"can't erase, so i'll take blame
but i can't accept that we're estranged
without you."
------------

"Wakey wakey, bros! Ice Cream Kitty and I made breakfast!"

Michelangelo's cheerful voice echoes through the lair like a rooster's crow early the next day. The sound reaches Leonardo's room, waking him from his slumber. His mouth gapes in a yawn as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. Rest hadn't come easy to him last night. Every time he closed his eyes, visions of Raphael had invaded his mind. He saw the rage in his eyes and the glint of his sai just inches above his head, and the guilt already sitting in his gut grew impossibly heavier, until the weight threatened to drop him straight through his bed. He knows his brother's anger is something only he can learn to control. Even so, he can't help but feel bad about the words that were said and the actions that were taken the day prior.

He sighs, doing his best to clear his head as he ties his mask walks out into the lair's main room. Donatello emerges from his lab at the same moment. The younger turtle immediately takes note of the state of his oldest brother. Leonardo is typically refreshed in the morning—maybe a bit weary, but still awake enough to walk with confidence and a slight grin on his face. Today, however, everything about him is off. His expression is grim, his steps sluggish and his posture slumped as he trudges toward the kitchen. He's looking noticeably blue, and the genius turtle can tell it's more than just his mask.

"Hey." He says gently, moving to his side. "Are you okay? You don't seem like your usual self."

"Me? I'm fine," comes the mumbled response. "Just tired."

Donatello raises an eye ridge. "Come on, Leo, you can't fool me. I know there's something deeper that's bothering you. What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, Donnie. Really."

The purple-masked mutant still eyes him dubiously, but deduces quickly that he won't get anything out of his brother anytime soon. "Well, come on then, let's get some breakfast. I think that's just what we need to refresh ourselves, yeah?"

Leonardo nods gratefully, and the two turtles make their way side-by-side to the kitchen. The room is warm with heat from the stove, the mouth-watering aroma of fresh food wafting through the air. Michelangelo dances around as he puts the finishing touches on the morning meal, humming a happy little tune with a smile on his face. Master Splinter is already seated and sipping a warm cup of tea. His russet eyes lock on the rest of his children as they enter.

"Good morning, my sons. I hope you slept well."

"We did, Sensei," Leonardo lies through his teeth as he and Donatello bow to their father, then take their seats.

"There you guys are!" chirps Michelangelo. As always, he's bubbling with energy, the closest thing the Hamato Clan has to sunshine so far below ground. "Just in time. Leo, I got you some orange juice like usual. And Donnie, I made your favorite—latin roast espresso, double shot!"

"Thanks, Mikester," Donatello flashes a gap-toothed smile. He gives his younger brother a quick pat on the head before taking the cup of coffee, sipping eagerly.

Leonardo gives a small grin, but it fades quickly. It's interactions like these that make moments like yesterday so devastating. His brothers are all fully capable of getting along, of loving and respecting each other—so how can they go from that to feeling such anger toward each other in a matter of hours? Siblings are bound to disagree, of course, but it bothers him sometimes, especially recently.

If only we could get along like this all the time...

"Hey, earth to Leo!" Michelangelo's voice snaps him from his thoughts.

"Huh?"

"I asked if you want eggs or bacon, dude."

"Oh. Um, eggs, thanks."

"Sweet, more bacon for me!"

"I've said it before, Leo, but you seem out of it today," Donatello remarks. 

"I would have to agree," Splinter chimes in. His russet gaze is sharp and clear, pinning Leonardo beneath it. "I sense your mind is elsewhere, my son. What is it that troubles you?"

The blue-masked turtle hesitates. Does he want to burden his family with his deepest worries and thoughts? He's inclined to say no, but the concerned looks on everyone else's faces is enough to make him fold like a deck of cards.

"It's just...I can't stop thinking about what happened with Raph yesterday," he admits. "I mean, I know no one can control how he feels except him. Especially now that his attitude is worse since Spike got mutated. But...I feel like we just made things worse."

"I think we all messed up back there, bro." Michelangelo's expression softens. "Raph definitely needed to take a chill pill. But...we were kinda mean to him."

"I have to agree," mutters Donatello. He stares down at his coffee mug, looking dejected. "I guess we shouldn't have pushed his buttons the way we did. Especially since he was already pretty ticked off."

"You are all correct," Splinter says. "It is true that Raphael's rage is his own responsibility to handle. However, the three of you saw a fire burning and willfully added gasoline." He sighs, closing his eyes briefly. "I fear I too may have been too harsh with him."

"Don't worry, fam, I'm sure it'll all be okay!" Michelangelo insists with a smile. "We'll just tell Raph we're sorry. He'll probably be like, grrr I don't care I'm angry, but he'll forgive us when he's ready. He always does."

He gazes around the kitchen curiously. "Where is Raph, anyways? He's always the hungriest in the morning."

"Probably still sulking in his room," mutters Donatello. "I can't say I blame him."

"Meow!" At the mention of Raphael's name, a muffled mewl sounds from behind the freezer door. Michelangelo rushes over and flings it open.

"What's wrong, girl?" he asks. The confectionery cat meows frantically into his ear. "Huh? What's that about Raph?"

"What's she saying?" Leonardo leans forward.

Michelangelo looks up, eye ridges creased with worry. "She said we should go to Raph's room. Like, pronto."

No one has to tell them twice. The brothers spring from their seats, dashing from the kitchen and making a beeline for their brother's room. Leonardo gets there first, giving the door three sharp knocks. 

"Raph?"

No reply.

"That's weird," remarks Donatello. "Normally he'd scream at us to go away."

"Maybe he's still asleep," suggests Michelangelo. "Or he ate too much pizza last night and blacked out. Or he got so mad he knocked himself out–"

"I don't think that's it, Mikey," Leonardo cuts in with an odd look at his brother. "Raph, if you won't come out, we're coming in."

He pushes the door open and the three turtles pile inside. The blue-clad turtle flips the light switch, bathing the room in harsh light. The first thing the brothers notice is that the place is in total disarray. Raphael's drum set lies in pieces on the floor, as do countless comic books, magazines, and all sorts of other junk. There's a hole or two in the wall as well, which certainly wasn't there the last time they'd been in the room. 

"Sheesh, did a tornado hit in here or something?" Donatello breathes. "This place is a pigsty!"

"How could he treat his comics like this?" Michelangelo shrieks, sinking to his knees. "How could anyone be so cruel? HOW?"

"Um, has anyone else noticed that Raph isn't here?" Leonardo cuts in sharply.

"Wait," whispers Michelangelo. He rises to his feet, eyes wide. "Do you guys think he actually quit?"

"Well, he has done that twenty-five times before," Donatello points out. "He just needs some time to cool off. I'm sure he'll be back soon."

"So what do we tell Sensei?"

"What Donnie said," Leonardo decides. "That he'll be back soon."

Michelangelo frowns. "I hope you're right."

--------

Hours pass, and the Hamato Clan does their best to get through the day. They train like normal, unwinding with video games and television afterward. All the while, their gazes constantly flick toward the turnstiles, hoping to see their missing brother hopping over them at any moment. It never happens.

Raphael never comes home.

"Alright, it's been all day, and Raph's still not back," Leonardo says that evening as he and the others sit around the TV. "I'm starting to worry."

"You're just now starting to worry?" says Michelangelo. "I started worrying, like, hours ago."

"I thought he would've come back by now," mutters Donatello. "You think he ran into trouble? The Kraang or the Foot, maybe?"

"It's possible. But wherever he is now, I get the feeling he doesn't want to come back to us," Leonardo bites his lip. "He seemed pretty ticked yesterday. Like, way more than usual. I...I think he actually..."

An eerie silence falls upon the room. The three brothers eye each other, their unspoken fear confirmed. Perhaps their brother has finally been pushed past the breaking point. Perhaps he really has no intention of coming back.

"My sons?" The turtles look up as Splinter enters the room, green walking stick in hand. "Has there been any word on your brother?"

"No, father." Leonardo struggles to make eye contact with him. "We don't think he's coming back."

The rat's eyes grow dark at his words. He sighs, bringing a palm to his temple.

"As I feared." His voice comes out low, hardly more than a whisper. "It appears Raphael's mind has taken him to a dark place...one I worry he will be unable to return from."

"This is our fault, isn't it?" Michelangelo's voice breaks. The others turn to see that his sky-blue eyes are swimming with tears, his lip quivering as he struggles not to break down. "I bet he got sick of us and ran away!"

"Hey, don't talk like that. It's gonna be okay." Donatello gives younger brother's shoulder a soft squeeze. His voice is gentle but oddly shaky, as if he's trying to reassure himself as well.

"B-but what are we gonna do? What if Raph gets hurt out there? What if we never see him again?"

"The Hamato Clan will endure." Splinter's expression is grave as he addresses his remaining family. "Your enemies will not rest, and neither should you. You three must continue with your patrols and missions as usual. I know it will be...difficult to do without Raphael, but you must remain focused. Understood?"

The three turtles bow their heads. Michelangelo wiping his eyes. "Hai, Sensei."