “Mikey–”

Suddenly his arms are full of little brother as Mikey hugs him, arms wrapping tightly around Raph’s neck. Raph returns the hug instinctively, keeping his grip loose for fear of causing Mikey any more pain.

Mikey never stops talking, the words just coming out faster and faster as he says, “You were gone for two days, and we were just so worried, and I thought maybe you thought I meant it, that I didn’t want you around anymore. And then you were on that roof, and I was so relieved because you had come back – but it wasn’t you, it was Shredder using you, and I was so scared that Donnie wouldn’t be able to bring you back, that you were gone forever, and that the last thing you heard me say to you was that I hated you, that I was glad you were leaving, that I hoped you never came back, and it’s all my fault!”

“Hey,” Raph says gruffly, pulling back just far enough to grab Mikey by the shoulders and give him a gentle shake. Mikey sniffs, his unbruised eye wide and watery with unshed tears. Raph ducks his head a little so that they’re at the exact same eye level as he says, “I may not remember us arguing – though knowing us, I’m sure it was something really stupid – but I sure as shell know you’d never say something like that and mean it. I know better than that.”

Mikey huffs a laugh, swiping at his face impatiently as the tears slip out, and says firmly, “And I know better than to ever think you’d want to hurt me – or Leo, or Donnie, or anybody that wasn’t trying to hurt us first.”

Raph frowns at that, eyeing all the bandages Mikey is currently sporting. “But, I–”

“Raphael,” Mikey says, his voice stern and his face as serious as Raph has ever seen it, “if it had been Donnie who had gotten brainwashed and attacked you under Shred-head’s orders instead, would you blame him?”

“Absolutely not,” Raph replies without a thought. Then he blinks in realization as Mikey grins at him, and he sighs, shaking his head ruefully. “Alright, fine. I see your point. I’ll deny this if you ever tell anyone, but you win this round, Mikey.”

Mikey chuckles, but his expression quickly grows serious again. “So will you come back home? We – well, it wasn’t pretty, waking up and finding out you were gone again, even with the note you left.”

Raph opens his mouth to reply when another voice suddenly calls out, “Mikey, for the love of – Leo! I found them!”

They turn to see Don pulling himself up and over the edge of the building from his perch on the fire escape. “Are you guys okay?” he asks, sprinting over to them, glancing from Mikey to Raph and back, trying to see if they have any new injuries.

“I’m fine, he’s the one that’s supposed to be camped out on the couch,” Raph says as he nudges Mikey’s shoulder, smirking when Mikey sticks his tongue out at him, and claps a hand on Donnie’s shoulder when he joins them. “Mikey tripped, though, think he might have tweaked something – probably better check him over.”

“Raph,” Mikey moans as Donnie immediately goes into doctor mode, checking to see if any of the bandages have started seeping blood again or have come loose, ignoring his brother when Mikey starts whining. Raph chuckles and takes a half-step back, giving his brainiac brother some room to work.

Then Leo appears next to them, and Raph’s shoulders tense at the inscrutable look on his brother’s face. Leo’s eyes are narrowed slightly, and his mouth is turned down in a frown, and Raph braces himself for the punch he deserves when Leo spreads his arms –

And then suddenly he’s engulfed once again in a hug – which is weird in and of itself, Raph and Leo don’t tend to hug much anymore – but then Leo’s grip tightens as Raph hugs him back, and Raph could swear Leo is shaking, like he’d been afraid or something.

Raph thinks about what Mikey was saying, and it clicks. Right – Raph disappearing last time hadn’t ended so well, either. Leo had probably worried Raph would relapse or something –

“I’m sorry,” Leo says suddenly, “for making you feel like you had to leave, that wasn’t – I’m so glad you’re alright, believe me, I am, but every time I see you, or see Mikey, I just get so mad that all I want to do is go track down Shredder and make him pay for what he did to you, for what he made you do.”

And despite how wrong Leo is about everything – nothing about this is his fault – Raph can’t help but feel reassured by the normalcy of it. As sad and messed up as it might be, things don’t seem quite right if Leo’s not beating himself up about something.

“I hear you on that last part,” Raph replies as Leo pulls away, “but bro, this isn’t your fault – you’ve never made me do anything I didn’t want to do before, and you aren’t starting now.”

Leo laughs, rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah, I guess not. I’m just glad you’re okay – both of you,” he adds, looking over at Mikey. “He is okay, right, Donnie?”

“He is, but he won’t be after I’m through with him,” Donnie replies, reaching for the crutch lying on the ground at Mikey’s feet. “What were you thinking, Mikey, I told you we’d find Raph – you’re supposed to be at home! How’d you even get up here?”

Raph blinks. “That’s a good question – how did you get up here, Mikey?”

Mikey rolls his good eye theatrically, pointing at himself. “Uh, hel-lo. Ninja. Duh.”

Donnie snorts as the others laugh. “Oh, by the way,” he says suddenly, pulling out something that was tucked into his belt, “you forgot this, Raph.”

And there, fluttering in the evening breeze, is Raph’s mask. Raph feels the knot in his chest – there since he first saw Mikey lying comatose in bed, now even larger after leaving the lair – loosen as he takes the fabric from his brother’s hand and ties it around his face, his fingers forming the knot with practiced ease.

When he looks up again, the sunset has largely faded, but his brothers are there, smiling at him, and it’s like a piece of him that was knocked out of alignment has fallen back into place, and for the first time in weeks, he thinks he might sleep well tonight.

“Come on, guys,” he says, smiling back at them. “Let’s go home.”