I hope so hard for the pain to go away 

And it's torturing me 

But I can't break free 

So I cry and cry, but just won't get it out 

The silent scream

***

Raph could use a nap.

Every time his eyes close, they open with the same drowsy exhaustion. He doesn't know how long he's allowed rest, but it's definitely never enough. Each training regime is beginning to blur together. Nutjob's new favorite game is to see how many things he can inject into Raph without making him pass out. He puts him up against Karl when he's too unsteady to survive a run-in with bombs or lasers. Evading Karl is a lot easier than avoiding bots, but when he gets caught the punishment is always so much worse. Karl likes to get creative with the fact that he can't defend, eager to tick Raph off so he fights back.

When Raph fights back, it give Karl permission to break bones and draw blood.

He prefers the bots. The bots are great.

He'll never make fun of brainless hunks of metal again.

Raph's lost track of the amount of times a needle pierced flesh, pushing in an unidentifiable liquid or removing blood or bone marrow. He doesn't flinch anymore when blades scrape off a bit of skin and shell.

Today- Tonight? He missed being able to tell time- Nutjob strapped him down and removed some of his carapace lip, brushing off his complaints that he already had a chunk of his plastron.

Raph's not sure how much shell he could possibly need.

Nutjob's the one who said that he wouldn't slice-and-dice a turtle. Whatever happened to that?

He vocalizes as much as clipboard returns to gloved hands.

Raph earns a knowing look that makes his gut churn with unease.

The pride is unmistakable. "I saw your brothers last night."

Raph doesn't understand what that has to do with anything. Why he's smiling like he's not traumatized from such an encounter. Why his buck-toothed face isn't completely caved in.

Or why he's still in this nightmare.

"Security feed caught a few faces." Oh. Well, boo to that. "The name Arnold Jones wouldn't happen to mean anything to you?"

He doesn't answer, slightly dumbfounded. Casey never mentioned a brother.

Nutjob's grin falters. "No? Really." He pulls out his phone, scrolling. "It's the name on file." He looks up, frowning. "Arnold Jones."

Raph shrugs, still having met none of Casey's relatives for their sanity and safety.

The frown deepens. "I have a hard time believing that considering how often you're reported with the hockey-themed high-schooler."

Raph blinks. Stares. Contemplates. Eyes widen because holy mother of mutations-

Is Casey's name actually ARNOLD?!

ARNOLD?!?!

He can't believe it. He can't believe that unhinged adrenaline-junkie would keep this from him. They were supposed to be friends. They'd been smacking baddies around for- what, two years? Three? Why is he only learning this now?

He'd never felt so utterly betrayed.

"Raphael?"

At least, he's sure this has to be somewhere in his top ten utter betrayals.

Casey is never going to hear the end of this. Ever. The first thing he'll do when he finally gets home is spread the word immediately because how dare he.

"Raphael."

He can see why he'd change it, but he feels like that's something he deserved to learn from Casey forever ago.

Not from this total whack job. Talk about spoilers.

"Raphael."

"You." Raph decides through gritted teeth. "Are the worst."

Nutjob scribbles on his board. "You'd be surprised how many people would disagree."

"Not surprised that a glorified loser would surround himself with blind blockheads."

He clicks his pen. "Wonder what that makes you."

Good point. He needs to make two guys lives absolute misery.

"Doc Ferrall?"

"Karl."

Nevermind. Make that three.

***

"Why can't you ever cooperate?"

Karl presses his knee against carapace, twisting his arm behind his shell. It's not necessarily painful so the snark comes easy. "Thought you liked the hard way?"

The frustrated rabbit pushes the arm further. His captive squirms under him, but the weight and the discomfort doesn't give him much wiggle room. The fights lacks its usual intensity, which is the only reason his abuser hasn't stooped to testing out new ways to cause pain.

"Just givin' you want you want."

"I don't have time to deal with this." Karl snaps. "Ferrall's waiting. You're just going to make it worse for the both of us."

"Make what worse? My torture?" Raph's tone is heavy with condensation. "Again. Thought that was something you liked. Don't see how that effects you."

"Are all of you turtles this arrogant, or is it just you?"

"Don't talk about them!"

"I'll talk about who I want." Karl leans forward, lowering his voice to a calculated whisper. "But if you'd rather wait until our conversation is a little more private..."

Raph pales and swallows, not daring to make any acknowledgement to the threat. He can feel the beady eyes boring into his skull, but he doesn't dare avert his gaze from the floor. He doesn't want to risk falling into fury or giving the mutant the satisfaction of seeing the fear that quickens his heart.

"That's what I thought."

He releases his arm, letting the aching appendage fall limp to the ground. Raph stays in the prone position, low migraine throbbing, cheek resting against cool floor.

The weight leaves his shell.

"On your feet."

Raph grimaces as he drags the concrete block that is his body from the ground. He brushes at the beading sweat on his forehead and his gaze strays on the unlocked cuffs. He knows better to assume that he has any kind of advantage. Having his hands free is more of a privilege than anything else. "Ya know something, Freakshow?"

"What did I tell you-"

"I wish this was chained."

That shuts him up. For a grand total of seventy-two seconds.

"You want chains? Are you some kind of sicko?"

"Just one. Right through here." He points mindlessly between the middle of the cuffs. "Sensei taught us a lot of stuff. Mostly defense. He was boring like that. And really into kidnapping." He pauses to eye the rabbit. "Like, if someone tried tying you up, you incapacitate them before escaping. Always use what you have. Like rope. Or cuffs. Get them on their back, chain around their throat-" He makes the motions, locking down his arms as if strangling someone. "-and they're out. 'Course, press too much and it's permanent."

Karl stares, wonderfully rendered mute.

"Sensei told us to keep it brief. Wasn't big on the whole murder thing." Raph holds his wrists up to the rabbit, pretending to measure the nonexistent chain against his neck. "I'd like to think there's another timeline where I get to ask forgiveness 'stead of permission."

He watches Karl's face color despite his ruffled fur, fury locking his muscles.

But, really, where did he think that was going?

"Meh." Raph lets his hands fall limp to his lap. "A turtle can daydream."

His shell takes the full impact of his new violently changed position against the wall. He groans as a hand locks around his throat to toss him a second time, carapace slotting neatly into the far corner. Raph doesn't bother to move, pain taking it's time in infecting aching bruises, "Someone's got a tempeeer."

"You got something to say to me?!"

Raph's everything throbs. "Ow."

"Get over it." Karl sneers. "Now get up."

He blinks dumbly. "One day, you're- gonna break somethin' master can't fix."

"Ferrall doesn't want you intact." The cuffs lock. Raph's too tired for another round of torture, but he knows that nothing he does can get him out of it. "I already told you. He wants you because he thinks you'll be the easiest to crack. You talk like a big man, but you're weak. And Ferrall's gonna fix-"

Raph stops listening. Whether or not it's true, he'd rather let Karl monologue about how pathetic he is than risk opening his mouth.

He wonders what's taking his brothers so long. He doesn't blame them for the delay. He didn't even know Ferrall existed before his kidnapping, and he doesn't know where he's being held. It'll take them some time to track him down.

He wishes they'd hurry up though.

"...way I see it, Ferrall's not a very sharing guy." Dude really likes to hear himself talk. Gonna give Mikey a run for his money. "Once he figures you out, he'll figure out the others. He'll collect every mutant in and out of this city and he'll make them his. So good news for both of us. I get a formal introduction, and you get your precious brothers."

A quite scoff escapes. Karl voice drops in warning, shadow crossing over him. "Something you wanna say to me?"

"They're not gonna go down easy." Raph meets his glare. "Not now that you took me. Nutjob played his hand too soon. Now they know you're after turtles. They're gonna be sleeping with an eye open. You think I'm difficult?" His chest swells with a familiar pride as he smirks. "You have no idea what you're dealing with."

Karl snarls. "We'll see."

"Yeah." Raph challenges. "You will."

He's prepared when Karl strikes him so hard that he sees stars.

***

His jaw is sore as he's dragged into the electricity room. He doesn't know why they bother with the blindfold at this point. He could easily make it from the Room to the lab or the white room or anywhere else with or without the annoying piece of fabric. Not that he necessarily wants them to know this.

He anxiously awaits being shoved into the chair.

Instead he feels the cuffs separate before his arms are lifted into the air. His legs are kicked out, individually placed in shackles of their own. They close automatically at the pressure. The furred grip releases him, but his hands remain upright, and he feels the blindfold slip off.

Raph immediately turns his attention to his inexplicably unmoving arms. The metal cuffs are pressed against tall poles, obediently remaining in place. By now, Raph's knows better than to bother pulling against restraints.

Dread pools in his stomach as he scans the room. He can see the back of the electric chair amongst the machinery and other tech. A bitter comment about the decor is on the tip of his tongue until he catches the rabbit's narrowed eyes. They dare him to let it reach open air and face the consequences. He clamps his mouth shut.

He turns away when Karl smirks, shame twisting at him even more than the nerves.

"Well, well. A quiet Raphael. Isn't this a welcome surprise."

Raph's face grows warm as his teeth grit, letting the embarrassment swallow his fear. His eyes dart to locate the owner of the taunting voice, but it comes from somewhere behind him, and he gives up as Nutjob adds. "A less welcome surprise is how long retrieval took. Five minutes off schedule, Karl."

"I was dealing with obstinance." Karl bows his head away from Nutjob, but Raph can see the simmering hatred in his glare. It's more than obvious that they bear no love for one another, and he wonders why the rabbit even works for him. "Discipline takes time."

"Excuses." Ferrall's voice goes from neutral to icy. "You know how I feel about excuses."

"The subject was being irrational and it was only a few minu-"

A startled cry, and Raph's body reacts, flinching hard as the rabbit thuds to his knees. Both paws claw into the floor for some kind of grounding hold, and sparks of yellow dance along the fur in his neck, drawing Raph's gaze to the collar that is evidently not some stupid accessory. Every muscle is tense as Karl bears through his own portable torture, then the sparks stop, and he pants, ears flat against his skull as he tries to compose himself.

"Only a few minutes." Ferrall hisses from somewhere behind Raph, and the hothead tenses at the venom in it. "As you just experienced, a few minutes can be detrimental, Karl. Now you're ten minutes behind, so let's get on with it, shall we?"

"Yes, sir." Karl wheezes breathlessly as he stands, refusing to make eye contact with their captive as he passes out of his line of sight. Raph knows first-hand how horrible those shocks are, and the very thought of them sends a shudder through his body.

Then it hits him that whatever they're going to do can't be the shocks, because the set-up is different and they're behindhim.

This can't be good. It can't-

"There. Yes. Do a test? Good. Now to the shell."

Just get it over with. Just getitoverwith-

"Yes, Ferrall." The dark edge is back and closer, and Raph has to fight to keep down the panic that's turning his world to static.

"I want you to start it off nice and easy. We're only testing durability. Anything more than a crack could ruin him."

Any more than a- a what ?

"You don't say."

Why does he always have to sound like that!?

"I'm serious, Karl. Measured swings."

SWINGS?

"Yes, Ferrall."

WHAT IS GOING-

"Begin."

Something solid slams his carapace and sends a shock wave through his body, like a muted gong. He gasps at the sudden force, shutting his eyes and bracing himself as it happens several times more, each swing of something more intense than the last. It quickly goes from aching discomfort to spiking bolts of pain, the dense nerves in his scutes weakening.

"Wait."

Raph realizes that he's been holding his breath when it comes out in a burst, bowing his head and hoping that Ferrall will comprehend just how bad of an idea this is, and this test would be a quick one. His shell is pretty much his spine, and even idiots know how important that is.

Just because his spine is stronger than most people's doesn't mean that when it breaks, he won't break too!

"-when you break, he'll tear you apart, stitch you back together, and then start all over again."

Shaking fists clench. Karl's just trying to get in his head. Don't let him in, don't let him-

"Ferrall wants you because he thinks you'll be the easiest to crack."

Get out! Get out! SHUT UP-!

"-right there. Good. Continue."

He goes rigid when Ferrall's voice rings clear. No, no, no, wait, don't-

"Ahh-!" Air is ripped from his lungs as the swings rise in intensity, and his body reacts by trying to take cover within the assaulted protection, only to be forcefully held still. His instincts scream as loud as the terror, and he can barely make it out anymore, a strained whine escaping as the consistent pain rockets through each nerve.

Then something cracks.

He hears it just as much as he feels it, and it's not loud, but it still echoes- a deafening ringing inside of his skull that has him gasping in pain, unaware of much more than the horror. They broke his shell they broke his shell theybrokehisnonono- this can't be happening! This can't be happening! Thiscan'tbe-

"You chirp."

Breathing heavily, Raph's snaps to face the scientist staring him down critically from his right side, pen poised over his clipboard. "What other sounds do you make?"

This really isn't the time to talk about - sounds? chirps? what does the even mean he doesn't- HE BROKE HIS SHELL- hasn't since he was little- badbadbadbadsobad- doesn't matter- HURTS- Why are they focuSING ON THIS HIS SHELL-

"Hmm." Each tap on his clipboard sounds like a jackhammer, jarring him to the realization that the walls are not closing on him and nothing is on his chest preventing him from breathing- so why is it so hard-

"You're shaking." Ferrall informs him blandly. "You're getting yourself all worked up. It was only one of your vertebral scutes. Didn't break through. So you'll live, I'll get to see if the carapace heals similarly to the plastron, and Karl won't need further discipline. Wins all around."

Since his captor is clearly an imbecile, Raph decides to pull a Donnie and elaborate before he tries this again and kills him. He has a whole line of insults and declarations, but all that comes out is a breathy- "Won't- heal."

Ferrall frowns. "It's a turtle's strongest means of defense. Logic says that a mutant turtles' shell should share the increased healing. What would be the point otherwise?"

Raph only huffs, and Ferrall considers the bit of information, eyes trailing to where his lighting bolt scar used to be. "That cut on your plastron. How long had it been there?"

"Before... I could w-alk." He tries to focus on what he's saying. Anything to distract from the pain. "Years. Small stuff... Slow- healing. Big wounds- maybe never."

This was a part of the reason Leo's cracked shell had scared them so bad. It hadn't broke through layers, which is why it was safe to keep him unwrapped and soaking in the tub, but Donnie wasn't sure the crack was something he could heal from.

Not a week later, their brainy brother started obsessing over the mutegenic medicine. He got no sleep, his temper was worse than ever, and no one could stand him for a solid month. Mikey managed to get him to chill out a bit, but the air of jerk never really went away. In the end, it worked better than they could have dreamed. Donnie showed Raph how much to give him, how to trigger the swallow reflex, gave two thousand reminders to be careful or he'll choke, and then became a decent member of society again. Within a few weeks, Leo awoke.

Donnie's aggressions were forgiven in an instant. Raph swore never to doubt anything that Donnie set his mind on.

Raph couldn't take that chance here. He had no idea when his brothers would come for him. Donnie could do a lot, but raising the dead was his limit. Nutjob may call himself a scientist, but no one can do what Donnie can.

His younger brother is a mad scientist in the best of ways, while this guy gives them a bad name. It hits him that none of them actually ever thanked Donnie for his hours slaved away over the medicine. It was barely mentioned other than Leo's complaints about the taste.

Some days he thinks that they take Donnie for granted.

"I said I was busy!"

"We don't do anything! What could you possibly be busy with?"

"Avoiding your attitude, for one! I'm beginning to think it's impossible!"

"Because yours is sooo much better!"

"So leave me alone!"

"I wish I could! But someone, won't. Fix. THE TV!"

"You fix it! I'm tired of always fixing things around here!"

"Why?! It's not like you're good for much else!"

Or maybe, it's just him that took all of them for granted.

"How do I know you're not just telling me this to prevent further tests?"

Raph glares at him through misty eyes. "Would me- dyin' be enou-gh proof? Th-hen go a-head."

"Hmm." More of the impossibly loud tapping. "I suppose it's worth further research." He turns his head expectantly. "Karl? Escort him."

With a swish of his lab coat, Ferrall strides from the room, and Raph's bones turn to jelly with the tidal wave of relief. It overrides the panic and stings that originate from the fact he can still feel the crack, so he doesn't bother dwelling on the knowledge that this might happen again. The pain is always there in one form or another, but relief is short lived.

Karl mutely opens the ankle shackles before disengaging the cuff's magnetic attachment, and Raph crumbles to his hands and knees, catching himself before he collapses to the ground. The motion launches acid to his throat, and the bile that he didn't notice rising is swallowed down.

When he's relatively certain that he's not about to spew everywhere, he looks up. He says nothing for a while, watching the collared mutant who's glaring at the lab door as if it had personally murdered everyone that he cares about.

Raph lowers his gaze to his hands and focuses on his breathing, trying to collect his wits. The whisper comes of it's own accord. "Wh-why do y-ou work for hhim?"

He can feel Karl's stare shift. "What?"

"Bossess you around. SShocks you. Grade A- jerk." Raph mutters to the long scar that trails from his knuckles to the bottom of his hand from where a barb got past his defenses. He can clearly picture the way Karl seemed to battle through the shocks, waiting for them to pass as if the treatment wasn't abnormal. "Why st-ahy?"

"Where would I go?" The snarl in his voice causes Raph to cringe, expecting a physical rebuttal of some kind. He gets it, and Karl kicks his shoulder, knocking him onto his carapace.

Pain shoots up his shell as the crack collides with the ground, and he blinks away reflexive tears, staring wearily at the leering figure. "Out there, to be cut apart by the government? Can't get a job, an apartment- can't even go outside without someone calling the police."

"Besides..." Karl steps on his wrist, and Raph gasps when the rabbit's weight crushes it. "Ferrall isn't so bad. He lets me have full reign over his pathetic experiments as long as I don't ruin them. Just doesn't like when I fail, even though some don't learn."

Karl presses down harder and Raph hisses in pain, starting to pull himself up.

"Touch me and I break your wrist."

He freezes, horrified eyes shooting up to meet the beedy gray, and finds that they're lit up with a twisted malice at the prospect. He clearly wants him to try and shove him off, to keep pushing so he has an excuse to grant the crippling punishment. "You don't need both today. I'm sure Ferrall will understand."

He turns his head away, untrimmed talons digging into his palm of his free hand as he tries to ignore the new source of pain, choking on air when Karl grinds it into the floor. "But I guess you can learn, can't you? Probably why Ferrall gives you the time of day. More brains than most specimens. Just need some proper insensitive."

It feels like it's only a little more pressure away from snapping when the foot is removed, and he immediately rolls on his side to cradle it to his chest, shielding it from the rabbit's sight.

It doesn't make sense anymore.

Raph made a show of not caring, but he never actually liked hurting the lowlifes.

Not- not really. Not like this. He just-

He had too.

He's known that humans would try to hurt his family since he was small enough to comprehend that not everyone was green or furry. He'd seen the way Splinter bled from a bullet wound when he was the ripe age of five years old, pale and wrapping his arm in bandages as he said that it was only an accident, refusing to look Raph in the eyes.

Mikey kissed the boo-boo, Donnie fiddled with the first aid, and Leo looked at Raph like Raph looked at him.

They knew he was lying.

The next time he went out, Leo and Raph talked their brothers into a turtle pile.

They didn't understand, all laughs and giggles and whispers. Leo relaxed as the night pressed on, snuggling into Mikey's octopus hold and falling straight asleep. Donnie snoozed on his shoulder, hugging a pillow and mumbling about gears.

Raph stayed up until Splinter came home, eyes burning and fists tight.

He fell asleep to his father's fond hand against his forehead.

"Thank you for watching out, my brave son. Rest now."

Raph knew he wasn't the best person in the universe. He made his fair share of mistakes when his temper gets the better of him. Sometimes he can't help it. He gets uncontrollable when things become too much, because the anger and sorrow is eating him up inside, and he lashes out. He decided early that this didn't have to be a bad thing.

When he was the loudest, meanest voice, people looked at him instead of his brothers. He learned to push back so his brothers didn't have to. He does it to protect- himself, his family, their friends, New York-

Raph'd thought maybe Karl was in the same boat.

An emotional guy being forced to hurt people. A normal person told that he's something that he's not. Brainwashed into acting like the monster that Nutjob was convinced they were. Maybe he didn't want to be here any more than Raph did. Maybe there was more to it. But... Karl treats it like it's so simple.

Like willingly participating in brutal violence is the obvious choice no matter how you looked at it.

He can't understand. It doesn't make sense.

"...Why?"

The sides of his jaw are grasped, and he knows that means he wants Raph to look at him, so he peels open his eyes to take in the mocking sneer. "I'm a freakshow, remember? Just a big old freak in a house of bigger freaks. So I'd say I fit in around here juuust fine."

He tosses him like a misused ragdoll and Raph's hands fly out to keep him from skidding, blooding smearing from the marks in his palm. He lifts them to stare blankly at his hands, one bleeding and one fuzzy with biting pins-and-needles, and then his body numbly slumps in defeat, forehead rest against the cool floor.

"Great. Now I have to clean that up." Karl grumbles as his head is raised and the blindfold is tied. Raph's arms move of their own accord to lock together. "Whatever. I'll worry about it after I get you to the tank."

Raph stirs, trying to process the revelation. "W-what?"

"Get to your feet. We're moving."

What? What? No. Nonono- wait- they're done. He's done. It's done- they're taking a break, they're done- he's done- it's not fair why can't he get a break this one time, please, please- hurts it hurts everything hurts- this one time why can't he finally just be done-

"I said. Get. UP."

***

They do this constantly- chucking him into this deep pool of water and leaving him there until he's hanging on the edge of a thread, desperate for just one gulp of life-giving air.

Sometimes, they stay on the top of the stairway and, sometimes, like now, one or both of them stand on the other side of the transparent wall and stares.

Sometimes, Ferrall injects something first, and sometimes, he feels it, but sometimes, he doesn't get the privilege of knowing what's happening until his blood burns or adrenaline kicks in for no reason, forcing his body to act on impulse.

Ferrall likes to wait, seated comfortably on a cushioned chair and always working on something to pass the time, snapping into attention the moment any kind of reaction begins.

It doesn't take many sessions for Raph to realize that the faint hisses and whines that prickle recognition of stop and helpare coming from him, and if Ferrall's to be taken seriously, they're involuntary cries that can only be heard because the water makes them echo.

It's embarrassing, that they happen suddenly and scare him each time. He wishes he could stop himself from making them.

Even though Ferrall can't speak turtle, it's not hard to guess why he's making the pitiful sounds.

He has no choice but to hope that Nutjob knows what he's doing, throwing him into the pool with a crack in his shell, but despite being a scientist, he's a pretty huge moron, so Raph won't be making any bets on it.

His lungs feel like they're contracted inwards as Karl enters the room from a door behind Nutjob, evidently done cleaning the blood from the floor, or whatever else he does when he's not tormenting captives.

Raph blinks sleepily, staring down at his wrapped hand and the blotch of red along the bandages on his palm. Nutjob thought he'd injured himself so he didn't have to go in, but was more than happy to defy that expectation. Karl let Nutjob believe it, a smug smirk shadowing his features as the rabbit shoved him into the water.

He hadn't moved since he hit the ground, and the water had warmed long ago, comforting and familiar in a way that he can't explain.

Raph thinks maybe he drifts off at some point, because he's jerked into reality when there's a sharp tug around his shell, and he gasps.

Water rushes in as he clamps his mouth shut, coughs trying to escape as his lungs beg to be allowed to get rid of the liquid that should not be taking the place of air. He scrambles to get up, but his abused wrist fails to hold his weight and he crumples, lunged down by the liquid in his lungs as a shrill, desperate whine echoes throughout the water.

His body leaves the firm contact with the ground, and he can't tell if he's rising or sinking as the water whirls around him. Fear consumes his senses as he thrashes, frantically trying to get whatever's holding him in the water off, and then he's exhaling in harsh coughs.

He sucks in an inward breath before he can stop himself, bringing with it an inexplicable, impossible fire that burns down his throat and into his lungs-

His body falls limp.

The fear dissipates as if it was never there, and suddenly the spinning water isn't quite so terrifying.

It's almost soothing, like the water is taking the chaos in his mind and embracing it to just letting him float. Tiny bubbles rise above him, new specks of white clouding his view as his eyes start to flicker shut-

-two hands grab hold of the shoulder straps and yank him free of the water.

He land roughly as he's tossed on a firm surface. The force against his carapace launches a stream of water from his mouth, spewed into the air, only to spray all over his face and surroundings. The burning begins all over again, like he swallowed acid instead of water and it's coating every inch of his chest, and then his face is being forced to the side.

The sharp click of unbuckled metal. An aggressive slam against his plastron causes new pain, gasping and choking as he coughs out more water, body shivering as every desperate attempt to get rid of the liquid burns more than the last.

It's excruciating, and he wants whoever's doing it to put him back in the water- put him back please put him back- where things were finally calm and quiet and everything had stopped hurting- it hurts-

A blur of gray hovers over him as the harness is removed, a strangely muffled voice shouting as he's turned onto his chest. Most of the water is out, but his body continues trying to heave and purge whatever else it can, a weak, agonized sob escaping as he curls up in the puddle of water and sick that came from inside him.

"-sgusting- move him!"

In a moment a clarity, he recognizes the voice, reality flooding back as furred paws matted down by water grab his shoulders and drag him further from the tank. The tank he'd almost drowned in. He'd almost drowned. They'd almost killed him.

He'd almost died.

"-im off- becomes ill- urtle! He- know better-"

He was almost free.

He's leaned against something metallic and cold as his cuffs lock together, faint wheezes escaping with every breath. Something travels down his shoulder, thick and sticky, and a gag hits the back of his throat. He keels over, swallowing so rapidly that he almost forgets to breathe. He watches as the water ripples die down, calmer now that his troubles belong only to him once more.

He tries to take a deep breath, but the acid stings down his throat. His body isn't ready for the new dose of air, and he breaks into a fit of coughs that cause his lungs to burn all over again. He would have fallen over if there wasn't a steady hand on his shoulder, keeping him from knocking his skull against the floor.

When he regains the ability to hold himself up, something coarse, but soft is dragged over aching skin and scales. He pants raggedly, wheezing and swallowing, trembling with the impossible chill deep in his bones.

His face is gone over, but then his cheeks become wet again, watching the world pass by but not quite taking it in.

Ferral is pacing. Karl is begrudgingly wiping him off. Ferrall speaks. Karl looks at him and shrugs. Ferrall shouts, striding over to them. Karl moves. Ferrall sets down the clipboard. Ferrall stares at him, frustrated and cold. Ferrall raises a hand and snaps his fingers. Ferrall snaps again. Ferrall speaks, a harsh command- and reaches- no, wait, don't touch-!

He flinches away from the offending hand and Ferrall frowns, "You were not responding, Raphael. Are you back?"

He never got to leave.

"Raphael."

Fear zips through him as he realizes he's being addressed and he nods jerkily, as if doing it for the first time.

"Good."

Ferrall touches him anyway, and Raph's head sags, letting the examination happen because there's nothing he can do to stop it, especially not with Karl hovering directly behind Ferrall. His gaze falls on the clipboard, and he sees a string of numbers- of times- that squirm and dance before his eyes. He spots one higher than the rest, and he can't help the stir of amusement, a snort followed by a round of coughs.

Fifty-two minutes. That'll show 'em.

His vision spots and he can't feel his shivering body anymore.

Sharp commands ring out, merged together and distant.

Why can't they shut up- shut up- he's so tired-

"Raphael, I need yo- reathe. -ael, I need- liste-"

He's so...

"Raphael!"