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Raph had been injected with an unknown drug and was already feeling the effects as he lowered himself down from an open window on the backside of a derelict warehouse. He misgauged the distance of his drop and stumbled as he landed on the hard pavement. His ankle rolled under him and he cursed softly. He took off down the alley, ignoring the pain in his foot. Looking back over his shoulder, he could see blurry gray shapes tumbling out of the window and scurrying behind him. The usual sounds of the city: honking horns; sirens; bass thumping through subwoofers, were all muted in his ears, as though someone had lowered the volume.
He reached the end of the alley and looked into the street. He could discern no headlights shining in the encroaching darkness, so he sprinted to the center of the road, his gaze concentrated on the asphalt below. But he couldn't make out a manhole cover to disappear under. He glanced back over his shoulder. A roiling smear of gray surged in his direction.
Raph turned to face the encroaching mousers. He went to draw his sais, forgetting that they'd been taken. His hands patted an empty belt and he stepped backwards. His heel hit something solid. He spun around, crouched low, and pried the manhole cover open. He couldn't hear a sound as he wrested the heavy metal disk free and propped it up with one hand. A dark, featureless pit opened below him. Raph reached out with his other hand and felt along the opening of the manhole until he found a ladder. He jumped into the abyss, free-falling for a moment before his hands caught a rung. Something heavy thudded against his shell and glanced off, dropping into the blackness below. He didn't hear it hit the ground.
Raph looked up and could only see blackness, which he hoped meant that he had successfully dropped the manhole cover closed behind him as he'd jumped. He grumbled to himself as he probed the air with his uninjured foot until he found a rung to perch on. He exhaled and tilted his head forward, his brow resting against the rusty ladder. His breath settled in his chest and he listened for any sound at all. There was nothing.
Raph sighed and descended the ladder. When he reached the bottom, he stepped away with a hand out, lurching for a moment until he felt the solid bricks of the sewer wall. He turned left and began to follow the wall away from the ladder, moving slowly as he felt his way forward in the dark. His ankle flared with every other step.
The sewer tunnel was both familiar and foreign, all at once. The air hung close, damp and cool around him. It tasted musty when he breathed it in. Raph could not see or hear anything. He felt adrift, like an submarine wandering the deep sea. His body was tense, ready and waiting for attacks from any unknown assailants who might be watching him from the silent blackness.
Suddenly, Raph's hand dropped off the wall into empty space. He jerked to a stop and groped for the wall. He felt back along the crumbling bricks and realized that he had reached a corner. It turned away from him towards his right. Raph paused for just a second, then huffed and turned right around the corner, following the sewer in a southward direction. At least, he was fairly certain that he was heading southward.
Raph walked this way for hours; one hand on the wall as he felt his way from one instant to the next. The flares in his ankle resolved into a steady ache. His toes were sore from stubbing protruding debris.
At one point, his shin caught an unexpected pipe and he tumbled forward, his hands flung out to catch the fall.
"Fuck!"
Raph crashed down on his palms. Something sharp pierced the heel of his left hand, sending spikes of hot pain through his palm.
"Shit. Goddammit." He muttered, voiceless, to himself as he yanked his hand backwards and pulled up on his knees.
He felt out the injury. His whole hand was wet with blood and he could feel jagged pieces of glass protruding from his palm.
"ARGH!" He yanked a shard free. He couldn't hear his own shout of agony.
He squeezed his eyes shut and set to work removing the remaining shards. Each piece felt like it was tearing his flesh open again as it slid out. He picked at his hand for a while, but little fragments remained embedded in his skin, too small and slick for him to grip. He could feel them when he brushed his fingers over the wound. He grit his teeth, squeezed the injured hand into a fist, and pushed it against his plastron, trying to stem the flow of blood. The shards that he'd been unable to pull out seemed to dig deeper into his flesh as he moved. Blood ran down his forearm and dripped off his elbow.
With a heaving breath, Raph pulled himself up along the wall. He carefully stepped over the pipe and skirted the broken glass, continuing on into the unknown.
Time had no meaning in the empty silence. Raph had no idea how long he'd been walking. He thought we was heading towards the Lair, but he couldn't be sure how far he'd come... or if he was even going the right direction.
Whenever he reached a junction, he considered his options, trying to sort through his mental map of the New York City sewer lines. But, other than an occasional rumble that indicated a nearby subway train, he could discern no sign of his specific location. Sometimes, after he turned to follow a new path, Raph would end up at a dead end, blocked by debris or an impassable grate. Or the passageway would descend downward, sloping towards an invisible water line, until it was submerged completely. In these instances, he'd have to backtrack, sometimes for a long time, until he could choose a different path.
Raph kept walking. His adrenaline had faded and his body felt heavy, like he was pulling it along through the blackness. Images of a warm bed and greasy pizza loomed large in his mind. And, as he continued on, alone in the quiet gloom, he began to think more of his brothers. He longed to see them and hear their chattering voices. He wanted to reach out and feel someone reaching back.
Raph was working his way back from another dead end when something grazed his upper arm.
"Shit!"
He jerked backwards and froze, waiting for the thing to lurch at him out of the empty dark. But, when he felt nothing else, he exhaled.
"Goddammit, Raph." He shook his head and stepped forward.
Something grabbed his left arm. Raph yanked his arm out of its grasp and backed up against the wall.
"Stay the fuck away!" he shouted, pulling both hands in front of his chest to square up.
The thing touched him again, this time wrapping a hand around his bloody wrist.
"Yarrrgh!" He hurdled his other fist forward and a hand caught it. He attempted to wrench it free, but the grip was solid and the other hand moved with him.
"I'll fucking kill you!" he bellowed, his chest tightening.
He pulled on both arms at once and kicked forward with his good foot, striking the enemy in their leg. They broke contact and Raph could not discern where they were. He glared into the darkness, breathing heavily.
A hand came for him again, barely skimming the skin on his injured wrist.
Now, Raph was annoyed. "Leave it alone!" he growled.
But the other hand didn't move, it slowly grabbed Raph's wrist and gently pulled. Raph pulled back and the pressure of the grip increased slightly, three fingers gently squeezing his lower arm.
Raph swallowed. He allowed his hand to be pulled away. Another three-fingered hand slowly peeled the bloody fist open. Its fingers brushed lightly against his, but did not touch the wounded palm.
"Who are you?" Raph asked. He didn't know if his voice was actually making any noise.
The fingers dropped away from his injured hand and then gripped his other wrist. He flinched at first, surprised by the touch, but then allowed his hand to be guided, until it landed on a breathing chest, protected by a broad plastron.
Raph squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a breath. When he released it, words tumbled out of him. They made no sound in his ears. "Stockman got me. He shot me up with something. I can't hear. I can't see! I don't know what--"
The hand around his wrist gave a gentle squeeze: It'll be okay.
Raph relaxed, leaning into the sewer wall. "Okay, right. Who are you?" he asked again.
The hands moved away for a moment, but Raph didn't move. He kept one palm planted on his brother's chest. When a hand came back, it gently pulled Raph's hand away from the plastron and guided him to feel something. The thing was narrow, smooth, and cool to the touch. Raph ran his fingers along it reverently.
"Leo," he breathed.
A hand squeezed his shoulder: Yes. I'm here. I've got you.
Raph teetered forward. The sword was pulled away and then arms wrapped around him, cradling him with a hug. Raph sank into it, pulling Leo closer with his good hand.
Raph tried to release something. "I didn't know where I was. I was trying to find you guys, but I couldn't figure it out."
Leo gently stroked the back of his brother's head. He was speaking. Raph couldn't hear it, but he could feel the low vibrations of Leo's chest. Raph nestled his head in the crook of Leo's neck and sobbed. Wet tears slid down his cheeks.
"I can't hear you, man."
A squeeze on his upper arm: I know. It's okay. I'm sorry.
A thought occurred to Raph and he pulled his head back, sniffling.
"Is it just you? Are Mikey and Donnie here?"
He felt Leo wiggle a hand between the two of them, presumably reaching for something in his belt. Raph was gently pushed back and something was placed in his hand to feel: a cell phone.
"They're not here. You gotta call them?"
Squeeze: yes.
"Okay, yeah." He nodded.
Leo pulled out of the hug without letting go completely. He maintained contact as he moved to Raph's side and scooped his shoulder under his brother's armpit. Raph felt himself being gently maneuvered. He was lowered him to the ground until he was sitting with his shell against the wall. Leo's body settled down next to his.
Leo took the cell phone from Raph with one hand. His other hand entwined with Raph's, a thumb softly stroking the back of his hand. Raph tilted his head to the side and leaned on Leo's shoulder. He could feel Leo's jaw working and his chest bumping up and down as he talked to Donnie or Mikey on the phone.
Raph exhaled and he slumped over almost completely, all of his weight against his brother and the wall. He still felt lost, like he was drifting in the deep ocean. But he had a tether now and he clung to it with all of his strength.