Judgement Day

Summary: Raphael tells the story of how Donatello inadvertently and unknowingly saved his life. Prequel to "Sick."

Author's Note: I had people ask for it in the reviews. So I wrote a prequel to my previous TMNT fic entitled "Sick," describing Donnie's inner struggle with himself. By the by, I forgot to mention: In the sequel to this story, Mikey and Raph talk about cartoons. On a personal note, that's basically my sentiments. Anyone else here miss being able to watch the OLD Ninja Turtles on CBS? Or am I just too old for my own good...

Release. Cold, sweet release. I threw my head back and smiled as the water rushed over my open wounds. Red swirls tangled itself into the water, spinning down the sink, diving, drowning, dying... This was the best part.

There was something pounding in my head. I was stirred from my reverie and blinked towards the door.

"Open up, Raph, you've been in there an hour already!"

I closed my eyes and turned off the tap, feeling the familiar sting in my wrists as the cold numbness the running water had instilled in me dissolved like my blood in the sink. Bitterly, I draped an old towel over my arms and opened the door.

"You just can't be patient, can you Mikey?" I said with a wry grin. Mikey seemed to be dancing from one foot to the next.

"Gotta go!" he said with a whimper, pushing past me and slamming the door in my face. I smiled and shook my head.

When I got to the room I was disappointed to see that the blood had stained the towel. Just something else I had to wash. I reached for my crimson arm bands and put one on each of my forearms. I found they were helpful at hiding and drying my scars. The interior cotton was rough and matted with dry blood, but it didn't matter. I chose the color mainly because blood stains wouldn't look so suspicious, but it helped that it was my favorite color. It backed up my cover story.

"It's a fashion statement!"

Splinter hadn't minded since it didn't interfere with my movements when fighting. Although Mikey had pointed out that turtles weren't really the New York trend-setters. But days later, for a period of time, he wore his own arm bands, orange to match his mask, and proudly showed them off to our brothers. I had to shake my head and laugh, though it depressed me somewhat that he'd chosen me as something of a role model.

Each day I'd lock myself inside my room and slap around a punching bag. I even tried some of that automatic writing stuff, stream of consciousness type of thing. It didn't work. It always came out in scribbles or random letters that made no sense.

I'd just try to do anything to keep my mind off my miserable life.

None of them understood me. Not a single one. Leo, with his overbearing, "I rule the world" attitude thought he could order me to shape up and stay focused. Mikey, with his own naive concept of "everyone loves Ren and Stimpy" strapped me to the sofa for three hours straight after he rented the entire first season on DVD. I can't sleep at night now, because I'm afraid I'm going to be attacked by an ugly fat cat and a naked dog. Don pretty much stayed out of it, all though a lot of the time he tried to tell me what I was thinking. Which was always wrong. Although occasionally, I'd smile and say "Yeah, Donnie, that's it." Just to get him to shut up.

I wish I could relate to just one of them, so I could spend more than five minutes with them without getting irked out of my mind.

... Love 'em? Sure I do. What kind of a turtle do you think I am? Who doesn't love his own brothers. There are just times when I swear, I just don't care what they do anymore. I've reached such a state of apathy that nothing that happens to them jolts any sort of nerve in me whatsoever. Mikey could miss a step and slip on a banana peel and I'd laugh half-heartedly, if I reacted at all. Donnie could take over the world with some new robot he'd invented, and I'd see it on TV and change the channel. Leo could train so much he kills himself with a stroke and I wouldn't do more than shrug.

I suppose that's not all true. Maybe I just wish it were. If something bad were to happen to any of them, I probably would react. Badly. I'd go on a killing spree. That one's not an exaggeration. I'd seriously go up to the surface and start slicing heads off. I have no doubt that I would.

At the end of it, I'd probably kill myself.

The only reason I put up with this crummy life I guess is that dopey smile on Mikey's face. Donnie's thoughtfulness to ask if I'm OK and mean it. Hell, even Leo's chastisements, laced with the unconditional love in insults still tends to tug at something inside me, something buried beneath my ice-cold heart.

If anything happened to anyone of them, Armageddon would come the next day, and I would be the Antichrist.

I pulled back my armbands, just so see how deep the razor cut this time. Dozens of tiny incision scattered my forearms in neat horizontal nicks up and down it, like tallies on a jail cell wall.

I really didn't care anymore. I could relate to no one. I always seemed to screw up Leo's perfect attack plans and let the bad guy go because I can't control myself. I continuously mock Mikey in hopes that it would make my heart somewhat lighter, but I always feel guilty in the end. And Donnie... I just don't get Donnie. I've let everyone down. Every day, it seems there's an ounce more disappointment in Splinter's eyes. I just can't take this anymore.

"What are you doing?"

I turned around and instantly pulled my armbands back down.

"What are you doing in my room?" I retorted at my blue-masked brother. Leo looked at me with stern eyes.

"You're fifteen minutes late for practice," Leo said. I looked at him in furious confusion.

"Don't be ridiculous, it's only..." But I faltered when I caught sight of the clock. Had I really been in my room for three hours thinking about this crap? Sighing, I resigned myself to Leo's rage and hung my head, waiting for it.

To my surprise, it never came. I glanced up at him, but he merely stood there, stoic and strong, as if mocking my weak pose. This only enraged me further.

"Well are you going to snap at me about punctuality?" I hissed. He looked at me quizzically a moment, and then seemed to decide it wasn't worth it.

"You were late," he said. "Now we both are. Now get your ass to the living room." And with that he turned and left.

Living room? I thought to myself, but decided not to question it. It was one of the briefest castigations Leo'd ever given me.

Half-heartedly, I followed him out of my room, dragging my feet all the way down the hall.

When we arrived, Don and Mikey were battling weapon-free, in a hand-to-hand close combat exercise. When they noticed us, Mikey turned his head to say hi when Don swiped him in stomach with a swing kick.

"OW, DUDE!" Mikey screamed, keeling over. Don looked so embarrassed, it seemed like he wanted to run under the couch and hide.

"Oops," he said, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry, Mikey, my bad. Didn't realize you weren't looking."

It was all I could do to keep from laughing. But something deep inside me dared to ask my conscious mind: "What are you laughing at? Leo isn't laughing. Don and Mikey sure as hell aren't laughing. So what gives you the right to laugh, you bastard?" It was true. There was nothing remotely comical about the scene, and yet I found it fucking hilarious. Maybe I had lost my soul. I just didn't care.

I took a deep breath and held it a moment.

"You ready?" Leo was looking at me with cold eyes. Fatigued before I even started, I released the air that had swelled in my lungs.

Pulling out my sais and taking up battle position, I dared him with my eyes.

"I'm always ready," I said. He looked at my sais disapprovingly.

"Put those down," he said. "We're working up to weapon battle today because we haven't done concentration exercises in a while. You always leap right into things, so we're going to do it right today. Starting with some meditation to focus, and then some balance exercises. Then we do the combat. You missed the first fifteen minutes, so I'll walk you through it all again."

I was furious, but put away my sais nonetheless. "What good is that?" I fumed. "It's not like we'll have time to get warmed up in an actual showdown."

"No," said Leo. "But we do have the time now."

"Where's Splinter?" I demanded. "He'll talk some sense into you."

"I agree with Leonardo," said Splinter on the couch with some herbal tea as he watched some show on the TV. "It is good to prepare yourself before battle. Now please try and keep the shouting to the minium. I am trying to watch my favorite television program."

"Splinter's taking a personal day," Leo said with a lopsided grin. "I'm in charge today."

This was an outrage. That's why we were in the living room. So Splinter could keep his beady little eye on us and watch his show at the same time. And Leo's in charge. How typical. "Can he do that?" I said in a course whisper to my older brother. Leo shrugged.

"I can, and I am," said Splinter, taking a bite out of a rice cake. I flinched.

"You weren't supposed to hear that," I said, casting him a sideways glance.

"Now," Leo said, in that take-control manner I'd come to despise. "Sit down and I'll talk you through the first mediation exercise..." This was ridiculous. I didn't need to be talked through anything, meditation or otherwise. I didn't need warmup exercises to be prepared to fight. And if they did, then that just meant I was better than them.

Leo threw down his katanas and sat on the straw mat on the floor. I didn't move. He looked at me skeptically. "Aren't you ready?"

I fingered the sais at my belt with an evil grin scuttling across my lips like a cockroach. "I told you, Leo," I said, half-mockingly. "I was born ready."

And without further warning, I launched at him with a fierce battle cry, sais now withdrawn. But he rolled on the floor out of my way and quickly collected his long swords, with the lightning-quick reflexes of a cat.

A giant, mutant, turtle-looking cat, I thought snidely and begrudgingly.

I jumped at him again, but this time, he held my sais with his katanas, and I desperately tried to shatter those damn swords with the insane force I'd never have the energy to muster. As I sat there on top of him, my teeth clenched and eyes narrowed, he looked up at me in fierce concentration, his eyes deep and black.

"What... are... you... doing, Raph?" he said, his voice strained with the strength he was using to keep me off of him.

"Proving that I never gotta listen to you again!" I returned, my face still set. His eyes narrowed and for a moment, they seemed infinite, as dark and deep as the universe swirling in on itself...

With strength that seemed to come from nowhere, he threw me off of him and leapt to his feet while I remained on my shell on the floor, briefly stunned. He looked down at me, panting.

"You might be stronger than me," he said, his breathing heavy. "But I will always beat you."

I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. How dare he say that to me.

"How dare you!" I shrieked, jumping to my feet as well and threatening him with one sai.

"Listen... Raphael... I didn't mean it like that," Leo tried to cover, speaking slowly, his voice calm.

By now, I realized that we had an audience. I was vaguely aware of Mikey and Don's eyes on us, and had even noticed that the TV had long since been silenced. More than anything, I could feel Splinter's shrewd black eyes burning two twin holes into the back of my skull.

"All I'm saying is," Leo went on, "I will always beat you if you don't listen to reason. I'm just trying to teach you how to use your strength constructively instead of using it as an outlet. You have to learn the importance of concentration. Get your act together, man. You know that rage isn't a reliable source of strength. Emotions can't get in the way of your fighting, you know that. It distracts you from what's really going on. What's wrong with you? You're always losing focus in training and battle. It's like we can't count on you anymore, Raph! And I can't just sit here and let you slack off. It could cost one of us our lives."

I sneered at him, more enraged with him then I'd ever been before. "Hopefully, it'll be you who pays that price," I said spitefully. He seemed to flinch, curtly and involuntarily, but his eyes betrayed nothing. His voice seemed harder to control.

"I..." He blinked and collected himself. "Listen, I just think you should..."

"NO!" I yelled, brandishing my two weapons like a lunatic. "I am sick of hearing what you think I should do! It's my God damn life, OK? I can do whatever the hell I want with it, and it doesn't concern any of you so none of you–" and I addressed the assembled crowd now, pointing a sai at each one, "–should think of trying to tell me how to run it." My hand quivered as I hesitated on Splinter, who had long ago abandoned his favorite program to watch the fight unfolding in his livingroom. He was gazing at me inscrutably and I wished more than anything in the world at that moment just to know what he was thinking. But I shook off that fruitless desire and continued with my rant, my attention swiveling back to Leonardo, who stood his ground before my verbal onslaught. "You think you got me all figured out. Well I'm telling you, I'm through! I'm through with all of this. I don't know why I put up with any of it anymore, hell there's no reason for it! I'm done." I sighed and my arms dropped to my sides, sais still in hand. I took a moment, then looked up at them all again and spoke in an icy hiss more chilling than my shouting. "You all make me sick, but you won't bother me any more after today. And I'll no longer be a burden to you. I'm done, I'm gone. I hate you all."

I stood there, trembling a moment as the words that I said sank in. They weren't words I'd been meaning to say, but my rage seemed to unlock some door to my subconscious and thoughts and feelings ravaged my brothers with verbal daggers I never even knew I had.

I was the only one there who realized the full meaning of my words. I had unintentionally made a fatal promise. But at that moment, I was so ready. I was so ready. Skip the righteous rampage on the surface, I was going straight for the grand finale. The Antichrist indeed.

Yes, I made a promise to them that day and I had every intention of fulfilling it.

I relaxed my tense stance, and my sais fell to the floor. I flexed my fists open and closed, feeling my muscles working. The fight had gotten my blood flowing and my wounds were bleeding again, I could feel it under my armbands. Instinctively, I glanced at Mikey, who was still wearing his beloved orange fashion statement around his forearms. I gave a twisted smile and my eyes roved up to his face. Mikey's eyes were wide, but his mouth was straight and set. When he registered that I was looking at him, his eyes seemed to grow even wider in horror as his mouth opened slightly. I shook my head sadly.

"Let it be, Mikey," I said, my voice barely audible. "Take off those ridiculous things on your arms and just let it be."

With a sigh, I made my way towards him and he gulped nervously. I pushed him by the shoulder so he'd move out of the way of the door and he jumped aside.

And that's it. I just left. For once, I really couldn't care less about any of them, and I meant it.

I roamed the sewers aimlessly, searching for the source of the rushing water that seemed to be blaring in my eardrums. I would open my wounds one last time and one last time, I would let the water rush over them to induce that beloved numbness. And then I would swallow my pride and breathe in the cold.

"Raphael?"

I spun around at the timid voice, totally caught unawares and at my wits end. My eyes blazed with fury.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded, hissing threateningly. But Donatello merely looked at me with sad eyes. He tilted his head to the side.

"When you left, Mikey said the most innocent thing, you'd never believe," said Don. This was unexpected and the bafflement must have showed in my face because Don gave me a funny smile.

"What'd he say," I grumbled, trying to hide my curiosity behind my beloved apathy.

"'Raph's not gonna leave us, is he?'" Don said simply, putting no emotion to the quote at all. Still, devoid of emotion, I knew what it must have sounded like coming from Michelangelo's mouth and I instantly felt a pang of guilt.

"What'd you say?" I mumbled again.

"Leo told him to stop being ridiculous," said Don. "But he was pretty torn up himself. He just does a better job of hiding it than Mikey. But I could tell."

"But... what did you say?" I repeated. I wasn't interested in what Leo had to say. But apparently, Don was stuck on him.

"Do you know what you said to him back there?" Don said. "I mean, to all of us?"

I was silent. Don closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Leo just wants to help you get better," said Don. "He wants to impress upon you that life has many responsibilities. And one of yours is your training..." Don paused and bit his lip a moment before continuing. "And... He loves you. Why'd you say what you did? You looked at him with such loathing... Do you know how much it hurts to hear someone you love tell you that he hates you?"

I snorted disdainfully and Don glared at me.

"Why don't you get it?" he said in utter disappointment. For some reason, that touched a nerve in my untouchable heart.

"What'd you say?" I said, my voice and disposition softening. Donnie looked at me in confusion. I gave him a lopsided smile. "To Mikey when he asked that question." Don smiled.

"Actions speak louder than words," said Don. "I didn't say anything before I ran after you. I knew I had to, or I'd lose you forever."

You don't know how right you were... I thought to myself. My thoughts turned to the swirling water. It was so near now, I could hear it like a waterfall. Just one more turn and I would have gotten there and jumped off into the whirlpool of sinners.

Somehow, as I thought about it at that particular moment, the thought struck terror into the very fibers of my being and I shivered.

"What's wrong, Raph?" Don asked with incredible sincerity as he placed his hand on my shoulder. I sighed and closed my eyes. I couldn't look at him.

"Leave me alone," I said in a defeated whisper.

"Why'd you run out on us?" Don pressed. I tore myself away from his touch, for the warmth that generated from his fingers bothered me. I turned my back to him and I could feel him staring at my shell.

"I just wanted to be alone, so just leave me alone–"

"You're never alone!" said Don, grabbing me by the shoulder again and spinning me around to face him. I was forced to look deep into his eyes and saw the terror beneath his calm facade. He was terrified for me. It was in that moment that I realized he deeply cared. But for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why. I had treated him and the rest of my brothers so horribly, I was amazed that he still...

I shook my head. Those thoughts only cluttered it with useless guilt. Had I really hurt Donnie as deep as his eyes told?

"You gotta come back," said Donatello, more of a desperate plea than an order. "You have to. Or..." He sighed and looked at his feet. "I know you don't want to. We may irk you sometimes, but... But you got a responsibility to us whether you like it or not. You may not realize it, but it's true. Life's full of hidden responsibilities like that. And you have one to me."

I looked up at him, waiting.

And that is...

But he didn't answer my unspoken question. He merely shook his head, his eyes full of hopelessness. God, what had I done? "You gotta come back..." was all he said. "God, Raph, please, you have to."

It was then that I understood that if I hadn't hurt Donatello and the others enough yet, I would definitely finish them off if I lost my mind to the water.

I had once told myself that if anyone had hurt any one of my brothers, I would make sure they died a slow and painful death. And yet, the plan for myself was a quick death to end all pain. Hardly the punishment for a murderer.

"You're killing me, here, Raph," said Don, as if reading my thoughts. I knew then that I had to keep on going with this life. I told Leo and the others back in the lair that there was nothing left for me. That was a lie. There were four damn good reasons for me to keep going. I'd told myself that they were the only reasons I woke up in the morning. And it was as true then as it ever was and ever will be.

Donatello's strangely sensitive perception. He seemed always to know what I was thinking, and he wouldn't give up on me no matter how I begged. He would never let me run away. He wouldn't stop me with physical force, but with that desperate look in his eyes that he was giving me now. Nothing would ever make me hurt him. Not even my own crummy life could make me turn on him for good.

Michelangelo's crazy antics never ceased to amaze me, each one being more outrageous than the last. His uncontrollable craving for pizza that seemed to be omnipresent. Though he irked me, the lair would be a lot quieter without him, and a lot more dismal. He often was the buffer between Leo and I when we argued, distracting us with a stupid comment or telling us to cool our jets. And really... inwardly... never outwardly... I always laughed at his jokes.

Master Splinter. There are times when I wonder why he puts up with me. It's not like he's required to. But then, I realize, he is. He took me in as his own son and has raised me, and is the only father I've ever known. He is my father. And I am his son. Whenever I have trouble remembering that, I always remember the unconditional tolerance he has for my insane behavior. I marvel at the strength in him that I will never be able to possess.

And then there was Leo. Leonardo was probably the thing that sealed the deal. God, his personality was one I clashed with, but without that rigorous A-type in our group, we'd all die. I know it as well as the next turtle. Leonardo's know-how has saved our skins in more occasions than I can count, whether directly or indirectly. He was my only older brother, and I loved him for it. And I loved the way he thought he could save us all from everything, just like his naive belief that he could save the world.

We can't all save the world... I thought to myself. Sometimes I opt to destroy it.

"There is a life for you here," said Donatello slowly, pointedly. "We love you, Raphael. Every last one of us cares about you so much, you don't realize. And I can't believe your so blind that you can't see that without you, everything, our entire world, would just fall to pieces. You'd kill us, Raphael." I damn well knew I would too. "Don't you care?"

"I just..." I started and sighed. "I don't want to let you down anymore..." I whispered, unable to meet his eye. Donatello's eyes softened.

"Oh God, Raph," he said. "Let us down? The only way you could let us down would be by leaving us here. Raphael, you have a family here. You never see me, but I'm always there, right beside you. I'm here for you, Raph, always, like I know you're there for me. And I'll never let you down. So long as you promise never to run away."

I never will again, I swore to myself.

I gave him a strange smile. "Don... Thanks," I said. I didn't know what else to say. There was so much more I longed to tell him, so much more that I was thinking, all my reasons for living... But all I said was, "Are Leo and Splinter mad at me?"

Don laughed and shook his head, gesturing down the sewer pipe. "They just don't want to lose you. Come on, I bet they'd love to see you."

I looked at him skeptically. "Somehow I doubt that," I said. "After I threw Leo to the floor and all."

Don gave me a strange smile that to this day I don't understand. "You just won't try to understand him, will you?"

I was silent. I loved Leo, but I knew Don was right. If I understood him, and his own personal insanity, combined with my own, I'd really go nuts.

The others were all sitting on various places in the living room, all facing away from the door. At the sight of him, an immediate raw fear struck me and I grabbed Don and pulled him back out.

"I can't do this," I told him desperately. The thought that I'd nearly thrown my life away, that minutes ago I couldn't have given a damn about them, and the realization of how deeply I'd scarred them all impressed upon me that horrible guilty terror a criminal has before seeing the jury read their inevitable verdict.

Don merely nodded, understanding.

"I'll take you in another way," he said. He turned to leave, but I bit my lip. I was half-hoping Don would force me into the living room to confront them. Realizing I wasn't following, he turned with a smug smile. "I knew you'd see it my way."

Not quite sure of the reverse psychology my crazy younger brother just pulled on me, I entered the lair with Donatello right by my side, a position he promised to always retain.

No one looked up upon hearing my entry.

"Looks like they don't want to talk to me, I'm gone," I hissed through gritted teeth to Donnie, while turning on my heals. He caught the edge of my shell and pulled me back.

"Oh no you don't," he said.

Mikey looked up from a comic book he was reading upon hearing our small scuffle. His face lit up.

"Don, ya found him!" he declared. Splinter, who seemed to have been napping in a chair, opened his eyes abruptly and I realized he hadn't been sleeping at all. His whiskers twitched and I swore he almost smiled at me, but his face remained impassive.

"Welcome home, my son," he said to me, nodding his head.

Mikey leapt up and threw his arms around me. My eyes widened in utter horror as I silently begged Don to get him off me. But Don shook his head. I should have known.

"Dude, I'm so glad you didn't leave! Cuz if you did, who would watch old episodes of Alf with me late at night?"

"Uh, I was kinda hoping Leo would take my place on that..." I muttered truthfully. I hated that ugly alien almost as much as I hated his cartoon cousins, Ren and Stimpy.

It was then that I realized Leo hadn't spoken a word.

As Mikey finally released me from his death grip, I instantly looked at Leo, who was still pretending to be lost in some book. I walked up behind the couch and looked over his shoulder.

"So, uh... whatchyou reading?" I said, awkwardly.

"'Catcher in the Rye,'" he replied succinctly.

Funny, that's one of my favorite books...

"I didn't know you were reading that..." I said, looking over Leo's shoulder as I read about how Holden asked the taxi driver about the ducks.

"I wasn't," he said.

A bitter chill ran down my spine. Ignoring it, I went around the couch and sat down next to him.

"So, uh, how you liking it so far?"

Finally, Leo looked up at me with a satirical grin. "I just started when you ran out. But I guess you're a bit like the main character. Always running, but never sure of where he's going."

"You haven't got that far yet. Holden knows where he's going," I said. "He just doesn't wanna go there."

"And neither do you," said Leo, perceptively. I was silent.

"Leo..." I started. Gathering the words, I took a deep breath and let them tumble out. "Look, I'm sorry about all that back there... I... don't hate you. Really. You're..." Admirable? Talented? Solid? Heroic? "Annoying."

Leo laughed.

"As are you," he said with an encouraging and loving smile. I returned his smile, knowing we must be reading each others thoughts.

"Yeah..." I said. "Annoying. But... You're my brother. You'll always be my brother. And no matter how much I may dislike it sometimes, I can't change that."

And really, even if I could, I wouldn't for all the money in the world.

"Look, Raph, stop talking," said Leo, closing the book. "Whatever you say I'll just repeat. Let's just say it's in the past and the feeling's mutual. Deal?"

He held out his hand in a very formal fashion. I had the urge to gather him up in a huge brotherly hug, bigger than the one Mikey had just given me. But I relented. It's not my style.

I took his handshake and somehow, it meant a lot more than the biggest hug in the world.

Don folded his arms, satisfied and smug, knowing this whole reunion was mainly his doing and not being humble about it in the least.

"How about we celebrate with something special," said Mikey, coming up from behind us and bending over to stick his head between ours and throw an arm around each of us. "How about... Pizza. Your choice of toppings. What do you say, Raph? Leo?"

Leo and I looked at each other, challenging one another with our eyes.

At the exact same moment, we turned and gave Mikey our orders, which somehow ended up contradicting each other word for word. Overwhelmed, Mikey backed away.

"OK, how about just cheese tonight, yeah?"

Don laughed a hardy laugh. Leo closed his eyes with a content smile and shrugged. But I shook my head.

"Nuh uh," I said. "I want my stuffed crust with peppers, olives and pepperoni."

Leo scoffed. "Pepperoni is so overrated. It's sausage you want. And stuffed crust is greasy. The olives are stale and I hate peppers."

"Their sausage tastes nasty!" I retorted.

I don't remember what kind of topping we actually settled on that night. I think Don and Mikey ended up making a compromise between the two of them. All I know is it didn't have any peppers, olives or pepperoni.

That was the last time I remembered the last time Donatello really happy. A few months later, I started to noticed that he his laughs were a little quieter, his smiles a little wanner, and his spirit just a little bit broken.

It was then that I finally understood my responsibility to Donatello and the rest of my brothers that he'd tried to tell me about that day. I had to save him from himself. But for the life of me, I didn't know how.

Author's Note: Raph strikes me as a Catcher fan. Don't ask me why. Hope this wasn't too forced, I hadn't entirely intended on making a prequel to Sick. But now, I'm almost contemplating on continuing with it a sequel, with a relapse on Don's part and Raph catching him. But I don't know. Do you think I should just let things be and not add anything to ruin it?