Disclaimer: I don't own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles; movies, video games, TV shows, etc.

Title: Recovering

Summary: Raph is trying his best to recover. Mikey wants his old brother back. Raph makes an attempt to show him he's still there. (Sequel to 'Freedom? Freedom.')

Author's Note: So... I actually wrote the prequel to this forever ago, and it's only just now I've actually gotten to typing the sequel. Whoops.

Anyway, for those who haven't read the first story, the basics are this; Raph was taken, for unknown reasons, as a slave in a fighter ring. His knowledge of language and letters was starting to fail him. An unknown amount of weeks/months/years (I happen to think years) Raph escaped, found his bothers, and has been trying to recover himself, both mentally and verbally.

Warings: Mention of blood and such.

...

All Mikey wanted was his brother. His feisty, short-tempered brother. Was that too much to ask?

Apparently so, he decided, kicking the door shut with a flair of irritation. All that he had now was the stranger who wore the skin of an old friend. "Raph? You awake?"

He heard a crash from the living room. Huh. He must've moved at some point while he was gone, which was strange, 'cause he hardly did anymore.

(Not that he still wasn't capable of killing him with his pinkie finger, or something. He just tended to stay in his room.)

He peered around the corner. Sure enough, there was Raph, curled up on the couch, head on his knees, staring straight ahead.

It was the closest he got to a welcome back, anymore. Mikey took what he could get.

"Hey Raph."

An amber eye slid his general direction. Either way, he didn't move.

"Today sucked. Got outnumbered. You would've had fun, though."

He flopped down beside him on the couch. Raph shifted- not away, per say, but instead to get comfortable, to show that he was listening.

"Yeah. Purple Dragons; your favorite. It's too bad you couldn't go. Maybe next time." He paused. "Definitely next time."

Raph's mouth twitched in a way that could be considered a smile. Then, it faded.

"So, uh, what do you want for dinner? I can cook anything you're in the mood for..."

Raph, in a surprising show of concern, slowly got to his feet and lumbered across the room. He returned with a pamphlet for pizza delivery.

"Pizza? You want pizza?" Raph set the pamphlets down on the table and returned to his spot on the couch. Mikey grinned. "This is just to make sure I'm not to tired to fight tomorrow, right?"

A shrug. Mikey was good with that.

Raph hadn't eaten much since his return, nor had he slept in his bed. He slept on the floor, or the couch, or anywhere but the bed, really. Donnie, the one time he had visited, had commented that it was completely natural, and that it would be a good idea to make sure he was getting his proper amount of vitamins and minerals, but otherwise it was best to give him some space.

Mikey did give him some space. A whole room of space he could go to when he wanted to be alone. If Raph didn't want him around, he made it perfectly clear.

Donnie had only visited once. Leo, well, he hadn't even seen him yet, and Raph had been back for months now. He always stayed just outside the door, never once had he tried to come inside. The look in Raph's eyes told him it bothered him more than Leo would right in front of him, stuttering out apologies and treating him like he was made of glass. And that was saying something.

April dropped by with an extra-large, super-stretchy hoodie to 'cover the battle wounds until they were healed.' Raph wore it like a security blanket. Casey came by at least once a week with a case of beer and stories of goons beaten and gang leaders pulverized, and how 'as soon as he was back on his feet, they were totally goin' on a run or two together, dude.' Raph quietly accepted the alcohol and listened to the stories with a semi-familiar gleam in his eye.

He still hadn't spoken a word to anybody. No one was all that sure where he'd come from, either. He just appeared once day, covered in blood, broken chains dangling from his hands, wrists, and neck.

From what they'd gathered, Raph had killed whoever was keeping him captive, along with any other souls who had been lingering around his prison before escaping into the night. Good. Less worrying that way.

Mikey knew it was Donnie before he even opened the door. Donnie was the only one of them who knocked before entering.

"How's he doing?"

"Better." He's eating more, at least. "All of his wounds have healed."

"Good, good." He nodded, then paused. "Has he...?"

"No."

Raph hadn't left the sewers in months. Hadn't so much as glanced at the exits. That was what worried Mikey the most; not the silence, not the lack of eye-contact, but his unwillingness to be free. He wasn't the kind of guy who could survive being caged.

"Hey Raph." Donnie was beside the couch. Mikey, too caught up in his thoughts, hadn't even seen him move. "Can I sit down?"

Raph tilted his head in his direction. For a long moment, nothing moved. Then he shuffled over, making room for the other turtle to sit.

"Thank you." He sat down. "How're you feeling?"

Raph stared ahead.

Donnie tried again. "Have you been eating?"

Silence. Donnie sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose.

"Are you- Are you even listening to me, Raph?"

Raph stood up with a jerk and escaped into his room without so much as a second glance. Donnie stared after him.

"Does he do that often?"

"Only when you press him like that."

Donnie sighed again. "Has he said anything?"

"Not a word."

"That's... not a good sign, Mikey."

"I don't care. He's getting better."

"How can you tell?"

"He's out here, instead of hiding in his room all the time like he used to. He waits for me to get home. He tries to help me cook dinner sometimes. He's getting better, Donnie. Just give him some time."

"Well, alright, Mikey. Just... be careful with him, okay? Lord only knows what's going on in his head anymore."

"Is he doing any better?"

"Of course he is. And he'd be even better if you went in and actually talked to him."

"I can't do that, Mikey. Not yet." Leo paused. "Is he eating?"

"I'd tell you if he wasn't, wouldn't I?" Mikey crossed his arms.

"Good point. Has he left the sewers yet?"

"As far as I can tell, no." His gaze faltered. "He still hasn't spoken yet, either. I'm getting really worried about him, Leo. It's like he looks right through me."

"He may just. No one can really tell what's going through his head anymore. He might not even know where he is."

While they didn't know, amber eyes stared at the doorway separating them, hands twitching in their pockets. He heard every word.

Raph didn't trust himself outside.

Well, trust isn't really the proper word for it. He knew with dead certainty that, should he somehow find himself alone in the city in the middle of the night, he would survive, thrive, and make it back with barely a scratch.

He just knew better. Going outside meant the possibility of failure; of being caught and locked away and chained up and put on display. Or, the alternative, being set free by force, of the horrible pain of pulling chains out of a wall, breaking down doors, and running into the night, bleeding and bloody.

Raph simply understood the risks of someone of his kind, someone free, someone alien from the rest, undertook by going outside. And he was afraid of those risks. But this wasn't about him. This was about Mikey.

And, okay, maybe it was a little about him. The part of him that hadn't died in those cages had been itching for a reason to pick up his sai's and hop around the town ever since Mikey had managed to find and sharpen them, and this was his chance.

He was a little out of his element, he admitted, but he'd be alright. If things got too tough, he could always escape to Casey's. He was always willing to lend a helping fist.

Just don't kill anybody, he told himself as he eased the door open. This isn't the arena; not every fight has to end in bloodshed.

Right?

"Raph! Have you seen the news?" Mikey slid down the stairwell railing with ease, too excited to run down the steps. "Somebody took out a bunch of goons last night- they say they never even saw 'em coming. It wasn't Casey or any of his buds, either. Could be a new- Raph?"

The couch- empty. Mikey snuck a peek into his room. Nothing there, either.

"Raph? Raph. Oh no- Raph?"

Mikey pushed the door open, or at least attempted to. He winced when the wood hit something hard with a clunk. He peered around the half-open doorway.

Raph let out a snore, curled up in a ball just outside the door, his shell the cause of the newest crack in the door. His sai's, while a little bloody, were the only thing that looked all that worse for wear.

"Raph? Raph, buddy, what're you doin' out here?"

Raph twitched, then sat up, rubbing an eye.

"Have you been out here all night?"

Raph shook his head and stood up with a stretch, waiting until he'd stepped back to walk through the door.

Mikey stared. "Wait a second- was that you? With the robbers?"

A nod. Raph calmly headed for the kitchen.

"Dude, that is awesome!" Mikey jogged right by, heading for the phone. "I can't wait to tell Donnie!"

A grip on his elbow, soft but firm, stopped him. Mikey wheeled around in surprise. His hand was shaking, back stiff, teeth clenched in fear, but Raph's grip didn't waver.

"Hear you." He rasped, then let go. Mikey stared after him.

Because Raph heard his brothers, even when they didn't quite hear him.

Author's Note: Slightly angst-y feels for all!

I never really got any reviews for the first one, and I'm not entirely sure that this one will fare any better. Either way, I wanted a semi-happy ending to a really sad tale, because I'm a person who doesn't like to torture the characters too much. (Says the person who wrote a PTSD-ish Raph with speech problems and a fear of facing the world. Yeah, I know.)

No flames! Don't like don't read! Review!