Leonardo stared at the book in his hands. The image was one he knew well, or at least, one that he recognized.

This was years ago!

Several years ago, Leo had given Raph a toy car on their birthday. It was the nicest toy car that any of them had ever found, and since it was their birthdays, Leo gave it to Raphael because the little hothead was an avid car fanatic.

Raphael had been so thrilled that he'd hugged Leo without even realizing that he had done so. Leo smiled at the memory, before he turned his attention back to the image. The detailing was absolutely fabulous. Everything was perfect and true to form, right down to the little pin-striping on the car doors.

Leo's awed gasps made the others gather around him. All three of them made little noises of shock as they, too, beheld the artwork on the page.

Mikey tried to pull the book away, but Leo tightened his grip and growled. Mikey backed off. Leonardo flipped through the book slowly.

Each page contained a memory. Things that had completely slipped his mind, memories from years ago that had long since faded were being revived by the images before him. Numerous moments came flooding back to him. He paused and smiled at a picture of him giving Raph a turtle-back ride. That seemed like ages ago. It was on their tenth birthday, back when Raph had been significantly lighter.

Leonardo was about to run his fingers across the drawing, when a tight hand attached itself to his wrist, holding him back. The eldest tore his eyes from the paper and sent Raphael an inquiring stare.

Raphael evaded his brother's gaze and muttered, "It smears."

Leo nodded absently. His eyes ran over the drawing one last time before he once again turned the page. Drawing his attention away from the book for a moment, Leo looked up at Raphael wonderingly. "I can't believe you drew these."

"Little piece of charcoal can go a long way." Raph replied timidly.

Leo spared Raphael any further embarrassment and turned back to the book. His curiosity peaked, he flipped toward the end where a page was dog-eared.

Leo's hand stilled as he found himself staring at an almost mirror image of himself. He was astounded. If the image had been in color and not black and white, Leo might have thought he was staring in a mirror. Leo could see, via his peripherals, that his family members were also actively comparing the drawing with the real thing.

Michelangelo, in particular, was astounded. He repeatedly looked back and forth between Leonardo and the drawing as though mentally confirming which of them was the real.

Dark, blue eyes slowly rose, landing their intense gaze on Raphael. "Raph how—when?"

Raph's eyes dropped to the floor. He shifted nervously. "Um, I just drew them." He answered tentatively, not entirely sure what was being asked.

Leonardo stared down at the drawing once more, completely astonished. It really was incredible. And to think that Raphael had been hiding his talent from them all these years...It was implausible.

Master Splinter, who was standing on Leonardo's right, glanced down at the picture and over at his oldest son, then he turned to Raphael, "You have a gift, my child. Why is it that you have never...?"

Raph shrugged nonchalantly. "It wasn't important. You didn't really need to know."

"And you have been drawing these since we turned ten?" Leo asked with interest.

Raph smiled a little. "Before that, actually. But that was near the beginning. You can tell the difference by how primitive those drawings are compared to these."

Leonardo's eyes widened. None of these drawings seemed even remotely primitive to him.

Master Splinter's hand reached into a concealed pocket of his robe and his fingers ran over the worn-down folded piece of paper inside.

You always were an artist, Raphael. And your drawings were always the finest of your brothers'. Not that I would ever tell you in their presence, of course.

Unbeknownst to Raphael, in the pocket of Splinter's robe was an old, tattered piece of paper which he carried with him wherever he went.

Back when the turtles were barely five years of age, it had been presented to the father by his second-oldest child, Raphael. Splinter smiled. He could see it now...

————————

Splinter smiled as the light pitter-patter of little feet echoed through the sewers, his sons' light, ringing laughter, making the fatherly rat's heart swell. But his sensitive ears also picked up on something else: gentle humming.

The rat raised an eyebrow. He stood and moved to the doorway, where he could see three of his sons playing tag in the sewer tunnel just outside. Only three. Splinter narrowed his eyes and pinpointed his eldest relatively quickly. Leonardo was wearing a blue cloth tied on his upper arm like an arm band, which made him easy to spot. The smallest one was Michelangelo, and the thin, lanky one was Donatello. Hm.

Splinter moved back inside and listened carefully. The humming was still there. While Splinter was a little concerned that Raphael was not out playing with his brothers, the second-oldest was not often relaxed enough to hum, which comforted him a little.

He followed the humming to the couch, or more specifically, behind the couch. Splinter peered over the couch and let out a small sigh of relief as he saw Raphael.

The young turtle was sprawled out on his plastron with a piece of paper and crayons clutched tightly in the little emerald green hands. Suddenly the humming stopped and slowly Raphael's little head turned up towards the couch. As soon as Raph saw him the little turtle flinched, startled. "Agh! Daddy!" the young voiced whined.

Splinter went around the couch and kneeled down in front of his son. "I apologize, little one. I only wanted to make certain you were alright. I thought you were playing with your brothers."

Raphael shrugged off his father's concerns and went back to his drawing.

Splinter leaned over, trying to get a better look at it, but Raphael covered it up with his hands. "Nuh! You're not supposed to see it until it's finished!"

The rat smiled a little, "Oh really?" He asked, feigning surprise.

Raph frowned and nodded very sternly. "Yeah. Go away so I can finish!"

Splinter chuckled. "Alright, Raphael. I'll be in my chair if you need me." Before he left, the rat bent down and placed a gentle kiss on his second son's forehead.

Raphael grimaced, "Yich. Dad." He whined complainingly, his cheeks coloring with embarrassment.

Splinter chuckled fondly at the little one's expression. "Alright, little one, I'm going." As he moved away the rat heard the young turtle murmuring something along the lines of, 'I'm not that little.'

About five minutes later, Splinter found himself being pulled out of his thoughts by an emerald green hand shaking his arm. Big, black eyes looked down at the young turtle with interest. Raph was holding something behind his back. Splinter raised an eyebrow.

"It's for you." Raphael stated, holding the paper out towards his father.

Splinter took the offering gently and turned it over. He smiled. Tears came to his eyes and he brushed them away before Raphael could notice. It was beautiful. It was a drawing of Splinter holding Raphael close in a warm embrace. Both were smiling.

Raph scuffed his feet against the ground, nervously. "Do you like it?" he asked tentatively.

"No." Raph deflated a little and Splinter was quick to elaborate, "I love it very much, my son. Thank you, Raphael." He said as he pulled his son into a tight embrace.

———————

Splinter's mind returned to the present and he glanced down at the book once more. Leonardo must have steadily been turning the pages because they were getting nearer to the end.

Meanwhile, Raphael's heart was pounding. Leonardo was getting closer and closer to the drawings that he really didn't want them to see. The drawings of Casey Jones. Leo was smart. Not as smart as Donatello, but smart none the less. He would recognize that each and every one of these was drawn from memory. And he would undoubtedly realize that the drawings of the human were also from memory.

Leo continued to turn the pages and Raph tensed uncomfortably. Leo was getting far too close. Finally Raph counted down the pages: 3...2...1. As that final page turned, Raph clenched his fists and closed his eyes.

Everything went silent. Even the air was still.

Raph opened his eyes and examined Leo's expression. Leonardo's dark blue eyes narrowed dangerously as he inspected the images before him. Right on cue, Leo looked up, glaring daggers at his immediate younger brother.

Raph glared back unabashedly.

The other turtles and Master Splinter examined the images as well, and soon they, too, were glaring inquisitively at Raphael.

Leo's voice was no more than a low growl, "Who is he?"

Raph smirked, "That's none o' yur business."

Leo closed the book and handed it to Splinter before taking a few imposing steps towards his red-masked sibling. "It's my business when it involves my family."

"Well maybe it doesn't involve your family."

Leo's eyes narrowed. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"The shell do you think it means?" Raph retorted, his eyes flashing with anger.

Donatello pushed between them. "Both of you, calm down!"

"How the hell do you expect me to calm down, Donnie?!" Leo exclaimed, now absolutely livid. "He," the eldest pointed at Raphael, "has betrayed this family's sacred trust! He violated our most important rule: don't make contact with the humans!"

"I seem to remember us making contact with other humans!" Raph responded angrily.

Leo turned back to yell in his brother's face, "That wasn't the same! This time we weren't all involved, it was just you!"

"And so that makes it my fault?" Raph asked.

The eldest turtle snarled, "Damn straight."

Raphael's eyes were on fire. "Well whatcha gonna do about it? Huh? Huh, Leo? What are you gonna do?"

Leo's dark, blue eyes were hard.

Raph's eyes widened with shock. "Well, I'm waiting!"

"I can't believe that you have the gall to speak to me that way."

"Oh-ho-ho! How should I be speakin' to ya, Mr. High-and-mighty?!"

"You're a menace! A danger to this family! We'd be a lot safer without you around, and honestly I wouldn't give a damn if you never came back!"

Donnie and Mikey exchanged frantic glances. This couldn't be happening.

Master Splinter remained silent. He could understand Leonardo's anger. Mostly it resulted out of fear for their family's well being, but this dispute was quickly going too far. Still, one day Leonardo would be head of the family, and as such, his sons needed to learn to work these things out amongst themselves. So Splinter remained silent.

"So the truth comes out. And I'm sure you mean every word."

"I do." Leo said, coldly.

Raph's face was filled with betrayal and hurt. Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. "Fine. I'm leavin'." Raphael tore past Don's whispered words of comfort and Michelangelo's gentle grip on his shoulder, leaving without so much as another word.

Michelangelo broke down. Tears rolled down his face in rivulets. Don reached out to comfort him, but Mikey pulled away, whirling around to glare at Leonardo. "How could you? I hate you! Hear that? I hate you!" He screamed, beating against Leo's plastron with his fists.

Leo was left gaping in shock as Don pulled Mikey away, the two of them presumably headed for the youngest's room. His father's voice made him turn back around.

"In cases like these, Leonardo, you must not think about what has been done, but what could be lost." Splinter held up the book, open to the picture of Leo and Raph on their tenth birthday. "There is a bond of familial love between you and your brother my son. Are you prepared to lose it?"

Leonardo's gaze softened and regret filled his heart. His father was right. He bowed his head. "No, Father."

"Then go find him." After Leo left, Splinter added, "Before it is too late."

Leo nodded and rushed out the door. Running out into the sewers and heading for the nearest manhole. There was nothing. Raphael was gone. He fell to his knees and clenched his fists. Tears rolled down his cheeks.

This is all my fault. I went too far and I hurt him. What am I gonna do?

Splinter's voice echoed: "Then go find him."

Leo nodded. He stood and straightened his posture.

I'm going to find you, Raphael. No matter what it takes.