Author's Note: Please be warned and take note that this is a story about rape recovery. It's upsetting and it is grim and it features descriptions of rape. I cannot say what drove me to write this, but most of the story tropes I gravitate toward include Break The Cutie and Iron Woobie, which you can find on the TV Tropes website. I never thought I would write a story involving sexual assault. I am not a rape survivor, but I have been attacked because someone had a fetish for physically disabled women, and the only thing that stopped it from going further was my cane striking his groin and another guy pulling him off me. I don't know if this is something that was brewing in me for years since that incident. I can't hope that you'll like the story, but I do hope it won't trigger anything. If it does, please come to me and I will offer what comfort I can.

Help, I have done it again
I have been here many times before
Hurt myself again today
And the worst part is there's no one else to blame

Be my friend, hold me
Wrap me up, unfold me
I am small, and needy
Warm me up, and breathe me

Ouch, I have lost myself again
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found,
Yeah I think that I might break
Lost myself again, and I feel unsafe

Be my friend, hold me
Wrap me up, unfold me
I am small, and needy
Warm me up, and breathe me

Be my friend, hold me
Wrap me up, unfold me
I am small, and needy
Warm me up, and breathe me

Sia, "Breathe Me"

Carry me under, make me abandoned
Show me what's left, show me what's left
Beautiful anger, breaking the pattern
Show me what's left, show me what's left

Take the colour from your eyes
I bleed for you, I bleed for you
Bring the broken back to life
We'll make it through, we'll make it through

Empty and perfect, shattered and worthless
Show me what's left, show me what's left
Dragging me further, forget to remember
Show me what's left, show me what's left

Take the colour from your eyes
I bleed for you, I bleed for you
Bring the broken back to life
We'll make it through, we'll make it through

Never again, never again
Time will not take the life from me
Never again, never again
Time will not take the life from me

And after this world is out of reach
Sober and silent, faded and violent
Hopeless, I fight to fall between
Never surrender, out of the embers
Save a space inside for me

Take the colour from your eyes
I bleed for you, I bleed for you
Bring the broken back to life
We'll make it through, we'll make it through

Never again, never again
Time will not take the life from me
Never again, never again
Time will not take the life from me

-Breaking Benjamin, Never Again

Fire And Oxygen: A Phoenix From Ashes

Part One

And his heart is in his throat, he's listening to the rush whoosh of blood pounding through his ears, and he feels his heart rate quicken even more, and he feels as though he might burst if he doesn't slow down.

He can't slow down. There is no more time.

He cannot feel the pain from the cracks in his carapace, the stab wound above his hip, the headache blurring his sight. He only knows the weight in his arms, the force of his breathing, the focus of those rasping breaths against his chin.

Hurry up. Hurry UP.

It was his fault. He never meant to get them caught in a fight. The Foot are notorious for swarming places and he really had not considered being ambushed – they had just gone for a midnight run, and Mikey had his skateboard and Raph was running like the wind beside him, feet almost as fast as wheels over the rooftops, his little brother leaping with mouth wide open and a shout echoing across the stars. That is all he wanted. It was just a training run. It was only a run.

It is a run for his life now. His life, the one cracked and bleeding in his arms, the only one that matters. This shouldn't be happening. This shouldn't happen. He went down twice before, wordlessly, and Raphael still cannot look at the scarring on his side and chest without feeling rage deep inside. This is Mikey. This is Little Mikey, his Mikey, his baby brother, and there are two shuriken stars deep in his thigh, bruises against his neck in the form of handprints, blood dripping from his head, a rattling in his staggered breathing that terrifies Raph. He cannot remember how hard they were hit. He remembers watching Mikey spin with fury and force, like a hurricane. He remembers Mikey launching through the air, yelling out a snarl, and then choking out a scream and there was a wide spurt of red, and he was down, and ninjas were on him, and they were hitting him, they were striking with wood and fists and heels, and Raphael was covered in ninjas and hitting with everything he had, and—

And he recalls screaming, hands reaching out and crushing, punching, ripping, pain in his side like fire, pain against the back of his head, pain against his shell and the feel of wood hitting again and again, but he roared and they were down and he was vaulting himself at the last attackers crowded around something on the ground—

And tore through them just enough to see one kneeling, nearly horizontal, murmuring, gloved hands groping downward, wild and bloody against…

His sai thrusting into the space between man's shoulder blades, twisting left and up and in and his vision nothing but white rage and horror, the bloody sai already slicing across whatever throats and faces remained, gore and flesh tearing, cries choked by blood.

Reality returned harshly with a cold smack and a cry and Raph found himself gathering up his baby brother in his arms, barely registering the baby blue eyes gone dull with pain and fear and pure shock. Mikey whispered his name, his nickname, sore and scared and sad, and then that raspy rattled breathing, gasps and shudders and whimpers against his neck.

It's not too late, it's gonna be okay, we're coming up on the lair, just turn the corner!

And he nearly launches himself at the turnstiles, howling the names of his brothers and father,

and the warm stuttered breath ghosting against his chin stops

and Raph can only fall to his knees as hands find him and Mikey is taken from him, and the rage and pain and fear and anguish is boiling and there are sounds coming out of him that he has no idea what to call, and he finally feels the heavy warm gush of blood against his right side, and there are voices drifting over him and around him, and he feels his eyes roll up and his eyelids slam shut, and then

a buzzing sound

Blood pulsing through his ears and his head. Agony rolling up from his hip, across his back, around his skull. Whispers pull at him. It is too much. And suddenly the pain begins to fade, rolling back softly, enough so that he can open his eyes and he can feel how raw his throat is. He coughs. There is sound all around him.

Master Splinter's face comes into view, drawn with deep worry, grief, and a sad hope. "My son," he murmurs, "my Raphael," and Raph feels the warmth of a paw on his cheek. He leans into it, blinking. Breathing slowly. Gradually sensing his body, where it is placed on the cot. He drags a breath in. "Water?"

Splinter turns away, and then a glass is pressed to his lips as Splinter's hand is lifting his head. He drinks slowly, savoring it, and turns his head to see Donnie and Leo staring at him. His next word makes them look at each other, biting their lips, and he growls and shifts up on his elbows, struggling, as his father tries to soothe him. He repeats, the pain almost like a strength, "Mikey…"

Donatello nods, smiles this odd halfway smile. "He's….he's sleeping, Raph. He's on the other cot."

"How…how…"

"He's…hurt. He's badly hurt, Raph, it's bad. But you need to focus on yourself right now." Donnie is right there, hands right there just hardly touching Raph's plastron. "Your concussion hasn't helped. Your carapace is still healing with the ointments we put on it. The stab wound was pretty deep; you'll be limping for a while."

"Don't. Care." The words are ice against his bared teeth. "What…happened…to…what…did they…" Raphael feels himself shake and lies back, fatigue crashing through him. "I saw…I saw one of them, he…he was…touchi…I s-stabbed h-him…he was gonna…his hands…did he…?"

Splinter's hand begins carefully stroking his forehead, and the motions are somewhat calming. "Shh, my son, you must rest."

"NO!" and with pain-fueled strength, Raph is sitting upright, growling loud and hard, "I need to know! Did they…was Mikey…"

Donatello sighs. "Raph, I….yeah. There's…there's evidence that he was. Penetrated. His body went into shock, probably his mind as well."

The ragefearpainanguishNO rears up and chokes him, and he throws his head back and screams.

Not the heart. Not the light. Not his oxygen. Not Mikey. NOT MIKEY.

I was too late. I was too late. I was too fucking late.

He doesn't know he's sobbing it out loud until Leo rushes forward and wraps his arms around him, rocking him, and he cannot breathe. He cannot breathe. Where is his oxygen? His fire is dying, it needs its oxygen!

The next time Raphael wakes, there is a tray with food and sports drink right next to his cot. Knowing the routine, he sits himself up, numbly. He hardly hurts now. The pain has been replaced with something. Maybe drugs, maybe adrenaline, maybe pure anger. His fire surges through his midsection and jerks to a halt, faltering slightly. He pressed his hands to his solar plexus. He feels cold inside. He drinks the electrolyte mix, and eats the soup and the toast. His mind stays dark and crouched, weary and guilty and ready and speechless and waiting.

There is the sound of typing. He swings his feet off the cot and reaches for the crutch propped against it. The first footsteps are molten rock searing through his right hip and his spine. He grunts, and the typing sounds stop.

"Raph?" And Don is there, holding him by the shoulders, quick observant eyes darting between him and the cot. "You shouldn't be trying to walk. It's only been a few days. You need-"

"I wanna see him."

There's a long pause. "Raph, he's…he can't talk to you. He's not really…"

"I wanna see Mikey, Donnie. Don't make me ask again."

Donatello makes a noise deep in his throat and nods. He puts his arm around Raph's shoulder, the one not with the crutch, and steers him to the other cot nearby.

Mikey looks softly asleep. There is a huge bandage swathing his left thigh, blood-stained. His entire torso is wrapped, and the bandages around the top of his head look like a second mask. Raph bites his lip and reaches out shakily, cupping his brother's cheek; it feels warm.

He looks down again, feeling as though he'd missed something, and then he sees it: Smaller gauze pads taped to Mikey's inner thighs, high up where no wounds should ever be. He feels himself start to tremble.

"Donnie. They—they—"

"I know. I know. We treated him with salve and antibiotics." Don's hand is gripping his shoulder. "You—you're asking…"

"I'm asking," he says hoarsely. "I s-saw something, but…Don, tell me what that fucker did to Mikey before I killed him."

He hears Don's teeth grinding. "Raph…when you ran into the lair, you were both bleeding heavily, and the second Leo took Mikey from you he stopped breathing and you fell unconscious. We had to perform CPR on Mike for five full minutes and you very nearly bled to death. You were out for two days. Mikey…he came to as soon as we got his heart started, but he was screaming…and he showed signs of a severe concussion, shock, and heavy trauma. We got him on a table and started cleaning his wounds and wrapping up four broken ribs. Splinter sutured his thigh after removing the shuriken. I was checking his legs for more damage, and I saw…well, I saw bruises on his thighs and they looked like handprints."

Raph just nods curtly.

"Believe me, I went cold. Splinter taught us about sex and anatomy plenty, and you remember those sexuality books I found when we were thirteen and we learned about all kinds of things. So…so I knew. I knew what it might be and I knew what to look for. I—I kept going, and there was blood around his…ah, his tail and anus. The Foot soldiers wear netted gloves, made of a rough material, and that's probably what tore his skin and tissue. I estimated that his rapist used at least two fingers."

His voice suddenly goes very flat and seems older with that last sentence, and Raphael looks at his first little brother, and his eyes are emotionless, Donnie's entire face has gone completely still, what April sometimes calls his Doctor Face.

"Another soldier had tried to strangle Mikey, either right before or during the rape. From what I could tell, you stopped anything else from happening, but I imagine that if you had not been there, it would have kept going and the soldier would have used his penis to continue the assault." Don's voice drops, and so does the temperature in the room. It felt chillier, at least. Raphael isn't sure if he is grateful or fearful that his brother is using all the clinical terms rather than euphemisms. He feels that chill spread through his gut, touch his heart. It feels as though his flame is burning out to nothing.

"Mikey's rectal tissue was ripped severely," and Donatello's voice is almost robotic. "The glove material had sliced into the skin around his thighs and the tissue of his cloaca," and Raph's heart lurches; they all knew how unbearably sensitive they were down there -– that little slit opened to the pouch holding their genitals. That meant…

"The Foot soldier had tried to find Mike's penis through his pouch and it resulted in abrasions." Don's eyes are white now. "I applied antibiotic ointments and numbing cream, although until Mikey awakens further I am unsure if the area should be bandaged."

Raphael feels a strangled cry catch in his throat. He looks away from Donnie's fury to the face of his youngest brother. Mikey's eyes are moving under the lids, the muscles around his mouth twitching. Gently, Raph runs his fingers down his baby brother's face, circling the freckles soothingly.

"Understand, Raphael, that after Mikey calmed down, the shock caused a sort of catatonia. I watched his eyes go dull and half-closed; he was seeing us but he wasn't seeing. He was whispering, and he was describing the things that were happening. That's how I could confirm my findings. I think at first we almost didn't want to believe it. But we were too busy getting you stable to really think at all. Really, the number one thought in my head was that you had been there; you had saved him."

Raph squeezes his eyes shut. I wasn't fast enough. I was too late. I didn't save him. You're wrong. Don't say that.

"You're a hero, Raph," and Don's voice is suddenly a whisper, right next to his head, his voice suddenly breaking like concrete against hammer. "You saved his life. You saved Mikey."

And he feels them, the tears in his eyes that are burning his skin, the only heat he can feel. He wants his brother to stop talking. He needs to stop hearing those words.

Shut up. I didn't save Mikey. I left him to them. I couldn't reach him. I was too late. Stop saying those things.

"No, Raph," and Donatello's broken voice is louder, and arms are around him, and Don is gently nuzzling his temple like when they were little and huddling for warmth. "I'm not going to shut up," and he realizes he said those things out loud, "and you need to hear those words. Mikey needs to hear those words." And the embrace is just a little tighter. He notices that Donatello does not put any pressure on his carapace. He can feel the cracks, three of them, parallel and near the top of his shell.

"What about me?" he murmurs, while the warm tears are still warm, and he still holds both his little brothers close, before he feels himself begin to fade. "Tell me what happened to me. I got stabbed," and he touches the gauze above his right hip, "and they probably gave me a nice concussion, and someone jumped on my back with a sai."

He feels Donnie nod. "Leo gave you a blood transfusion. He was almost in shock himself even before that. I remember locking eyes with Dad and both our faces just went cold, and we were both in complete medical mode. I don't think I could have felt an emotion if I had tried."

They rarely call Master Splinter "Dad" – Raph knows it was serious.

"I just remember being so fast and precise. There was no time. There was no chance to slip up. You were dying, Mikey had clinically died and was barely hanging on. I remember cleaning all the blood around your wound, stitching it up internally and externally, while Leo gave you blood. He was just as emotionless, and I think he just knew what to do because I almost didn't have to instruct him. Between the three of us, we worked for hours, and I don't remember sleeping. Dad finally broke down as soon as I announced you were stable. I watched him sobbing over Mikey for a long time. He said, 'my babies, my children' over and over. And Leo was hugging him. And I just stood there over you and I stared at you, and I started crying. You would have laughed at us Raph, we were all blubbering like babies." And a sharp, barking laugh echoes around the room. Raph recognizes it. Donnie is struggling to remain cold and technical as he is crumbling. Raphael turns around and fully holds his brother now, and Don startles a little. They stand there, leaning against each other and the cot, breathing harshly, and when footsteps enter and Leo's arms join the embrace, Raph just closes his eyes and bows his head and leans into it, and he feels so cold.

Part Two

Raphael wakes and stretches as carefully as he can. His hip is healing "remarkably well" according to Don. He will still need the crutch for a time. He is fine with that. He doesn't feel like being tough. He doesn't want to pretend. He is holding onto whatever pain he feels and using it, fuel and function, But he still feels cold. His flame is still dying. There is no air. He still cannot breathe.

Like the days before, he stands from his cot and makes his way to his baby brother, whose deathly silence has cast deep shadows over the entire lair. No light. No air. No warmth. Mikey, please. We need you. I'm so sorry. Please come back. I love you.

He leans down and presses his forehead to the bandaged one below and sighs. Rubs his hands up and down his brother's arms, takes both Mikey's hands and rubs his thumbs over them. Donnie is worried that Mikey might be slipping into another coma, like before. Raph thinks it is still shock. His brother is warm and cold and unmoving and twitching, and Raph feels sensations and emotions fight and claw inside him but he holds them down, fights them until his head hurts, because he needs to focus on Mikey. He can't think about himself.

Raphael is humming, stroking his brother's forehead, holding his hand, when he hears him whimper. Automatically, he squeezes his hand. Oh, god, Mikey. I'm here.

Mike's head whips side to side, jaw clenched. Suddenly his eyes fly open and his entire body jerks up, a gasping scream tearing from his mouth. And Raph feels himself cry out with a sob, and he yells his brother's name.

Mikey is staring wildly at nothing, panting. Raphael just grips his hand and presses his other hand against his forehead. "Mikey, Mikey, it's okay, it's me, I'm here. Mikey. Please, can you hear me? Please. Mikey, please. I'm here."

"R-Raphie…"

And Mike's head turns toward him, glassy blue eyes pinning him. "Raph," he says, clearly, and begins struggling to sit up. Raph doesn't hesitate, pulls him into his arms until Mikey's head is under his chin. "I'm here, Mikey, it's Raph, I'm here, baby brother. I've got you."

"H-home…"

"Yeah, Mikey, we're home. We're in the infirmary. We've been here for a week or so."

"Y-you…s-saved me…"

He freezes, heart speeding up. Can't. I can't breathe.

"S-saved me…Raphie…th-thank you. Th-thank y-you…"

He grits his teeth. Presses his cheek to the top of the bandaged head. Stop. Stop it. I can't breathe. I didn't save you. I couldn't save you. I'm so sorry.

"Mikey! Guys, he's awake! Raph, step back I need to look at him. Raph! Raph, what's wrong?"

"Raphael? My son!" He feels his father's hands and then he feels Leo's hands, and they are very gently prying him away. He feels Don's arms around Mikey, who is sobbing and saying his name, and the sound of his own name is ripping him apart. He groans. "I'm here, Mikey. It's okay, it's okay," and his words feel hollow.

"Ssh, Mikey, sshh, it's all right. You're home. You're safe."

And he opens his eyes to see Donnie gently rocking Mikey, quick hands instinctively running over his body but barely touching him. Mikey is leaning against him, mouth open, breathing heavily. "D-D…hurts…hurts! Donnie!" And he's clinging to him, burying his face against Don's plastron. Don continues to soothe, kissing the top of his head.

Raphael swallows. He knows the two youngest recently bonded tightly over some psychology thing, but he feels almost jealous. It's he who should be holding Mikey and comforting him. Or…or maybe not. He should be away from this. He should be scolded. Mikey should be yelling at him, demanding why he wasn't there sooner. Mikey isn't, though. Mikey is crying Donnie's name, crying for help, crying that Raph saved him, at least Raph saved him.

I can't breathe. I can't breathe.

"Mikey, I need you to lie down, okay? I have to check you. Down there. Do you think you can do this with me?"

Mikey's breath hitches. "Okay. Okay. Yeah. O-okay. It hurts, Donnie."

"I know, baby brother, I'm trying to make it not hurt."

Donnie is biting his lip. "Raph or Leo, can you hold him?"

Leonardo is the one who steps forward; Raphael cannot move. His fists clench at his sides and all he can to is stare, sadly, as Mikey's arms wrap around Leo's neck and his forehead touches Leo's shoulder. Leo perches on the cot and murmurs, kissing his cheek, and Mikey lies all the way down, gazing up at the oldest brother in fear and awe, and Raph knows that look, that look that says Leo is strong and brave, Leo will help me, Leo will make it okay, I am afraid but Leo is not. I must be unafraid and strong like Leo.

But Leo is afraid. Raph sees it on his face. Afraid and worried and upset and angry and ready to pounce. His sweet baby brother was brutally assaulted and someone is going to pay. Raph knows that look because it is his look too.

Donatello is at the bottom of the bed, and gently moves Mikey's legs up and apart. Splinter is next to him, looking up in worry. "My son, we will do our best to avoid hurting you, but please tell us how you feel as we perform the examination."

Mike just bites his lip. "Yes, Daddy." And Leo visibly chokes.

Raphael can only stand there and stare.

I can't breathe.

And then Don and Splinter are murmuring to each other and they are touching under Mikey's tail and Mikey is crying, and Mikey is calling for him, and Raph's body moves without his awareness, and he is on the other side of the cot, gripping his brother's hand and stroking his head just like Leo is, "almost done, almost done, it's okay, you're safe, it's okay, you're home, no one is gonna hurt you…"

And Mikey is panting and staring at the ceiling, and Splinter is saying how brave he is and how strong he is, lifting Michelangelo from Raph and Leo, wrapping his arms around his baby, nuzzling his head gently. Mikey is whispering "Daddy" over and over and "I'm sorry" and "Is Raph okay" and Raphael wants to run, his chest is too tight and there is no air.

When April and Casey arrive, apparently for the third time since the incident, Raphael is sitting on the couch staring at the television.

Both he and Mike were cleared to sleep in their own rooms, with strict orders to return to the infirmary if anything felt wrong. Leo got Ice Cream Kitty and brought her to Mikey's room. Raph was just relieved to be able to slide under his covers, wrap the dark around himself.

He finds himself embraced fiercely by April, who is murmuring "I'm so sorry." Casey grips his shoulder and fixes him with a deeply sad, almost knowing look that startles him. They both head to Michelangelo's bedroom and shut the door behind them.

The television is playing a black and white samurai film. Raphael stares again at the swish of swords and can't think. He blinks when the credits suddenly roll. April and Casey step back into the pit. April is crying. She's holding the cooler and Ice Cream Kitty has never looked more upset, drooping, seeming to melt right there. April returns her to the freezer and they lick each other, and the mew that Ice Cream Kitty lets out is heartbreaking. April returns and Casey puts his arm around her shoulders. The two of them sit beside Raph but don't say anything. He feels grateful for that, although he doesn't know why.

They sit that way for a long time, well into another film and some cartoons. By the time it is ready to eat the pizza they came with, Raphael's mind feels clear.

Days and nights go by, and Raphael begins to dream. The nightmares come near the end of his sleep, the ones where he cannot move, where he is forced to watch a nameless faceless ninja push a forceful finger into his littlest brother while two others hold Mikey down, as if Mikey could get up, as his eyes fade in and out of conscious; he is gasping and whimpering in confused, terrified agony, and there is blood spilling from between his legs, and sometimes Raph can feel the white hot pain shooting up his own spine, ripping across his pelvis and most sensitive areas. He wakes panting, drenched in cold sweat, his room dark.

Sometimes he thinks he hears a strangled sobbing scream somewhere, and then footsteps light as flowing water, and then voices. If he listens intensely enough, he can hear Leonardo saying things: "I've got you, Mikey. You're safe. You're in your room. I'm here. It's all right, baby brother, you're safe, you're safe."

He lies awake after that, blood rushing in his ears. He still feels cold. He doesn't feel safe.

I can't breathe.

There is a knock on his door. He knows that knock. He feels both annoyance and gratefulness. Getting out of bed, still shivering, he goes to the door and opens it just enough for Leo to slip in and stand there, watching him with those night vision ocean eyes.

"Are you all right, Raph? Nightmares?"

And he pauses, looking his brother right in the eye, but it isn't a challenge. Not this. Not anymore.

"Yeah," he says, gruffly.

"Do you want me to…do you want someone to talk to?"

And Raph blinks and blinks again. "I…I don't know, Leo." I can't breathe. Where is my oxygen?

And Leo just nods. "When you're ready. I'll be here. We'll all be here. Don't forget that, Raph. We want to help you just as much as we want to help Mikey."

And he swallows, because there is a cold lump in his throat, and he's already forgotten that he shouldn't have to do this alone until Leo's words, and all he can do is give a curt nod. It is nowhere near his customary gruff exterior. He knows he is in turmoil, he knows he can't hide it, he knows everyone sees it. How weak he is. How guilty he is. Because it never should have happened, because he didn't get to Mikey in time, because he let it happen.

"Raph," Leo is saying. "Don't turn away from us. I know how guilty and shameful you must feel. I know. But we need to start healing. You have to let us help."

Good old Leo, always the leader and guardian, looking out for his clan's well-being and future, often dismissing how deep some wounds can go. He tries though, by kami he tries.

I love you, Leo, you massive noble pain in the ass. And Raph tries to smile, tries to feel thankful. All he can muster is a light, agreeable grunt, and a "Go back to bed, Fearless. I'm fine."

Leo just scrutinizes him, almost the stink-eye, but he nods once and leaves, shutting the door. Raphael lets out a shaky exhale and turns, maneuvering in the darkness, absently petting a sleeping Chompy, who purrs in his sleep. He looks at his bed and wonders what would happen if he went back to sleep. It is three in the morning. He is both awake and exhausted. He heaves a sigh and gets back into bed. He stares at the ceiling and repeats out loud, "They're just dreams. You can't change what happened. They're just dreams. Just help Mikey get better. Just help him." And he falls asleep without knowing it.

It is another night, and he awakens sweating and silently screaming, whispering his littlest brother's name like a chant. I can't breathe. Mikey, I'm sorry. Why can't I breathe?

There is total silence now. But his ears pick up something that sounds like shuffling feet. Without understanding why, he reaches for the lamp by his bed, the one with the red light bulb, and turns it on. Half of his room is bathed in intense soft light just enough to guide a path.

The very soft knock on his door doesn't surprise him. He slips out of his tangled, damp sheets, and when he throws open the door, he actually is surprised. Michelangelo is standing there, shaking badly, covered in sweat, clutching that old teddy bear, staring at him with cracked blue eyes that are filled with shadows. He's leaning to the right, his left leg on its toes, and he must have literally dragged his left leg to get here; he didn't take his crutch but he took his teddy bear. He is panting, his wrapped torso probably still sore and his concussed head probably still aching, but he pulled himself from his bed to Raph's room because he forced himself. Raphael absently notices how Mikey's left wrist is bent inward, how the whole left side of his body is twitching.

Oh god, Mikey, what are your nightmares doing to you? Mikey, help me. I can't breathe.

Raphael's face softens impossibly and he feels his eyes fill with warm tears.

"R-Raph," and that meek voice breaks his heart. "Raph, can…can I s-sleep with y-you? The dreams…"

And Raph reaches out as though dreaming, takes his brother's hand, pulls him limping to his bed, gets in and makes room, shifting against the wall until the cracks in his shell protest with pain. Mikey slips in like a ghost, still shaking, grasping that plush bear under one arm like he couldn't let it go.

Under the covers, Raph unconsciously grabs both Mikey's hands and squeezes. They bump foreheads. "I'll keep you safe, baby bro," he gasps, "forever. I couldn't do it then, but I promise I'll-"

And Mikey murmurs, "Stop, Raphie. You saved me that night. It would have been worse. You stopped them. That's all I care about. You saved me. Just…just be here with me. Please. Don't blame yourself anymore. Leo's already doing his guilt thing. I can't look him in the eye without feeling his pain. There's so much pain, Raphie. All I want is you to be strong for me. You're my hero. I need you."

He pauses, for a long time, and when he speaks again it is a child's voice. "They said things, Raph. I was barely awake but I heard them."

Raphael feels his own body twitch. Rage, white and trembling, coils inside him. "Mikey...baby..."

Mike's voice is flat yet with a hint of tremor. "They said it in Japanese but I knew all of it, Raph. They called me a shameful dishonorable brat. They called me a dishonorable filthy hedonistic slut in a family of evil freaks, always screwing up and making trouble, and how would I like a good screw to teach me a lesson. They said I must like it because I love to be touched and...and they were gonna give me the...the...the...ultimate touch. And they kept calling me bratty baby slut and there were hands around my throat and hands were between my legs and there was so much pain, I was on fire, I was being torn apart... and I knew it was real but I couldn't say anything, all I could think was that I had to get out of this because I've never seen a beach in the daytime, I've never surfed a real wave, I haven't really seen summer on the surface, so I must get out of this, and then I thought of you, and I hoped you were okay, I hoped you would be able to slaughter them good, and then I felt something push into my ass and into my cloaca and everything went white hot and I was in too much pain to scream or cry and they wanted me to cry anyway, calling me a little whore, they wanted to break me..."

Raphael feels the silent freezing aching sobs and screams of horror clenching in his chest, strangling.

"...and I knew you'd come, no matter what, no matter how long it took, and I stopped caring about the pain and how far they were gonna go, because all I could think about was Big Brother...and then you came. And you killed them. You saved me, you saved my life, Raphael, you're my hero, you really are." And Mikey snuggles into him as much as he possibly can, plastron scraping, and Raph fights back horrified tears burning with vicious fury so indescribable he feels the rest of him struggle to stay where he is and not rush out of the lair, out for blood he already spilled.

Mikey just holds him and holds him. "I'm glad I got that out. I'm glad you listened. Don't leave me, Raph."

And Raphael feels it now, the cold beginning to lessen in his gut, as warmth begins to fill him slowly. Air rushes through his body, like oxygen pushed down his throat, spreading through his internal organs. He wraps his arms around his littlest brother and feels the tears that are not so warm. "M-Mikey, Mikey, oh god, I…you...you're not what they said, you...you're Mikey, you're our Mikey, you're my Mikey and I love you, I love you okay? You're amazing. Mikey, you're wonderful."

A long silence, and then a sniffle.

"I love you, big brother. Please, just hold me. Just make the bad dreams stop. It hurts, Raphie. It's so dark. I can't find the light. Help me."

And Mikey sobs openly, and Raph feels fingertips against his face, and Mike's voice is cracking with emotion. "I don't know where my light went, Raph. Help me. Help me."

They rock in each other's arms, crying until sleep overtakes them, and there is nothing else.

Part Three

Raphael wakes up and immediately senses that something is wrong.

A long time ago, when Mikey became so depressed it terrified everyone, he bonded deeply with Raph on a strong empathic level, and Raph now feels that, feels pain and panic and a fogginess that he cannot place. He looks down at his baby brother, curled in on himself, twitching, left wrist again curled oddly. Raph feels his heart pick up speed. Something is wrong something is wrong with Mikey.

He sits up all the way and pulls Mikey to his chest, whispering his name. Mikey's eyes flutter. He tilts his head up and Raph can see his eyes, glassy and far away and confused. "R-Raaaph…I d-d-don' feel…goo…I f-feel w-weeeird…" And his slurred speech launches Raph's brain into an animalistic panic. He cannot help but scream out Donatello's name, and then Master Splinter's. He doesn't want to move but he needs help, he needs help…

His door bangs open. His brothers, his father, April, Casey, all rush into the room. Donnie surged forward, climbs onto the bed, practically kneels on Raph's legs as he takes Mikey by the shoulders. "What happened? Is he bleeding? Is he sick?"

"I don't know!" Raph feels cold and lost. "I just…I woke up and I sensed something wrong! He's not talking right. And his arm…look at his hand!"

Donnie examines Mike, who is slumped against Raph and barely responding. Casey peers at them, then the color drains from his face. "He had a seizure, Donnie!"

"What?" Raph's head snaps up. Casey's eyes are huge and worried. "How'd you know?"

"One of my hockey teammates, he developed a kind of epilepsy after getting too many blows to the head," Casey supplied. After a seizure, he looks just like Mikey does right now. Except for the wrist thing."

Raph's heart is hammering in his chest. He hardly feels Mikey being pulled from him, gathered up in Splinter's strong arms bridal style. Leo silently helps Raph out of bed and they make their way to Don's lab, to the infirmary section.

Mikey is set on a cot. He's trembling slightly, eyes still confused and glassy. "D-Dahnnie…? Why I feel…bad?"

Don flinches. "I think…I mean…we spent a full five minutes working to get his heart beating. That's at least five minutes without oxygen to the brain. Six minutes with no oxygen flow leads to minimum brain damage! Why didn't I…oh god, I didn't think…"

Leo draws in a shaky breath. "Does...does that mean he's got actual brain damage?"

Donatello nods and looks miserable. "I can't believe I didn't consider it while he was unconscious. Maybe I was hoping for that forty percent chance it wasn't…oh god, I'm a fool, I fucked up so bad…" And his face crumbles.

"Oh, Donnie, no…" And April is rubbing her hands up and down his arms. "It's not your fault. You did everything possible, you were amazing." She turns to Mikey, who is sitting up and looking around with an exhausted, frightened stare.

"Mikey," she says gently, "can you look at me? Can you look me in the eyes?"

And Mikey inhales shakily and does so, blinking rapidly, lower lip trembling. "H-hi, April."

She smiles. "Hi, Mikey. Hi, sweetie. How do you feel? Can you tell me?"

"I…du'knooww…bad. I f-feel bad. N-not…n-not…r-r-r…"

"Not right?"

"Yah, that."

"Okay, Mikey. Here, I'm holding your left hand, can you feel that?"

"Y-yeah, kinda yeah, I f-feel…hand hurts weird. Why?"

April's face seems to melt in sympathy. "Mikey, you…your brain got hurt, and it's just now showing."

Mike's face scrunches up. Slowly, he nods. "Okay. I un-und-under-I get that. Brain feels funny. Like burning. Hand burning, all..c-crampy."

"You had a seizure, probably in your sleep."

"I did. Yeah. I 'member. In the t-temp-tempral…lobe...t-t-t…"

"Temporal lobe," Donatello supplies, sniffling. "Mikey, you know stuff like this?"

Mikey swings his head slowly and fixes Don with a glare. "I not st-stupid, Donniiee. I just…words. Um. Forget. I know things! I read. I r-read the…textbooks."

Raphael blinks a few times. He finds himself exchanging glances with Leonardo. They didn't know about this! Why didn't Mikey tell them?

"Okay! Okay." And Don puts his hands up and grins. "I didn't know you've been reading my books, Mikey."

Mikey smiles, lopsided. "I put them back when done." And his voice is getting stronger. "I been r-reading ne-neurology. Epilepsy. 'n damage. No oxygen. I know w-what this is." He holds up his left hand. Then he smiles brightly. Very carefully, he says, "Hy-po-xic an-ox-ic en-ce-pha-lo-pathy!"

Raphael feels a cold, terrifying chill wash over him. All he can think of is damage. Injury. To the brain. Mikey's brain. Mikey has damage in his brain.

"That's absolutely correct, Mike," April says with pride. She's massaging his hand and wrist gently. "You know, you can help me study for my neuroscience tests!"

"Yah, I want that!" And suddenly he shakes his head fiercely, and wraps his arms around his torso, and lets out a strangled cry. "Can't…I need…brain won't let me talk!" he whines.

April cups his face in her hands. "Mikey, you're recovering from a seizure, okay? Probably complex partial. They can fog you up for a few hours or even days. You need rest now. Food will help. Let's get you some breakfast, okay?"

"C-can I make? Pancakes?"

"Oh, sweetie," and April kisses his forehead. "You're too injured. Why don't I make pancakes and you sit with me and watch?"

"Kay! Thanks, Apri."

And Splinter sits beside Mikey on the bed and holds him. April and Donnie perform some odd physical balance tests on Mikey, who apparently fails half but remains cheerful. And the four of them begin a gentle conversation involving science words that Raphael cannot quite grasp, so he looks to Leo again, Leo, who looks like he's about to cry, and so Raph pulls him into a one-armed side embrace and isn't surprised when Leo's head drops onto his shoulder, breathing harshly. Raph senses Leo's intense frustration and fear. He can feel guilt and shame overflowing them both, but there's nothing he can think of to make it better. Nothing at all. But he thinks he can breathe again. He pulls oxygen into his lungs and thinks he sees a flash of light out of the corner of his eye, but it could have been anything.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Mikey turn to him and smile, and another flash of light makes him wonder if he is seeing things.

Don recruits Casey to help him give Mike another examination, something Casey is all too willing to help with. They've all been giving Casey looks; he knows things now. Nobody has asked, but Raph feels the questions itching against his brain. During that strange conversation initiated by a fatigued, addled Mikey, Casey was completely silent, his eyes sparking as he just gazed at the little turtle. He knows something, Raph thinks, he knows what Mikey is going through, it's not just hockey injuries.

It's over a day before Mikey stops slurring, forgetting words, or mixing up words. In the dojo, Splinter helps him with exercises for his hand and arm, showing him different ways of wielding his beloved nunchucks and kusarigama. Mikey delights in this, giggling a little too loudly even as he whines in pain at almost every movement. His wounds have healed well, even though Leo and Don are reluctant to let him train again. Raph offers to spar with Mikey, promising to be gentle. He, too, is recovering, after all. They promise to go light on their injured legs. Mikey responds with pure child-like enthusiasm, almost too child-like, giggling wildly as he dances around Raph's slow and cautious attacks. Leo and Don are sparring nearby, both cautiously glancing at Mike and Raph.

With a forward flip and a twist that almost should not be possible with a shell, Mikey kicks Raph's feet from under him, sending his sai clattering. Mikey dances and twirls until he's pointing directly at Raph's head. "Say you yield!"

Raph is gaping, puzzled. "I…I yield."

"YAY!" Mike claps, then crouches and yanks Raph to his feet. "Sensei, who won? Play fighting's over now?"

The others lower their arms and just stare.

Splinter clears his throat. "Michelangelo and Leonardo are winners. We will take a break now."

"Awwww!" Mikey stomps his foot and pouts. "Okay, I'm gonna make pizza now! No funny topping stuff, I know you guys don't like that." And Mikey grabs his crutch and almost skips toward the kitchen, hopping on his right foot, using the crutch to turn it into an almost dance.

The rest of the family just look at each other, frowning.

"He acted like he was ten," Raph huffs, folding his arms. "But I don't think it's on purpose."

"It isn't," Donnie says. "It's…a side effect from the brain injury." His hands twist, fingers clenching. "We'll have to keep an eye on him."

Raph thinks with despair, I thought I was.

Part Four

Raphael shoots up in bed again, and his throat feels raw. His bedroom door slams open, and Leonardo's arms are around him. "It's okay, Raph, it was a nightmare. Easy."

He doesn't even realize that his fists are clenched and that he's still growling loudly, echoing, down from the screaming. He breathes as deeply as he can, aware that the panicked wheezing doesn't even embarrass him. Leo just rubs his hands up and down Raph's arms. "That's it, Raph, breathe slowly."

"L-Leo…" He manages to unclench his fists and put his hands over his eyes. "S-sorry."

"Don't. Don't feel sorry." Leo takes his chin and looks him in the eye. "You were calling for Mikey. He's okay. He's in his room."

"You sure he's okay?"

Raph almost flinches at the weak, child-like whine in his voice. Leo just nods, his whole face covered in concern. "Want me to make you some tea to help you get back to sleep?"

Raphael surprises himself by enthusiastically nodding. When Leo comes back, he sits with Raph and watches him drink the tea, and stays until Raph's eyes flutter closed again.

The smells of breakfast wake him completely, and he limps out to the kitchen, smiling. The smile freezes when he sees Mikey at the stove, flipping pancakes and singing very softly. It's a child's song, playful. He looks up and grins, but there are deep shadows behind it. "Morning, Raph! How many pancakes do you want?"

Raph blinks. He's sitting and eating without remembering saying anything, and Mikey is looking at him with worry. The others join them. Splinter is asking Mikey how he feels. When Mike answers "My head hurts," Raph feels his gut clench and he looks hard at his little brother. Mikey looks so off. His face seems dark. He's shaking slightly. But he's eating with enthusiasm, and soon hurries off to the main pit of lair, where the sound of video games soon play.

Raph heads to the weight area, where he punches the taped-up bag mindlessly until he cannot feel his knuckles. It has not cleared his head. He glances at the practice dummy and wonders if his family will give him odd looks if he tries to strangle it.

And suddenly he feels it, deep in his gut, and it is a strange sort of hurt, detached and sharper than glass, but it spreads to his skull and now he's limping as fast as he can to the pit, and his breaths are quick.

He reaches the couch and on automatic he reaches for Mikey, but something is…wrong. Bad. He crouches and takes Mikey by the shoulders and looks into his face. He calls his name quietly, then sharply.

Mikey is just staring. His eyes are not seeing Raphael. The controller is slowly slipping from his hands. Muscles in his head and arms begin to twitch, and his right leg is starting to shake.

"Donnie! Sensei!" Raph screams, and he knows, somehow he knows, that he shouldn't try to move Mikey or shake him, so he lightly embraces him and says firmly, "It's okay, Mikey, I'm here, Raph's here. You're okay, I promise." And he doesn't know why he is saying it, but he feels Mikey shivering, his body rocking back and forth, and then Donatello is there, gently pulling him away, and Splinter is cupping Michelangelo's face in his hands. He looks at Don and says, "It is a seizure. Come help me lie him down." And Raph stumbles backwards, confused and raw, as Donnie and Splinter maneuver Mikey oh so carefully lengthwise, his head propped on a pillow. Don is massaging his legs while Splinter is stroking his forehead.

"I…" Raph jerks forward, and Don looks at him. "What do I…"

"Sit here," Don says, patting the floor next to him. This positions Raph at Mikey's upper plastron. "We can only be with him. We have to wait until it's over."

Leo has arrived, struggling to mask a terror that Raph feels in his bones. He sits on the arm of the couch next to Splinter.

Swallowing, Raph takes Mikey's hand and squeezes it. Can Mikey feel it? Where is he inside his mind? Does he even know they are here?

Mike's eyes flutter and he utters a low keen. The shivering and twitching increases. Donnie just keeps rubbing his legs, but he's holding them a little. Leo and Splinter have taken Mikey's shoulder and head. Splinter has placed a hand under his neck. Raph feels Mikey's hand gripping his so hard it starts to hurt. He feels his own breathing quicken.

Splinter has a finger pressed to the side of Mikey's throat. He is counting. Slowly, Raphael realizes that he is counting seconds. Seventy-four, seventy-five. That's over a minute. Mikey's seizure is so far over one minute.

It keeps happening. Leo has bent and pressed his lips to Mikey's head, whispering in Japanese. Raph catches enough to know he is calling him Little Brother and he is saying that Big Brother is scared and to please come back.

When Splinter's numbers reach one hundred sixty, Mikey's whole body stiffens and Donnie grips his legs and says firmly, "Keep him on the couch! Gentle now."

Raph, pulling his hand away, instinctively wraps his arms around his baby brother, hands pressing into Mikey's sides. He looks up into half-open dull gray-blue eyes. It is disturbing and unnerving. There is no sight there, Mikey is somewhere else.

One hundred sixty nine seconds. Mikey lets out a guttural cry and completely collapses, every muscle exhausted. A thin stream of saliva trickles out of his mouth and Splinter tenderly wipes it away. Mikey is panting, mewling, and when he blinks and opens his eyes, he looks around and whispers. "What—what happened?" And Raph feels a great fatigue rush over him and he just drops his head to Mike's plastron and breathes shakily.

They've put Mikey to bed. Raph leans against the doorway, frowning, hands clenching. I did this. My fault. I didn't get there in time. I let the Foot hurt you. I let all this happen.

Mikey whimpers something in his sleep and starts to cry. Raphael hurtles forward and before he knows it he's in the bed, under the covers, hugging Mikey to him. Mikey turns to him, buries his face in his throat. When he's stopped crying, he says hoarsely, "Thanks, Raph."

"Any time," and Raph really really means it. Donnie said that people with seizures sometimes get very emotional afterwards, but there's also the rape flashbacks and the pain, and Raph thinks everything is tangled up in Mikey's head and he's still trying to work it out. Raph nuzzles him and closes his eyes. At least he can do this.

"Don't," Mikey says suddenly. Raph blinks.

"Don't blame yourself. Stop feeling guilty. I've been feeling it from you. It's like waves. I feel all of you. y'know. Especially you."

"Mikey, I…sorry…"

"Stop apologizing to me!" And Mikey lifts his head and for the first time in weeks, his eyes are snapping with anger and frustration. "Stop saying it's your fault! You're not the guilty party here! Don't act like it, because it's pissing me off. You saved my fucking life, Raphie. Fucking accept that."

And it's that boiled over anger and that exclamation that cracks something inside Raph. He starts gasping for air, feels a flame burst to wild life in his gut. I can't breathe…I can. I can breathe. I can breathe.

He stares at his baby brother, eyes wide, and those baby blues are staring right back, fighting, growling, but also lit up like stars, like a new fire among ashes.

"I love you, Raph," he says, and he smiles, a real smile. He reaches up a hand and lightly smacks Raph on the beak. "I love you, and you are being so silly."

Sighing, Raph lets out a chuckle. "Silly, eh? Ain't that your department?" And he tickles Mikey too quickly for Mikey to pull away.

Mikey giggles, a burst of sunlit music that Raph feels as though he hasn't heard in forever. "No tickling!"

"Yes tickling!" And Raph runs his fingertips up and down Mikey's sides until Mikey is full-on laughing, tickling him back. The noise is pure music, and it is as though sunlight has exploded in the room, falling on them and illuminating Mikey's laughter until it is rich and drenched in adoration. Raphael senses movement, and Leo and Don are on the bed, grabbing them and hugging tight, and Mikey squeals and manages to throw his arms as wide as he can to embrace them. Tears are in his eyes as he's laughing, but there isn't sadness anywhere. His eyes are sparkling skies and there are dimples in his cheeks and he is teasing each of them happily.

When Raph glances up, he sees Master Splinter standing there, and April is next to him, and she is crying too, and smiling. She's holding Ice Cream Kitty's cooler, and as Ice Cream Kitty meows in joy, Mikey jerks up and calls for her, and she leaps gracefully from the cooler to his arms, and they're all in the pile now, random ice cream licks and everyone's kissing Mikey's face. And Raph cannot help the grin on his face, or the wonderful beautiful fire burning joyfully inside him. Everything will be all right, everything will be all right. The light has been found. They can breathe again.

I'm breathing in,
And breaking down
I feel my time is running out
The fire in my heart will burn me to the ground
I did my part I tried my best the things I'm fighting to protect always shatter into pieces in the end
Oh
I'm broken and I'm barely breathing
I'm falling 'cause my heart stopped beating
If this is how it all goes down tonight,
If this is how you bring me back to life
Woah woah
This is what it's like when we collide,
Woah oh woah oh
If this is how you bring me back to life
I'm up in blood, I'm runnin' dry
My heart's been beating overtime to help this broken body live another night
Battle cries, the damage done
Who has lost and who has won ?
Who will be there when my life support has gone ?
Oh
I'm broken and I'm barely breathing
I'm falling 'cause my heart stopped beating
If this is how it all goes down tonight,
If this is how you bring me back to life
Woah woah
This is what it's like when we collide,
Woah woah
If this is how you bring me back to life
I'm breathing,
We lost all feeling
I'm barely breathing,
Still holding on
I'm broken and I'm barely breathing
I'm falling 'cause my heart stopped beating
If this is how it all goes down tonight,
If this is how you bring me back to life
I'm broken and I'm barely breathing
I'm falling 'cause my heart stopped beating
If this is how it all goes down tonight,
If this is how you bring me back to life
I'm broken and I'm barely breathing
I'm falling 'cause my heart stopped beating
This is what it's like when we collide,
If this is how you bring me back to life

-Extreme Music, "Bring Me Back To Life"

"The true test of a warrior is how your 'stance' holds up after any 'circumstance'. Meaning, even after the stormiest weather, a true warrior will still reflect the brilliant rays of the magnificent sun through both his or her eyes. You may get hit by sudden lightning or take severe beatings from the cruel wind, but you will always get back up and stand strong on your feet again, soak in the sunlight, and be prepared to get hit by even the most merciless hail - time and time again."
― Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun