Grab my hand

I'm drowning

I feel my heart pounding

Why haven't you found me yet?

***

"Why, that's new."

Nutjob takes hold of the cuff and lifts up his hands, examining the talons that are beginning to form. They aren't anything interesting yet, but Raph knows that they'll curve and grow sharp- enough that Raph could accidentally slice his palm open if he isn't careful. Leo learned that from experience. It's the reason that Sensei cut them when they were kids.

It became weekly habit to trim off just a bit to keep the talons in line. 

It occurs to Raph that this means he's been here for a least a week. It feels ways longer than that.

An eternity longer. 

"I assume that's natural?" 

Nutjob surveys the turtle that Karl has on his knees. Raph nods bitterly, knowing better than to refuse mad scientist any information. 

His captor drops the handcuffs and lifts his clipboard. A moment of pen on paper and then he's setting the wood to the side to snag the flexible measuring tape from the tray beside him. Raph's beyond tired of this human sticking his hands in his mouth and along his face, so he bites at his hands when he leans over, only managing to catch air. 

Nutjob looks startled, so Raph bares his teeth. Words have yet to make any impact, so he growls instead. Nutjob lowers his hands with an impatient frown. Raph doesn't know what it is about his jawline and skull that he finds so fascinating, but he wouldn't be surprised if the psycho was only doing all this to mess with him.

"Now, now. I'm almost finished. Karl?" 

Karl takes hold of the area of his throat behind his jaw, digging into the bone. He winces as his mouth is forced open, chin lifting as his back straightens in an instinctive attempt to relive the new ache. Furred fingers release him, only to seize a vice-like grip on his airway, not enough to suffocate him, but it's harder to breathe, and each swallow is distinctly uncomfortable.

Raph stills as much as possible, settling for a wary grimace. A finger traces the change in the bone and then the plastic is pressed against it. Nutjob emits a thoughtful sound. There's faint scribbling on the clipboard. 

Nutjob reaches up to adjust his face, and now he's looking directly at one of the lab's overhead lights. When Raph tries to turn away, he feels the hand shift, claws prominent against his throat, the other hand already digging into his healed shoulder as a reminder of the lengths the rabbit is willing to go to. The hand comes up to brush over scales. 

Everything about it feels invasive in ways that make his skin crawl, but he shuts his eyes to prevent blinding himself and tolerates it, unwilling to give Karl a 'good' reason to make it so much worse. 

The sooner the poking and prodding ends; the sooner he can be chucked back to his Roo-

"SHOT THROUGH THE HEART! AND YOU'RE TO BL-"

The mutants jump as loud rock shatters the silence, and a startled Karl loosens his grip on the captive. They look to Nutjob. The scientist has already pulled out his phone, scowling as he answers the call and barks, "What is it?!"

Raph and Karl exchange a set of knowing looks, well aware that whoever is interrupting is probably going to face unfortunate consequences. Then, in that very next second, Raph recalls his predicament, fists clenching in cuffs as he resumes a scathing glare. Karl copies it with a dark sneer, and Raph opens his mouth, a bitter comment in the back of his throat.

"-Wha- No! If I invited anyone I would have told you! Where are they? Where- No! Why would you- don't let them inside!"

Once again, all attention shoots Nutjob, and the normally posed scientist flattens back his hair, sputtering, "I don't care what he said! I am not paying you too- No! No, absolutely not! You are to stay on the perimeter! Stay! Yes! I'll handle it!"

He hangs up and scrolls as he paces back and forth, tapping a different number. "One job! One job! Keep guests out! Knuckle-dragging muscle is all they are! Useless! Can't believe-"

"Doc?" Karl asks quietly. Raph can feel the grip on his shoulder tightening. He peeks at him and spots the look on his face. Wait- is he-? 

"We had an agreement! They were to arrange a meeting! This was not-" Raph tears his gaze away when the call goes to voice mail and Ferrall breaks off to grit his teeth, dialing again. "Idiots! I made it perfectly clear that no one was to be in or out-"

"Uninvited guest?" Raph interrupts with a light smirk, satisfied that something isn't going Nutjob's way, and hoping to get a read on the danger. Is this going to make things worse, or could it be the break he needs to get the shell out of there?

Either way, it's a distraction. Raph might as well do his part. 

"What? Nutjob can dish ambushes, but can't take them?"

The scientist doesn't even bother to look up from the ringing phone. "Shut. Him. Up."

"Yes, sir."

Sir?

A furred hand clamps over his mouth and stops him from commenting on the uncharacteristic politeness. He's about to pull a Mikey and hack a nice glob of spit into the rabbit's palm when the lab door slams open. 

"Doc!"

He knows that voice. The spit melts back into the bottom of his mouth and he swallows uncertainly, watching as Vizioso's murderous twin bodyguards enter the room. Instead of their usual butcher knives, the twins hold sheek, black long-pistols, and Raph assumes they are of the red laser beam variety. 

Donnie always goes full fanturtle over the idea of creating an infinite source of concentrated light, but Raph is reasonably more concerned with the deadly and constantly aimed at him and his family part. 

Raph falls into his usual glare, trying not to let on that a new panic is slithering around in his guts. He knows any sudden moves will draw any guns to him in a heartbeat, and he's in no position to dodge any bursts. Unfortunately for Raph, he's only a few feet from the returning Nutjob, and the group instantly takes notice of him. 

They all freeze up, several weapons rising despite the very obvious restrained position the unforeseen danger is in. 

He willingly remains motionless as several mob henchmen cluster behind their leaders. One henchman stands next to them, holding a fellow henchman prisoner. 

After a brief hand signal from a twin, he fires the weapon pressed against his back.

The henchman who is evidently not a part of the invading group falls limply to the ground. Raph watches with wide eyes, sincerely hoping that there's a stun feature that he doesn't know about. 

Karl is completely tense behind him, a snarl low in the back of his throat, and for the first time, Raph is grateful for the constant, looming presence. The mutant rabbit may have no qualms with beating him to a pulp, but he bets that his master's not going to be a happy camper if Karl lets his new project get shot to death.

Karl might not be scared of the goons, but he's clearly wary of an angry Nutjob.

The unstable scientist in question is the first to break the silence.

"What are you buffoons doing here?!"

All gazes dart to Nutjob as he slides the phone into a pocket and strides forward, unafraid of the muzzles that veer toward him. One of the twins meets him halfway, and his brother follows suit. "Is that a muty?!"

"He's a specimen." Nutjob sneers. "My specimen."

"He's a muty." The twin that must be Tweedle Dumber repeats. "One of those freaky turtles." Raph bristles at the disgust in his tone, but the hand over his mouth keeps the heated retort from breaking loose. "First the rabbit and now a turtle? We're not tryin' to collect them! We're wiping them out!"

"What I do with my time and my resources has nothing to do with you." Nutjob vents disdainfully. "He is my subject and we are standing in my lab- Not! that any of you are supposed to be here! Do you know how this looks? Informing my guards that this is a planned meeting? How am I supposed to explain a meeting with a mob group?"

"Tell them we lied and broke in. We'd be happy to ransack the place for you." Tweedle Dumb grins and raises a hand. 

The henchman that had been at their side fires at one of the lines of colored vials. It explodes and the liquid mixed with shattered glass flies over and around the tabletop, drawing an enraged shout from the horrified scientist. 

"Out! I want these scum out of my lab before I drop the authorities a massive, anonymous tip on the location of certain weapon facilities."

The twins exchange apprehensive looks, and then Tweedle Dumber crosses his arms. "You wouldn't."

Nutjob's eyes harden. "I can erase every scrap of my involvement with a click of a button. I encourage you to continue down this path if you are truly prepared to face the consequences."

Raph knows that tone, and a shudder crawls down his spine. Both men must know it too, because they stiffen in sync, and then Tweedle Dumb caves, clenching his jaw. "Everyone out."

The goons exchange looks. After a few uncertain shrugs, they begin filing out of the room. 

The last one shuts the door behind him. Nutjob regains his eerie calm air, smoothing the flaps of his lab coat and addressing the glaring men. "Now. Would you gentlemen care to inform me of what you're doing here when we had a very clear agreement?"

"Maybe you did with the Big Man, but times are changing Doc. Or hadn't you heard?" Tweedle Dumb challenges as he deliberately steps forward. "Been too busy with your new pet? Sure haven't been picking up the phone."

"Some of us have lives outside of crime." Nutjob huffs with a subtle glance to the mutants behind them, cluing into the fact that they aren't alone. "And I'm not obligated to pick up the phone for anyone but Vizioso. But, he's imprisoned, isn't he? Left his little empire to wither away while he rots in a cell."

"Nothing withering. We're doin' just fine." Tweedle Dumber snaps unconvincingly.

All he gets in return is a disbelieving, "Hmph."

"That's not any of your concern." Tweedle Dumb insists, though Raph gets the feeling that he doesn't believe his own words. "We're here to talk business. The wiping-out-his-friends kind."

Raph feels a familiar fury rise and fester in the pit of his gut. He lurches, but Karl drags him back in place. He settles for a withering scowl. 

"Yeah!" Tweedle Dumber chimes in. "They're getting tougher, and they're finding us! Comin' out of nowhere too!"

"They're taunting us." Tweedle Dumb grumbles. "Not taking anything, not stopping any big operations- they're just beating up guys and takin' names. Rumor has it they're coming for us, just like they did Vizioso."

Just coming in to beat goons? Leo?

No way. What does he care for Vizioso's bodyguards?

...Unless he's looking for something other than those bozos.

Hopes stirs and his gaze lights up, unnoticed by those around him. Him. They're looking for him. They're trashing hideouts and scaring the suits off the mafia- just trying to track him down. Ha!

They're coming for him!

-Not that he doubted it for a second.

"I see." Another side-long glance at Raph. 

He gets the feeling that Nutjob has his theories on their real point of interest too.

"I don't see how that's my problem." Nutjob calmly steps away from the twins and heads for the table covered in liquid and glass. His ploy for control is obvious, but the twins fall for it; hook, line, and sinker. The twins sputter furiously as they trail after, but he blatantly ignores them. "My allegiances lie with the leader of this crime syndicate. Don's gone, and most of the mafia is scattered. Per your own admissions, you're dealing with a serious mutant crisis. Do you even have the appropriate funds?"

"We can pay just fine." Tweedle Dumber grits out, finger twitching over the trigger. "And the mafia has new leaders. Us."

Nutjob is silent as he pulls out two plastic gloves, causally adjusting them over each hand. The only thing that betrays his thoughts is how stiff his movements seem. 

Raph's seen Leo do the same thing when he's trying to pretend he's not on the edge of his rope, playing the stoic and wise leader.

Tweedle Dumber leans on the table to read the deceptively calm face, and Tweedle Dumb takes another look in their direction, but this time, his gaze locks on Karl. The rabbit's grip tenses, claws re-entering his shoulder, and Raph is harshly reminded that he's more than a spectator in the events. 

"I take it this is not an ill attempt at humor." 

Careful not to move his head and alert Karl to what he's doing, he squints at the lab door and considers the squad of goons that are hovering on the other side. If Ferrall's guys aren't all sacks of meat by now, he's going to have double lackeys on his shell the moment that he opens it. Even if he does somehow manage to get Karl to release him, he'll need his hands if he wants any hope of getting out of there.

His brothers are getting into trouble lookin' for him. The least he can do is return the favor.

"No one to stand in our way. Hammer's out of the picture thanks to that mutant dragon-"

Raph gives a swift, disgruntled look. They thought Kavaxisis was just some mutant? A dragon? Really? No freaky mutation can make anything shoot fire or eat souls!

"-not breaking outta the joint any time soon, we got no competition."

Raph tilts his head imperceptibly, getting a read on Karl's attention. Any trace of fear is gone, and his mouth is screwed up in a sneer. His ears twitch as he listens in; sick impatience written all over his face. 

He knows that look too well by now. If it wasn't for Raph, the hothead has no doubt that he'd be leering over bother humans like an overeager guard-dog waiting for permission to bite. 

"Just because a man could lead, does not mean that he should."

"You tryin' to say somethin', Doc?"

This is the longest either captors have taken their attention off of Raph outside the Room, and he'd be an idiot not to do something with the opportunity. His hands are useless now, but if he can just get that remote away from Karl- maybe one of the guns- then he'd stand a chance. 

If Leo was here, he'd probably say the odds of this working are, like, a million to one.

"Your tone is threatening. I don't appreciate threats, Victor." 

"You know I hate that name! He knows I hate that name!"

Heh. Good thing he's not.

Tweedle Dumb faces away, taking hold of the conversation. "We've heard the rumors, Doc. We know what they're saying."

"Who? You're going to have to be a little less vague."

Here goes nothing.

"Don't give me that. You know-"

Raph abruptly twists his head away from the furred hand and his mouth is free. Karl quickly moves to resume silencing him, and his head jerks towards the hand, completing his earlier unspoken threat to sink teeth into flesh. 

Karl shrieks, the hand on his shoulder tearing away to remove the locked jaw. Raph releases on his own and throws his body, ducking into a roll that tosses him to his feet. All eyes are on him as he swerves to face Karl and he surprises them by charging. He meets the rounded pupils with a devilish grin seconds before leaping into a spinning kick, heel meeting skull. 

He lands smoothly, sliding a few inches, and gives Karl the chance to get to his feet. 

He does not. 

Perfect.

"DON'T SHOOT!"

Raph's head swerves to Nutjob's shout and finds him smacking the long pistol in Tweedle Dumber's hands against his face. He cries out and Tweedle Dumb whirls to face them, giving Raph the opening he needs to dart to the unmoving mutant's side. He pats him down, frantically trying to figure out where he stashed the remote, blood roaring in his ears. 

"EY!" 

"Don't kill him!" 

"DID YOU JUST-?!" 

"-will make your lives pure misery-"  

"I should shoot y-!" 

"-s on stun!" 

Raph pulls it out and presses the button that he'd witnessed Karl smash once or twice, and the pressure on his wrists releases, freeing his limbs. Air rushes into his lungs when his nerves explode with a flurry of adrenaline and freedom, and he turns to the trio of villains as Tweedle Dumber frantically locks onto his target.

"NO!"

He dives onto all fours on pure instinct, and the laser flies right over his head. He takes off without missing a beat, and Nutjob ducks to the side before Raph can knock him down. Tweedle Dumber swings at him and he falls into a crouch, instincts taking hold as he growls.

The sound startles his assailant and he takes advantage to pounce. The human cries out and falls backward with the unexpected weight, toppling against the table behind him.

Raph leers over him as he struggles; the weight of his shell keeps him still. Yes! He's so tired of everyone besting him here and it's finally his turn. He's no animal and he won't be tamed and it's finally his chance to prove it!

The idiot shoves his weapon between them but Raph completely ignores it, smashing Tweedle Dumber closer to the table, right onto glass that cuts past the hopefully expensive suit. He writhes and shrieks, and Raph almost lets go- but he doesn't because that would be weakness- that's inviting more hate angry scared hurt, and all the pent-up helplessness and fear is so very convincing and blinding him to any other thought than to make him pay.

So he claws past the white black white not white fabric to make sure the human stays put- stabbing and hurting just likehe'd been stabbed and hurt-

The weapon drops from quivering hands and Raph can feel vibrations under his plastron, something deep in him demanding more than a simple disarming. He bares his teeth; the taste of blood on his tongue, but then spots a blur of black in his peripheral. It's heading towards him, so he releases his prey and drops down, narrowly avoiding a blow to the skull.

Tweedle Dumber's abandoned weapon falls with him, and he spots Tweedle Dumb hurrying to flip his laser.

Raph snatches it and swings, repaying the intended attack and watching him topple to the ground. He looks to the final danger just briefly, but Nutjob appears stunned, watching him as if seeing a mutant turtle for the first time. 

"Boss?!"

Raph whirls and spots the previously shut door now wide open, heart racing when he realizes that there are more goons than before. It's probably a mix of Nutjob's and the Twins', and he makes a split-second decision, abandoning the mad scientist in an attempt to take advantage of their surprise. He fires on several of the men in front, and that has the rest lifting their weapons, firing all at once. 

Nutjob's training has his impulse ready for this, but he's forced to release his new weapon to complete it. He charges to their left, ducking, rolling, and bounding, foiling their attempts to keep up and making it to the crowd before they have a chance to comprehend his plans. He tackles one of the men into the others, snagging his weapon to use as a bat and slamming the nearest goon in the head with the hilt.  

The knife proves to be almost as effective as sais, slashing past the grey and leaving trails of red.

Red is his color- his color- the color they took- so he continues to leave his mark. They're shouting and crying out as he throws them around, but he pays the noise no heed. He barely comprehends what he's doing at all, blinded by the adrenaline coursing through his veins. 

He sees the door. 

His mind clears enough for him to register the exit and he ignores the urge to continue battle, darting for it. A large man gets in his way, so he drives a blade into the goon's shoulder.

Raph dives over him as he falls, ricocheting off the pale blue wall and to the right since he knows left leads further into the facility and its torments. 

He scrambles through several halls and around corridors, looking for anything even slightly different in the carbon-copy halls, distant boots thudding behind him. All limbs skid around a corner to find a hall with an elevator at the end.

Everyone freezes. 

The exiting guards stare at him. He stares back. 

There's a shout from behind and a guard shifts his gun to aim. 

Raph snaps out of it. He charges. Finally. Finally! Escape is right there and there are only five of them! He can take them easy, and then he'll be home free! Free from the mafia and Karl and Nutjob and his insane experiments and training a-

"RAPHAEL, EVADE!"

The familiar command rings through the hall and sinks in without his consent. His vision tunnels as panic seers through him when he realizes how close he is to the dangers. He scrambles to stop before he can touch them- evade-evade-EVADE- skidding to the side and barreling through an open door. 

The room is unfamiliar; his surroundings are dark; his head and shoulders ache, but he did it. It was a close call, so close, too close, but he evaded and he didn't touch and he avoided the men and the-

Terror replaces relief as he recalls his derailed goal, spinning around to find his exit blocked by masked goons all aiming for him. 

A frantic hiss fills the air and then his cuffs suddenly lock underneath him. He topples onto his side, breathing heavily as he struggles to separate his limbs, and then finds a long shadow blocking the faint light that lets him see. 

He looks up with his heart in his throat and finds Nutjob with his back to him, an arm swiping the air. "No one shoots him or so help me-!" 

The threat hangs in the air, and then weapons lower. Nutjob waits, and then breathlessly nods his approval. He turns, digging into one of his pockets as he crouches at his prisoner's side. Raph struggles to raise himself, trying to get into a better defensive position, but Nutjob grasps his chin and tilts his head. Raph barely catches the needle out of the corner of his eyes. 

A soft whine hides behind his demand. "Don't- don't you-!" 

"This won't hurt." Ferrall injects it into Raph's neck. 

He pulls back the needle and Raph entirely expects intolerable pain, but instead, he feels oddly lightheaded, panting as gently Ferrall sets his head down. His body slumps onto his arms, which awkwardly prop him so that he can still see Ferrall as he gets back to his feet, addressing the men in the doorway.

A few new ones had appeared. The tear on a goon's shoulder tells him that they may have been from the previous mob. "I want Karl woken up and brought to me. Now."

A lacky salutes him before taking off down the hall, and the rest of the goons eye Raph warily.

They snap to attention when Ferrall states, "All personnel are to take the interlopers from the lab and to a briefing room. Do whatever is necessary and report back to me. Oh- and I want confirmation that no security has entered the premises. Understood? Now move!"

Several nods and then the men take off down the hall, apparently relieved to get as far from them as possible. Raph can still taste the liquidy copper on his teeth, shuddering at the realization of how maliciously Karl is going to punish him for practically taking a bite out of him.

He's worse than dead. His brothers will be lucky to find anything left to save.

A whimper slips into open air. He was so close...

The lights come on and Raph has the urge to flinch. His body doesn't react, and he can only faintly feel his limbs, panic swirling as he tries to figure out what Ferrall did to paralyze him. The mad scientist kneels next to him, pushing against his shoulder and knocking him onto his carapace. 

He wants to struggle, but his body remains unmoving, a faint drowsy feeling creeping into the back of his mind. Ferrall lifts his head, opening his mouth and examining inside of it, thoughtful gaze meeting his own. "You are certainly something, aren't you? And here I'd almost given up on you. But that little show in there..."

He shakes his head, almost in awe. "It is no wonder a man's primal fear of beasts has traveled over to mutants."

He doesn't realize that his fear must have been palpable until Nutjob coolly reassures, "I will not punish you for your arrogance. Not this time, at least. Not only have I gained valuable information, but you've unknowingly helped prove a point to those nitwits that I have been drilling in for months. Mutants are not pests. They are a danger. An infestation. One that I alone have the power to contain." 

His attention has gone distant for a moment; an ominous confidence in his tone, but Raph barely understands it, most of his energy on fighting to stay awake. 

"I'll admit you had me worried for a moment. All that research and I thought I'd chosen wrong." His eyes are sharp with interest as he examines the half-lidded eyes. "You were a good choice, Raphael. No, I will not punish you for assisting me to the next step."

Raph's brain feels like sludge. Cho-chose h-him? No, he wanted... They wanted... 

 "However, I cannot work properly with the Mafia breathing down my neck. Likewise, I need to do something about the other turtles. If they get wind of me, they could look in the right place and foil everything. I will not allow it."

His mouth is shut, but the careful pressure remains on his chin. His consciousness flickers, or maybe that's just his eyelids. No, no- leave them alo- alone- he can't- ca-an- don't-

"Rest now, Raphael. I will handle the complications. All one needs is the right stone..."