Five more days. Five more days with the voices in my head. They never stopped. Not even when I slept. They were always there. Surrounding me, pulling me in with tender scenes, rare peaceful moments, then spitting me back out again with harsh words and images of violent fights. I haven't slept much at all. I can't sleep without revisiting the memories. And I can't stay awake without the voices.

Raph?

If this is our last moment together, I just want you guys to know I'm sorry. And I'm sorry I was so hard on you. Every time I pushed you, I threatened you, I yelled at you, I pushed you beyond your limits is because I believe in you. I believe in each one of you! I believe in y-your spirit, and your i-intelligence and your potential! And every time I talked about walking away, it was because I was scared! I just didn't think I was good enough to stand next to you, and call you brothers! And say to you: I love you! I love you guys so much!

My eyes are watering as my own voice rings through my consciousness. I clench my fists and grind out the words through my teeth, "So damn much!"

The tears ran down my face. I pulled my knees to my chest, dropping my head in my hands. "Not good enough." I whispered brokenly, "Never good enough."

Raphael, control your anger!

So I tried. I tried as hard as I could. I used all my strength. I gave everything I had. And it nearly killed me. We were seven then...

Sensei was always comin' down on me about my anger. He kept tellin' me to control it. So I let it build. I pushed it all into some deep, unreachable place inside me. Too bad he didn't realize how all that anger had built up in the first place.

My brothers don't have many memories of when we were little. But I can remember many incidents, starting about the time when we began to read and write. No matter how hard I tried I was never good enough for Sensei. No, not good enough. All I ever got was criticism. It got so bad that by the time I was seven the only way I knew how to get attention was by doing something that would end up getting me in trouble. Father loved me, I know he did. But he didn't realize how sensitive I was.

It wasn't until we turned five that Don said something to me that would change my life forever. I was in our room, back then we all shared one, and I was laying on my bed, crying my eyes out. Someone came into the room and pulled me into a soft hug. I didn't have to look to know who it was. The way the forest green arms wrapped around me was enough. I leaned into Leo's embrace as he rubbed soft circles on my carapace until my sobs slowed. I hugged him back, and after I stopped crying, he left the room, probably to help Sensei with something. Less than half a minute later, Donatello stepped into the room and looked over at me and my tear-stained face with a look of mild annoyance. Even then, Don was way smarter than we were, and he had the ability to make words sting worse than bites from a hoard of fire ants, he still does. Mikey had been annoying the purple-masked turtle all day, so needless to say, he was already in a cranky mood.

"You're such a crybaby, Raph. What happened this time? Mikey break one of your toys?" He asked with a sneer.

My heart ached as I remembered how much that stung. Kick a turtle while he's down, eh Donnie?

"Grow up!" He snapped at me before storming out of the room with whatever he'd needed from there in the first place.

From then on, I changed. I decided that I was going to do what Donnie said. I was going to stop being a baby. After that day, the number of times I cried were few and far between. Whenever something hurt or stung, I pushed it down into a deep, dark place inside of me. A hole. A hole that I filled with all my hurt, all my guilt, all my sadness. The gaping hole grew larger and larger until it threatened to consume me. All of a sudden it was too much. It hurt too much.

Then I made a discovery. I don't remember the specifics like who said what or anything, but one of my brothers did something that hurt my feelings. But instead of feeling hurt, I was angry. Oh, so angry. And it felt good. It felt so good.

And that's how it all started. I began to rebuke them with anger because it dulled the hurt.

Anger. Hatred. Loathing. There was so much of it. I couldn't control it. "Never could." I mutter to myself as I sit here, in the dark, in the middle of the night, er, early morning on Casey's couch.

And when we were eleven...

It feels almost like a dream now.

Sensei told me that I needed to learn how to control my anger. So I did everything I could. I tried releasing it on my punching bag, additional training, and on long walks alone in the sewers at night when everyone was asleep. But for every bit I released each day, it doubled back ten-fold. Sensei didn't understand.

He still doesn't.

My father tried to teach me how to channel it, so I soon added two hour lessons with him to my everyday schedule. Then one day, during training, I hurt Mikey. I didn't mean to. He said something that made my temper flare and I hit him too hard. That was when I realized what my anger was turning me into: a monster.

From then on, I decided that I couldn't risk being around my brothers any more than necessary. It was too dangerous for them. I would spend the morning in training with them, then afterwards I would retreat into one of the empty rooms. Oddly enough, it was the one I would later claim as my own.

In my solitude my hurt consumed me. And even in those moments of hurt I found a desperate need to release my frustration. That was when I started punching walls.

My anger also led me to a point of self-loathing I had never known before. I began to hate everything about myself. As I glanced around at my brothers, watching them from the sidelines as they played and talked and trained, I realized that I would never be good enough. So I got angry. I could see the hurt in their eyes every time we fought, every time I yelled at them. I was hurting them the same way that they had unknowingly hurt me. They didn't deserve that. I didn't deserve them.

The more Sensei pushed me to control my anger, the more I hated myself for never being able to do anything right. I fell deeper and deeper into my own personal hell. I stopped taking care of myself. I lost a lot of weight and my dark emerald-green skin grew paler. Sensei didn't notice. I was glad. I vaguely remember that part of me wanted to waste away.

It wasn't long before I got sick. I told father it was just a cold and he accepted that. Again, I was glad.

But even then, there was a factor I hadn't taken into account: Leonardo. Stupid, fucking responsible, big-brother-Leo. He'd been watching me. He knew I hadn't been eating. He knew I hadn't been taking care of my injuries. He knew it was more than just a cold. But Leonardo did something that day that I never truly thanked him for. He came to me first.

I was laying on the cold, concrete floor of the messy, broken-down chamber that would later be my room. My body shook with tremors from the cold that had begun to freeze my senses. My forehead was sweating. I had a fever. I'd been hiding in there all day. I didn't want them to see me. The door opened and I glanced over in time to see Leo's eyes widen and begin to water. "Raph!"

He pulled me into his arms and cradled me gently. I tried to push him away, but I was too weak. I wouldn't look at him. "Go away, Leo."

Leo pulled me closer. "No." He whispered. "Raph...please..." My big brother's voice broke and I finally looked up at him.

There were tears in his eyes. No. This wasn't supposed to hurt him. This was supposed to help, to keep me from hurting him, to keep me from hurting them.

"How long?" He asked weakly. I didn't answer. "You haven't been eating. How long?" He said more forcefully, his grip on my shoulders tightening.

"Three months." I whispered weakly. I had been eating, but only enough to keep up appearances. I avoided it as much as possible.

At my response, his grip tightened even further as he pulled me to his chest. "Please stop." He whispered brokenly. "Promise me that you will stop."

I remember that I didn't want to. I knew that if I promised him, I'd never be able to escape. But I couldn't bear hearing that broken lilt in my big brother's voice. I couldn't...I didn't want to hurt him even more than I already had. "I promise." I whispered below my breath.

Leo hooked an arm under my knees and lifted me off the floor. My knees ached. He was bigger than me then. And due to my poor health, lifting me was no challenge. But before he could rush me out of the room and into our father's arms, I grabbed his plastron, ignoring the pain in my elbow as I reached up. "Leo..." Slowly, he looked down at me. My already heavy breathing grew more rapid and I know that my fear must have flashed through my eyes. "You gonna tell Dad?"

He thought about it for a long, slow moment. I could see the wheels in his head turning. "No. I won't tell him. As long as you keep your promise, I will keep mine." I never thanked him for that.

I nodded weakly as my senses dulled. More sweat ran down my face. Then my hand dropped and fell limp. My joints ached. Everything swirled together. I didn't realize how tightly I was clinging to him until after I registered that he was running.

"Sensei, Raphie's sick!" He yelled frantically.

I felt our father rush over and I was lifted out of Leonardo's arms, by soft, gentle hands. He was too worried to reprimand me for not telling him the truth about my cold. "Raphael..." He pressed a hand to my forehead and gasped as he realized I had a fever. He pulled me close to his chest and I pressed up against him. "Raphael." He called, and this time I could tell that he wanted an answer.

"Sen...sei..." I managed to murmur weakly.

"I would tell you not to speak, my son, but I need you to tell me what is wrong. Tell me where it hurts."

I struggled for a few moments, breathing heavily. The room was spinning. Sensei's face was getting more and more distorted. "I—Daddy—"

"Try, my son. Please try."

"I can't...breathe...chest...heavy." But I remember that I didn't care. Sensei was holding me close. That was all I needed. That was all I cared about.

He pulled away slightly and put his ear against my chest. "Breathe deeply, my son."

I tried, but after the first couple breaths I began coughing. Loud, raucous coughs. I saw Mikey pressing himself against Leo's plastron as they watched from slightly off to the side. Donatello, on the other hand, who was already keen on assuming his role as family medic, was right beside us, looking down at me.

"Daddy, what's wrong with him?" He asked, timidly. His voice was filled with concern.

Donnie was scared. I realized. Huh, wonder why I never saw that before.

My thoughts wandered away from the images of the past and voices filled my head once again.

Are you okay?

Are you okay?

Are you okay?

They asked frantically. Looking back, I grinned. I'd never seen my brothers on that kind of high before. It was amusing. Then my grin vanished. But even then they were concerned. Of course they were. They cared about me in spite of it all. In spite of all the times I'd hurt them they still cared.

My heart aches. But I shouldn't expect anything less of them. Despite all the times they hurt me, I've always cared. I care too friggin much. I shouldn't let myself believe that I'm inferior to them. "But it's the truth." I muttered to myself. "It doesn't matter how much it hurts. I still care."

"It shouldn't hurt." A voice muttered from off to the side.

I sighed and rolled my eyes before my eyes slid over to the figure standing in the shadows to the right of me. "How long have you been standing there?" I asked, genuinely curious. I hadn't sensed him.

Casey's face was set into a grave frown. "Long enough." He sat down beside me.

I waited for the pep-talk that I knew was coming. Surprisingly, it never did. My eyes slowly scanned him up and down. There was a blank expression in his eyes. One that I had come to recognize as the look he got whenever he thought about his missing sibling.

"Raphael. As long as you let them keep bringing you down, as long as you keep apologizing to them for their mistakes, they're never going to learn. They're never going to stop doing this to you. You have to tell them the truth. You have to tell them how you feel. I know it sounds stupid, but believe me when I say that until you tell them how much these things hurt you, they won't stop. Because they don't realize what they're doing."

My lips bent into a deep frown as I mulled over his words there is an edge in his tone that I've never heard before. Regret, I realized. I stared impassively at the human sitting beside me. "Speaking from experience?"

"You better believe it." He muttered.