There's a special place in Hell

A zero-star hotel

Don't worry 'bout your stay

'Cause I've already paid

There's a special place in Hell 

For you

***

Raph's list of things to hate is endless. 

He doesn't even think he could get through all of them if he tried, and when his brothers finally show, he is definitely going to try. They leave him imprisoned for who-knows-how-long and they can take what they can get. Not like he can whine to his heart's content here. 

When he made the mistake of letting such thoughts slip free, Karl had taken it as a challenge. With a malicious sneer and brass knuckles pressing against his Adam's apple, Karl'd cruelly pried a reluctant admittance from his exhausted body. 

He liked the food. 

It was the first thing that came to mind. It was also true enough that the rabbit was satisfied. 

Raph had sat in that cell for hours after Karl dropped him and strode out, stock-still and terrified at the dawning realization that they might begin withholding his meals. Karl would be more than happy for any excuse to increase his misery. 

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. He didn't dare sleep. He just waited. 

Despite every inch of his mind drowning in the certainty of what was to come, nothing changed. 

Raph assumes that Nutjob doesn't want to risk malnourishment. A turtle that can't function is a turtle that can't do tests. As much as he'd like to be able to look his brothers in the eyes and say he was strong enough to refuse food and rid the mad scientist of his experiment- he can't. 

He's always shaking and ravenous when food does arrive. 

He's stubborn, but he's not strong enough to refuse what every inch of him craves. It's suicide.

He hates life under Nutjob's care, but he's nowhere near suicidal. 

Raph breathes in. He closes his eyes and reverses to the previous line of thought before he can continue dwelling on the dangerous one. He breathes out.

Food. 

Fine. 

It's usually in the form of meat salads, unless Nutjob is feeling particularly pleased with the latest round of torture and decides to 'gift' him with fish and fruits. Everything has to be eaten by hand, probably so he doesn't give into the urge to gauge out someone's eyes with a fork or spoon. It isn't a terrible precaution considering he's a ninja trained in the arts of using even comic books as weapons.

Man. He missed comic books. 

Might as well add that to the list.

Aw, prison apples. Now he's hungry.

He just had to think about food...

He hates getting hungry and knowing there's nothing he can do about it. Rationing food only makes the time in between meals seem longer. He's not sure if that's Nutjob's doing or if it's all in his head. At the very least, the price of eating is sleep.

That's the only time it's brought. Sometimes by Karl. Sometimes by masked gang members. 

Raph tried faking once. He successfully whacked the food-delivery mobster with the plate and then took down the three guards outside the door. He'd barely made it up a few stairs before Karl appeared to knock him down and out.

He woke up in the electricity room and experienced what Ferrall calmly called needle therapy.

A shudder runs through Raph's body and he clenches his fists where they're extended into a kata, pushing the illusions of pain and fear as far out of reach as he can.

It doesn't matter that every second of it hurt or that every second after lasted in slow-ticking agonizing eternity. 

It doesn't matter that whatever muscle-loosening technique Ferrall did worked enough for him to announce that he'd try it again the next time Raph felt the need to 'act out'.

It doesn't matter that the memory is burned into the back of his mind as an ominous, taunting reminder of what's to come if he fails another test or escape attempt.

It doesn't matter, because as soon as his brothers storm the place, Raph's going to get far, far away from Nutjob and his needles.

He delivers a swift kick to the air, bringing in his arms as he completes a roundhouse spin, and grunts when his leg hits the ground. A spasm of stabbing pain shoots up his right thigh at the new weight and his knees almost buckle. He catches himself, forcing his trembling body into a calculated crouch, beads of sweat travel down his neck.

Raph hasn't seen either of his tormentors in a few meals. The tension had been stifling, and he knows he should be resting, but he can't stop the restless anticipation that twists his gut. He doesn't know what he's anticipating, but it won't leave him alone.

Unable to sit still any longer, he decided to see how far he could get through a few rounds of simple katas. He hates that the movements that were once perfectly fluid are pained and stiff.

The reason for this change is no mystery. The only constant other than food is the so-called training, even if the challenges have changed since day one. He's fought several different kinds of robots and drones, used his skills to bypass a perfectly simulated minefield, and gone through four obstacle courses that focused on all-fours travel.

He's actually insanely awesome. 

Not that anyone's surprised. 

Raph knows better than to try loopholes anymore. Even if the whole walking-like-a-dog-thing is getting easier to manage, they usually come back to bite him in the shell. He doesn't need to risk causing more problems for himself in the long run.

Raph lets out his breath slowly, air trembling on its way out, and then takes in a new breath. The ache is still there, but it's not as bad as his body gets used to the position, even managing to relax into it.

If he closes his eyes, he can picture Mikey and Donnie beside him; their youngest brother practically hovering as he asks Raph what's wrong for the millionth time and Donnie silently notes every twinge of pain, preparing to corner him into a check-up later. He hates that Leo is no longer in that imaginary line with them, always standing in front to lead them through katas, to remind Raph of exactly why things can never feel normal.

"You have to take training more seriously, Raphael."

"Back off, Leo."

"You'd never shirk lessons in the past. Why now?"

"You know why."

"I know I'm not Splinter, but-"

He shoves away the hand meant for comfort. "I said back off!"

"No!" His feet are planted, stance unmoving. "As your sensei, I'm supposed to-"

"Whoever said we wanted you to be our sensei?!"

A soft click and Raph doesn't bother looking up, because no mobster ever enters when he's awake- how they always know when he's sleeping, he can't figure out- which leaves only one other option. His personal bully is here to drag him off for the latest round of torture.

"If it isn't Ferall's little pet playing fetch." He gets to his feet, purposefully straightening every muscle despite the ache buried in his bones, and the burning on his thigh as it begs for relief. Be stronger than the pain. Be stronger than the pain. "Don't you have anything better to do? A carrot to nibble on or something?"

He earns a passive sneer. "My time belongs to Ferrall, same as yours."

"Mutant pet." Raph spits distastefully. "I don't belong to anybody."

"And you've been following orders all on your own?" His arms lock as the blindfold emerges. Karl leers over him, and he unflinchingly meets the glare. "How very tame of you."

Oh, he'll show him tame.

The rabbit reaches to put on the blindfold and Raph ducks his head to the side. This earns him a knee to the gut. He stumbles back, and Karl follows his steps as an ear twitches. "We doing this the hard way, then?"

Karl curls his hands into a fist and swings down when he remains doubled over. "Fine by me!"

Raph waits until the last second to swerve aside. His assailant is knocked off-balance by the force of his own blow. 

Raph throws his shoulder into his left side and succeeds in making him lose his footing. He spins when Karl stumbles and slams his cuffed fists into the side of his skull. 

The mutant goes down hard, the chains across his suit clattering upon meeting with the floor, and Raph plants a foot on him, leaning his weight in firm dominance. "Let's get one thing straight, freakshow. I. Am not. An animal. I'm a mutant. You can't tame me. You can't train me. And I won't stop fighting until my brothers show up to kick all your sadistic butts."

Karl shakes off the pain, surprise morphing into disgust. "What even makes you think they're coming?"

"I don't think. I know." 

Raph's never been this sure of anything. Even if he didn't have proof from past experiences, he wouldn't have felt any less. They're a crime-fighting family and getting each other's shells out of insane danger is practically their favorite pastime.

At least, before things went 'quiet'.

Still, they're coming for him, and he doubts that anyone in the facility understands simple things like loyalty and faith, so there's no point in explaining anyway.

Karl grins. "I guess that leaves me no choice."

A hand shoots out to jab at Raph's bandaged thigh, and he cries out when the leg crumbles out from underneath him, falling to a knee as pain rockets across in his torso. Karl climbs to his feet as though nothing happened, leaning to roughly tie on the blindfold.

"I'm going to have to do something about that." Raph winces as the taut sides of the fabric dig into his cheekbones, and then a hand hooks his underarm, forcing him to his feet. "Slow them down, maybe. You could survive without that leg, couldn't you?"

Raph can barely keep his footing with how bad he's shaking, and swallows down the fear, snapping, "He'll know it was you."

"Of course, but I'm meant to discipline rowdy specimens, remember?" The cool tone softens dangerously, careful to share a secret meant only for them. "Ferrall has cameras everywhere, but I know codes. Who's to say one night when Doc is out, I don't decide to use them? Stage a little escape attempt? Have a little fun of my own?"

The air is stuck in his throat, mingling with his false bravo and heartbeat as Karl chuckles, "My word against yours, Raphael."

He sounds like he's relishing the thought, the hand on his arm tightening possessively, claws digging into bruised skin. Raph remains rooted to the spot, acutely aware of how small and helpless he feels in that moment, in the dark and at the mercy of a maniac. He can only imagine what Karl's idea of 'a little fun' might be and the thought terrifies him more than any test of Ferrall's can.

His shoulders slump, muscles loosening to give into the hold, and Karl relaxes his grip.

"That's what I thought."

Raph feels a sharp tug and numbly allows himself to be led through the facility before the threat can become a reality. Every step shoots a new spasm of pain, but they're manageable and distract from the terror seeping in, so in a way, he's grateful. He doesn't know what's coming next, but it has to be better than whatever Karl has in mind.

The sooner he's traded out for Ferrall, the better.

***

Karl removes the blindfold at the metal door and Raph gets a momentary glance at blue walls before being surrounded by the impossibly pristine white once more. The door shuts, but the cuffs do not unlock. The break in routine triggers a flush of panic, but Raph keeps an outward cool, looking to the transparent wall expectantly. 

He frowns as Karl opens the door and says something, frustrated that he never took Donnie up on the lip-reading lessons. There's a brief exchange between the two. Nutjob remains dismissive and distracted, his attention on the monitor, fingers impatiently tapping the desk near the room's console. Karl's grimace deepens into a scowl and Nutjob looks up with mild irritation, seemingly giving the last word.

With the posture of a pouting child, Karl leaves the room.

Raph remains where he was shoved, scrutinizing the scientist on the other side. Nutjob turns away as the door shuts behind Karl and then seems to take notice of the abandoned turtle, merely gesturing for him to move further into the room. 

Raph begrudgingly heads away from the only means of escape, warily lowering himself down next to a portion of the wall and floor that doesn't have hidden attachments. 

After several minutes of anxious anticipation and Ferrall not being bothered to acknowledge his existence, Raph stands up. The room is buzzing in silence as he soundlessly travels to the nearest floor hatch, crouching down and tracing the line indent in the floor. 

Certain hatches contain certain objects, but the only ones that he's seen inside are the mine cubbies. He wonders if the bots are loaded on a lower floor and if there is any chance of using it as an escape route. 

The door slams open and Raph shoots to his feet, stepping away from the hatch and checking on Nutjob. The scientist's posture is loose as he stands and adjusts his lab coat, so Raph knows he's not in trouble. His arms are useless when his personal bully invades his space once more. 

He instinctively steps back because this is not how this works. 

Now he tra- fights. Now he fights. 

He fights and runs and evades; that's how this works. 

This is new, and he doesn't like it at all. 

"What-"

The cloth that normally covers his eyes is roughly wrapped around his mouth. He gags reflexively as Karl grabs his arm and drags him towards the door. Raph swallows down a condemning and useless remark about the lack of a blindfold. 

Nutjob waits for them in the hall, attention visibly elsewhere as he begins walking. Raph takes in the long blue halls and annoyingly closed doors. It looks like some sort of horror movie hallway. Other than numbers that are plastered a little higher than his eye level, there's no change in the hallways they turn into. 

They head down a stairway and Raph recognizes the doors on the lower floor. Every single one of them looks just as reinforced as the others and they're all shut. One of these cells has to be his. He figured the guys had more than one, but... There are so many... 

What else does Nutjob have stashed down here? 

Raph subconsciously braces his heels against the ground and Karl jostles him, forcing him to stumble a few steps. His teeth dig into the fabric with a dark look to the mutant that won't even look him in the eyes. Nutjob stops at a door and fiddles with his pocket. 

Chances are, he's about to find out. 

The door clicks permission for entrance so he pulls it open, stepping inside with a cool air that makes Raph wonder if they'd already tamed whatever is stashed in there. 

A low growl welcomes them into the room much like his own, and the first thing he sees is the bars of red slanted horizontally about a foot away from the door, leaving enough room to walk from the door to the wall across the room and then back. A metal doorway intersects near the other wall, guarded by similar streaks of red. 

"Don't worry." Karl taunts in a low tone. "The lights are too bright to look through. We're practically invisible on this side..." 

His unease blossoms into new fear as he recognizes the implications of placing him on the other side with- whatever's back there. His eyes scan the dark and lock onto sudden movement.

He scans the figure behind the lasers. His eyes slowly widen in shock. 

It's huge. Scarlet illuminates the sickly grey scales and spiky shell. The spikes protrude from the carapace while the cracked and scarred plastron brandishes some of its own. Long talons claw into the ground as it keeps itself steady and upright. The beak is more pronounced than his or his brothers, more similar to Slashes, but thinner at the end. 

It's- a turtle?

"Macrochelys temminckii." Raph's head snaps to the scientist watching the beast with a tone of expectancy and pride. It almost reminds him of the way Donnie speaks when his younger brother expects him to care about whatever nerd thing he's ranting about that day. 

He quickly dismisses the thought because he doesn't like comparing his compassionate younger brother to the psycho.  "Not the same species as you and your brothers, I know, but I could not help but be inspired by you four. By your mind, agility, skill, savagery." 

There's something in his gaze that Raph can't read. Goosebumps rise over his arms and now his heels purposefully dig to keep him in place when Karl tries moving him. 

Ferrall pays them no attention, stuck in a villain monologue as he digs through a pocket. "It was astonishing. I wanted to harness that. I needed to harness it. I was unaware of your species at the time, but I knew I didn't want any old turtle. I aimed high, but the results were unfavorable. The aggression is there, but there's also a frustrating lack of response to my methods."

Raph is less than surprised when they move toward the laser door, primal yellow eyes never quite landing. The lasers disappear and he's shoved through. 

He staggers before getting his footing, whirling as Karl smugly releases the button on the metal frame. Officially sealing him in with-

A low growl from behind him has his shoulders hiking up, stiff as his stomach contracts with an anxiety-fueled frustration. Every movement is slow and calculated as he faces the mutant. It might be twice as big as Slash, maybe bigger still, and his buddy was already massive.

It's just as cautious as he is, but it looks- wrong. 

One eye is contracted and the other is dilated, drool dripping on the floor as it sniffs the air. The scents that it finds; it doesn't like. It's closer now, remaining on all fours as a low growl filters between them. Even the way it growls sounds off, but not in a way that he can explain. 

It just... Does.

Somehow he knows it's only a warning, that it's just trying to figure him out. He's not in danger.

Yet.

Boney claws try to cling to the floor, spikes along its back flexing as it growls again. 

It wants him out. 

Too bad it's not up to him. 

"So tell me why I'm in here again?" Raph demands after his cuffs release and he can get the germy fabric out of his mouth. The beast eyes the cloth as it falls to the ground then growls at him again. 

He gets closer to the laser, trying to give the brute some room. "Oh, right. Ya didn't."

Nutjob silently observes. It takes a step towards him and he scowls because if it wants its space so much, then how come it doesn't just stay put?

Raph's body gives up, but his mouth keeps moving. "New roommate? Big guy got a name? 'Cause I'm sure not calling it whatever gibberish you spouted."

"I call her Mac." Karl offers nonchalantly. 

Her. Female, then. Alright. 

The beast steps back at his voice, sniffing the air and chirping. Raph's anxiety is overlapped by something softer, recognizing it as a plea. A quick reassurance that she's being good.

That doesn't make sense. He could never really understand Spi- Slash when he was a turtle. Is it because she's a mutant? Can he understand some kind of secret mutant turtle language? He could always understand his brothers, but... They're his brothers. So, duh.

Don and Mike would have a field day with this. 

Raph wonders why Karl bothers naming a mutant that they just plan to enslave and abuse. Probably the same reason abusive pet owners adopt pets. What's wrong with people?

"Hey, Mac." Raph calls out to the unbelievably tense mutant before she remembers him on her own and decides that he's a threat that needs to be torn to pieces. He can hear the change in his tone, some deep instinct gentleing it without his permission. 

He'll allow it, but only because he needs to calm her down. For survival sake. 

If the annoying silent scientist and his ugly pet would get out, he'd have a better chance here, but a turtle's gotta do what a turtle's gotta do. "Didn't mean to bother you, big... Girl. I'm not here to hurt you. Just... Hanging out for a bit."

Ugh. He sounds so dumb. 

She only blinks at him. No growling or snarling though, so that has to be a plus. 

Ha. And Leo says he's bad at making nice with people.

"Incorrect." Nutjob cuts in. "This isn't a social visit. This is an extermination."

Raph tears his eyes away long enough to send him an affronted look. "A what?"

"Extermination." Nutjob repeats. Then, as if he thinks Raph is too dumb to understand what that entails, he adds. "I want you to kill her." 

Raph turns to Karl, but he doesn't seem remotely surprised by the affirmation.

 He looks back at Mac and then at their captor. He could very easily go on some long rant about ethics and insanity and the obvious issues with murder- but that won't change anything, so he puts an end to the thought with a simple, "No."

Nutjob looks genuinely startled. "No?"

"No." Raph repeats heatedly. He tries to keep his posture loose so that she doesn't feel threatened, despite how much he wants to punch something. Other than the enslaved mutant that doesn't deserve it, that is. "I'm not killing someone."

"Not someone." Nutjob corrects. "A mutant. An expendable one at that."

"Don't know if you've forgotten." Raph mocks snidely. "But I'm a mutant. And a someone!"

"You're confused."

"You're sick in the head if you think I'm going to murder an innocent mutant I just met!"

"I don't see why the timeframe of introduction matters here."

"It doesn't! I wouldn't kill her anyway!"

Nutjob studies him with the patience of a parent watching their pouting toddler refuse to complete an impossibly simple task. "Raphael, she's only a mistake."

"I'm sure your parents said the same about you."

Karl snorts from where he leans on the wall, a not-so-hidden smirk visible. Nutjob's eyes darken, but Raph refuses to back down. Beating up robots and Karl are one thing; he's not gonna murder people because some psychopath says so. 

Because that's what mutants are. What this mutant is. A person. 

"I've seen you in action." Nutjob's calm air turns eerie. "Hurting living beings has never been an issue before. You have every capability."

"Knocking heads is one thing! Killing someone is another!" Raph snarls. A low growl filters in, but he's too heated to stop now. "That's decent-human-being 101! I'm not killing anyone! End of discussion!"

"Told you he wouldn't do it." Karl butts in. "He knows he can't take that thing. Let me do it."

"Taking turns is a skill preschoolers learn, Karl." Nutjob proceeds to dig in his labcoat pocket as the lurking mutant behind him locks his jaw, seething at the burn. "And he'll do it."

"No!" Raph barks irritably. "He won't!"

Nutjob looks around the room as if expecting whatever he's looking for to mystically appear. Then he holds out a hand to Karl, stating, "Right. Give it back."

Karl grumbles under his breath but fishes what he needs out of the jumpsuit. He drops it in his hand and Nutjob taps the remote without a second of hesitation. The mutant shrieks and Raph watches in horror as electricity runs up the revealed band framing her chest, traveling along her scutes, unaware that a creature that big could make such a shrill sound. 

He steps forward on impulse, pulling his hand back upon realizing that touching her wouldn't do anything. Chances are there's a reason that pure muscle hasn't ripped it off yet. 

He whirls to face them. "Quit it!"

Nutjob releases the button, raising an eyebrow. "You could end her pain."

End her-?

DUDE WHAT?!

Raph clenches his fists at his sides, unconsciously placing himself between the abuser and the abused. "Do whatever you want to me, but leave her alone!"

"There's an ambiguity to animals that has always fascinated me." Nutjob doesn't even acknowledge the demand as he taps down on the button.  Mac staggers to the side, throwing herself into the wall with a mix of a hiss and snarl. "You never know how they'll react to negative stimuli. Those who have higher intelligence could hypothetically reason out the threat. Those that serve off pure instinct, well, they tend to... Jump to conclusions."

He releases the button. "Lash out on even those that intend to assist. Not intentionally, of course. They don't know better. Not nearly enough brain power. So they simply... Bite the hand that feeds them, if you will. No remorse. No hesitation."

Raph's so caught up in Nutjob's eerily calm speech that he doesn't recognize the warning or the threat until dilated yellow eyes lock on him. The electricity abruptly stops. 

She staggers back upright, opening her mouth and releasing a low hiss. He scrambles to figure out what she's saying, and suddenly knows it's a warning, maybe a countdown of sorts, something like better start running before I'm done hissing or you're done for.

She's far from a happy camper and she wants him gone now. 

Raph holds out his hands passively, as far back as he can be, ignoring the cold chill running down his back. "Woah, woah, hey, it's not me!"

"Isn't it?" Ferrall muses in monotone. "After all, we're not even here."

Mac lunges. He cries out and ducks to roll out of her path, scrambling away from the echoing snaps of her beak. She digs her talons into the floor before she can slide into the lasers, tail lashing as she stalks back towards him. Something sparks as he sizes her up, taking note of the way she avoids leaning on her left foreleg. 

Fine. He'll fight, only 'cause she'll kill him otherwise.

No one in this cage is dying today. 

"Alright, Mac." He cracks his neck and raises his arms in invitation. "Might as well show me what you got." 

She gets her footing and charges him. He flies to the left and throws himself at the wall, springing off in time to offer a spinning kick to the beak. Adrenaline distracts from the pain and he lets years of skill take the lead, keeping his stance steady. 

She roars and stumbles, shaking off the pain to snap at his sore arm, but he swerves away from the powerful jaw. "Not sure what it is with everyone and this arm, but I still need it!"

She makes a second attempt and he slides underneath her to avoid it. Two can play that game.

He switches into a run and then rams her bad leg, sprinting away when it brings that side of her body to the ground. He comes to an abrupt stop at the wall of lasers that is closer than he'd realized, inches from an intrigued Karl. 

Raph recoils and the rabbit only smirks before pointing behind him. He doesn't manage to turn fast enough to stop Mac from locking her jaw around his plastron and carapace.

He entertains the fleeting notion that she's going to break through his shell in one sound chomp, but then she's shaking him left and right like a dog with a favorite toy. "HeeEEeeEEYYYY!"

His hands slip when he tries to get a good enough hold to even try forcing her mouth open, fighting intense nausea and squeezing his eyes shut since his world has been reduced to an red-and-grey blur. 

She chucks him and he hits the ground rolling. He groans when he stops, forceing himself back to his feet, trying to straighten out the several beasts lurching towards him. They all seem intent on smashing his skull so he rolls to his feet and dives in the opposite direction, blocked from further escape by a corner of the room.

He spins as she does, laying both palms on the wall behind him and giving his body some time to work itself out. Mac has little care for his current fight to keep his guts in his body and charges at him with her head down, probably hoping to crack his carapace against the wall. 

 He decides to meet her halfway, springing from the floor and flipping onto the surface of her shell. He practically flies over as she rears to a stop, grabbing onto one of the protruding spikes before she whirls and chirps confused notes in search of him. 

He braces between more spikes, leaning against her scutes and giving his rattled brain some time to sort itself out. The spike in front of him slowly comes into focus. 

He reaches out and grabs hold of it with his free hand, dizzily muttering. "This is either going to be really smart or really dumb."

He collects every ounce of strength and tears it off. She yelps and he uses her spikes to hop across her back, jabbing it into her already injured leg. She crumbles instantly, and he scrambles up the side of her carapace like a sailor abandoning ship, leaping off the bridge of her shell and landing in a roll. 

He gets to his feet and stands in preparation for a more brutal response, but she's down.

She whines as she tries and fails to rise onto the leg. It's so close to the sound that one of his brothers makes when seriously hurt that it immediately tugs at his heartstrings. Raph lowers the spike in his hand guiltily and grumbles, "Nothing personal, Mac. Was you or me."

He turns to the lasers, throwing the spike to the ground and proclaiming, "There. She's down." 

"That wasn't the requirement." Nutjob states coolly. 

"Don't care." Raph snaps despite the anxiety nestling in his gut. He hardens his resolve. "I don't care! Do whatever you want to me-  I've never been good at taking orders, and I sure as heck won't start now! I'm not going to be your good little homicidal accomplice, so back off!"

"Oh, yeah?" 

Karl.

Raph has enough time to register that he's about to be in pain before his carapace hits the ground and his brain rings. He readies himself for the following blow, but when it doesn't come, he rolls over onto his side, bracing his elbow to scan for his abuser. 

He's not hovering over him or preparing for another blow, but he is stalking up to the injured Mac. Karl presses the remote as Mac writhes and shrieks. 

"No!" He hears himself gasping, forcing his body onto all fours. "Don't touch her!"

"If you're such a goody-goody..." Karl snarls as he spins the spike in one hand. "How come your little tool here is the perfect length to do this!"

He stabs her through the throat before either amphibian sees it coming, spike embedding into the floor underneath and coating it in a thick, scarlet puddle. 

Raph's world clangs to a harsh stop. 

He watches her choke.

Mac's eyes go from pained to blank in seconds. The life seeping out of her faster than he can process it and then she's silent. He stares at the limp body as the color and the shape change, flashing from tall and brown to broad and green. The only thing that remains the same is the scarlet wound and lifeless stare that can never be undone. 

"I don't know..." A shape stalks towards him, echoey words only taking meaning when something solid locks against his throat and he finds a smear of gray blocking his view. He looks up at the smug eyes without an ounce of remorse as Karl muses, "Seems to me like you might have been taking precautions. Do we just need to give you more of a push next time?"

Raph hits the ground. He tries to get up, freezing when he spots the limp turtle and the reality crashes down on him.

He slaughtered her. He actually- she's dead. She's just- He just-

He killed her. Like it meant nothing. 

Something painful twists in his chest and makes it hard to breathe, leaving him unaware that he should have been moving until he's being wrenched off his carapace. The mocking sneer takes him in. "Not even going to deny it?"

Raph wants to feel the familiar anger, but defeat oozes under his scales instead, numbing the flame that burned a few minutes prior. Karl snarls and swings his fist, catching his chest and sending a burning pulse across it. He gasps in pain before he lands.

Raph skids against the cold concrete, dimly aware of a sudden heat near his legs. 

He looks at the lines of faint red decorating the floor in front of him before he's in the air again and the heat is against his skull. 

"What's wrong with you?" Karl demands as he scans him with a scowl. "Where's all that smack talk? I killed your new friend. Go on. Tell me what you're going to do to me."

Raph shudders, breath rattling in his ribs.

"You can't be tamed, right? You're a mutant. So fight-"

"Karl."

The rabbit clamps his mouth shut and looks to their left. Whatever he sees has him scowling and then letting Raph drop to the floor with a heavy thud. The hothead struggles upright even as his arms tremble and his chest burns, constricted pupils shooting to the scientist walking up in even stride.

His cuffs lock and his heart sinks. 

This is the first activity of the day, which means that they're moving on. The flood of something weighing down on him almost cracks, fists clenching and eyes watering as he looks to the floor in the hopes of keeping himself together. No, no, no- I can't-  c-can't...

"You want this to stop?"

Ferrall stops at his side, keeping some distance between them. Raph jerks his head up in shock and then realizes that the curious tone is less of a facade and more of a genuine question. 

Despite how absolutely stupid and demeaning it is, he weakly forces himself to nod.

Ferrall steps closer and he can't help the instinct to cower. There's no point in trying to escape, and they both know it. "You haven't given up before. Why now?"

A million and one thoughts rush through his head. All that comes out is a shaky-

"She's dead."

He frowns and studies him. Karl growls and crosses his arms impatiently. 

Ferrall tilts his head. "Apologize."

"...What?" Raph wheezes out, trying to figure out what he's playing at.

"You disobeyed," Ferrall states simply. "I want an apology."

"I-I-" Raph clamps his mouth shut, unable to bring himself to say it. Neither of them deserves an apology because this isn't right- none of it- and he isn't going to stoop that low- he's not that pathetic- but the idea that he might listen- that he'd make this stop-

A dark shadow leers over him, eager to punish for disobedience. "You heard him. Say. It."

His pride cracks like whatever it is that burns in his chest. "Sorry."

A light tone. "For what? Be specific now."

"S-sorry for-" His breath escapes faster than he expects. It feels like something is sitting directly on his lungs, sucking the air out before he can use it. As if the simmering self-loathing doesn't already make the sentence impossible to spit out. 

Karl cracks his knuckles. Raph tries again, desperately summoning all the will he has in him. "Sorry- ffor dis'beying."

Ferrall waves dismissively and Karl steps away. The scientist steps forward, settling on one knee and examining Raph for a long moment. He raises a hand, and Raph feels a full-body flinch shake his frame, shutting his eyes and cringing in preparation.

"Good," The hand comes down to pat his carapace like one might console a disobedient dog after a punishment. "You know, I asked you to do it of your own volition. I do hope you understand that you earn these punishments. This pain is unnecessary. Death is something nature intends, as is the strong dictating the weak."

Raph knows he wants some sort of affirmation, but he doesn't move, resisting the urge to get rid of the unsolicited touch resting on his scutes. If he opens his eyes, he'll see the limp body in his peripheral, but he refuses, stomach twisting as a now-familiar nausea climbs to his throat.

A pause. Impossibly dense silence.

"Humans don't make friends with our natural enemies, Raphael. Their predispositions won't allow it." The hand on his carapace strokes along the scutes. "Even humans can't resist our natures to be higher than the rest. It's a mere matter of staying at the top of the food chain. Surely you understand that?"

Raph doesn't dare respond as he waits for some kind of brutal turnabout- for him to laugh and tell Karl to finish him off- maybe even to decide to finish inflicting the pain himself. The touch recedes, but pain does not come. Instead, there's a haughty command that brings a surge of shock and relief so strong that his body unwillingly slumps to the ground.

"Take him back to his room."

The disappointment in Karl's voice is palpable. "But-"

"I gave you an order. Are you questioning me?"

It's barely more than a snarl. "Never."