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The humid summer night had settled over New York City, a thick, almost suffocating blanket. In the quiet depths of the sewer lair, Raphael lay on his cot, wrapped in Harper's crocheted blanket. He was still in the early stages of recovery, his body mending slowly, but the gnawing frustration of his confinement and the lingering phantom ache of his cracked shell often disrupted his sleep. Tonight, however, it was something far more stealthy that pulled him into a restless, terrifying slumber.
The dream began subtly, a faint whisper of panic. He was on patrol, but the city felt wrong – too quiet, too dark. He moved with a speed he hadn't felt since before his injury, a powerful, unburdened grace. His new bandana, snug and comforting, was tied firmly around his head. Yet, a cold dread began to coil in his gut.
Then, the scene shifted. He was no longer on a rooftop, but in a familiar alleyway, one that led to a forgotten access point to the sewers. And there she was. Harper . She was walking towards the hidden grate, a small bag slung over her shoulder, perhaps returning from an errand. She looked relaxed, humming softly, completely unaware.
Suddenly, shadows detached themselves from the deeper recesses of the alley. Not just any shadows. These were lean, silent figures, their eyes glinting with hostile intent – Foot Clan ninjas. Dozens of them. They moved with terrifying speed, surrounding Harper before she could even react.
Raphael felt a surge of pure, unadulterated terror. He tried to move, to shout, to reach her, but his limbs were heavy, encased in an invisible concrete. His voice was gone. He was a statue, forced to watch the nightmare unfold before him.
"Move it, human," one of the ninjas snarled, his hand already grabbing Harper's arm, twisting it behind her back. Another produced a length of rope.
Harper gasped, struggling fiercely. "Get off me!" she cried, her voice sharp with defiance, trying to kick out, but she was overwhelmed, her movements hampered by their sheer numbers. She was a fighter, he knew, but against so many, unarmed, she was utterly vulnerable.
The ninjas laughed, a chilling, guttural sound that echoed in the confined space of the dream alley. One of them, a larger, more imposing figure, stepped forward, his face obscured by shadow. "The boss will be very interested in this one. A civilian, but one with... interesting connections."
Raphael's blood ran cold. Connections. They knew. They knew about her, about them . His shell, even in the dream, felt a phantom throb, a searing pain, binding him, rendering him useless. He lunged forward again, a silent scream tearing through his throat, but the concrete held him fast.
They dragged her, struggling and fighting, towards a black van that seemed to materialize from the shadows. Her eyes, wide with fear and desperate defiance, darted around, searching. They met his, briefly, through the dream haze, a silent plea for help, for rescue.
"RAPH!" Her scream, raw and desperate, tore through the dreamscape, a sound that ripped him from the depths of his nightmare.
Raphael shot upright on his cot, a guttural roar tearing from his throat. His entire body was drenched in a cold sweat, his plastron heaving, his heart hammering against his bruised ribs with a terrifying intensity. His new bandana was askew, almost choked by the violent force of his awakening.
"HARPER!" he bellowed, his voice raw, his eyes wide and wild, still seeing the terrified desperation in her eyes, the shadowy figures dragging her away.
The sudden, explosive noise ripped through the usual pre-dawn quiet of the lair. Doors burst open.
"Raph! What the hell was that?!" Michelangelo's voice, sharp with alarm, was the first to cut through the lingering terror. He stood framed in his doorway, rubbing sleep from his eyes, his usually bright face contorted with confusion and fear.
Leonardo was already moving, his ninja instincts honed by years of patrols. He was in Raph's room in three long strides, his katana half-drawn, scanning the shadows, searching for the unseen threat. "Raph! What's wrong?!"
Donatello was right behind him, goggles already perched on his head, his face a mask of concern. "Raph, are you alright? Your heart rate just spiked to dangerous levels! Is it your shell? Are you in pain?" He was already reaching for a small medical scanner.
Raphael barely registered their presence. He was still trapped in the agonizing grip of the nightmare, the vision of Harper's terrified face burned behind his eyelids. He struggled to breathe, his lungs protesting, a sharp pain radiating from his still-healing shell. He pushed off the cot, a desperate, raw need to move, to act , overriding the protests of his injured body.
"They had her! The Foot! They took her!" he choked out, his voice hoarse, his hands clenching into fists, trembling with residual terror. He stumbled, his legs weak, his balance compromised by the still-healing impact. He swayed dangerously, nearly collapsing.
Leo moved swiftly, catching him by the arm, steadying his brother's trembling form. "Raph! Calm down! What are you talking about?! The Foot took who?!" His voice was firm, trying to cut through the panic.
"Harper!" Raphael gasped, his eyes wild, darting around the room as if expecting to see ninjas lurking in the corners. "The Foot! They dragged her away! I couldn't... I couldn't move! I couldn't help her!" A raw, guttural growl of self-loathing tore from his chest. The helplessness of the dream was almost as agonizing as the physical pain of his injuries.
Donnie quickly placed the scanner against Raph's plastron. "His vitals are through the roof! Raph, it was a nightmare! You're safe! Harper is safe! She's in her apartment, across the city!" Donnie's voice was sharp, trying to inject logic into Raph's panicked state.
But Raphael wasn't listening. The vividness of the dream, the feeling of his own paralysis, the desperate terror in Harper's eyes – it was too real. His physical pain, his own recent vulnerability, had made the nightmare even more potent, more terrifying. He had to know. He had to see her. He had to confirm she was safe.
"I have to go!" Raph gasped, trying to pull away from Leo’s steadying grip. "I have to find her. I have to make sure!" He took another shaky, determined step towards the door, ignoring the sharp protest from his ribs and the dull throb from his still-healing shell. His eyes were wide and frantic, reflecting the lingering terror of the nightmare.
Leo held firm, his grip surprisingly gentle but unyielding. "Raph, stop! You're injured! You can barely stand!" His voice was stern, but laced with profound worry. He knew how powerful Raph's belief’s could be, even when fueled by fear.
"I don't care!" Raphael snarled, his voice raw, struggling against Leo's hold. The effort sent a fresh wave of pain through him, making him wince, but the mental anguish was far worse. "You didn't see her, Leo! They had her! The Foot! She was screaming!" He lunged forward again, a desperate, almost animalistic surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins, forcing his injured body to obey.
Donatello stepped in, placing a reassuring, but firm, hand on Raph's other arm. "Raph, listen to me. Your vitals are going haywire. You're still recovering from a cracked carapace and severely bruised ribs, amongst several lacerations. A trip across the city like this could re-injure you, set back your healing for weeks! Even cause permanent damage!" Donnie's voice was calm, logical, trying to appeal to Raph's pragmatism.
"Logic isn't gonna help if they've got her!" Raphael retorted, desperation clawing at his throat. He hated feeling trapped, hated feeling weak. The helplessness from the dream was suffocating him. "I can't just lie here ! What if it wasn't a dream? What if it's real?!"
"It was a dream, Raph! A really bad one, but a dream!" Mikey cried, his voice trembling, his face pale with concern. He hated seeing Raph like this, so unhinged, so clearly in distress. "Harper's safe, dude! She's probably asleep in her bed right now!"
"How do you know ?!" Raph roared, turning his frantic gaze on Mikey. "You don't know! I saw her! I felt it! I can't just wait !" He struggled again, a guttural groan escaping him as his ribs screamed in protest. He leaned heavily on Leo and Donnie, his body shaking with the effort, unable to break free.
Leo's eyes met Donnie's over Raph's head. A silent conversation passed between them. They both knew that no amount of logic, no amount of reassurance, would penetrate the raw panic that had gripped Raph. He needed proof. Physical, undeniable proof that Harper was safe. And he was in no condition to go get it himself.
Leo's face hardened with resolve. He squeezed Raph's arm, his voice dropping to a low, decisive tone. "Alright, Raph. Calm down. I hear you. I understand." He looked into his brother's tormented eyes. "You're right. You can't go. But I can."
Raphael's struggles immediately ceased. His head snapped towards Leo, a flicker of something akin to hope, mixed with lingering disbelief, in his eyes. "You... you would?"
"Of course, I would," Leo affirmed, his gaze firm. "She's our friend, Raph. Your… friend . I'll go. I'll be fast. I'll make sure she's safe, and I'll report back immediately. You stay here. Donnie will keep an eye on you. You need to rest, Raph, if you want to be able to protect anyone in the future." He subtly stressed the last part, appealing to Raph's core nature.
Raphael's shoulders slumped, the adrenaline that had fueled him now draining away, leaving him physically and emotionally spent. The relief was immense, washing over him in a dizzying wave, but it was quickly replaced by a fresh surge of anxiety. He wanted to go. He needed to go. But Leo was right. He couldn't. His body was protesting, hurting, too much. And if Leo went, it would be faster, safer.
"But... be careful, Leo," Raph rasped, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes pleading. "If... if the Foot are out there..."
"I'll be careful, Raph. And I'll be stealthy. No one will even know I was there," Leo promised, his voice reassuring. He gave Raph's arm a final squeeze, then turned to Donnie. "Keep him stable, Donnie. No heroics, Raph."
Donatello nodded, already moving to adjust Raph's IV. "Understood, Leo. Go. We've got him."
Leo gave Mikey a quick, reassuring glance, then, with a blur of motion, he was gone, disappearing through the entrance to the lair, heading up towards the surface world and Harper's apartment across the city.
The moment Leo vanished, the quiet of the lair became thick with a new kind of tension. Raphael slumped back onto his cot, his head falling back against the pillow. The sheer physical effort of his earlier struggle had left him utterly drained. His breathing was still ragged, his body trembling, but the frantic urgency had subsided, replaced by an agonizing, internal wait.
Donnie immediately began checking Raph's vitals again, his face still grave. "Your heart rate is still dangerously high, Raph. We need to get you calm. This kind of stress is terrible for your healing." He gently injected a mild sedative into Raph's IV.
Raphael barely registered the prick. His eyes were wide open, staring at the ceiling, replaying the nightmare in vivid detail. Every minute stretched into an eternity. Was Leo there yet? Had he reached her? Was she truly safe? Or had the dream been a hunch, a horrifying glimpse into a reality he couldn't prevent?
Mikey sat on the floor beside Raph's cot, his usual boisterous energy completely absent. He just sat, his chin resting on his knees, his eyes fixed on the empty doorway where Leo had disappeared. He knew how much Raph cared about Harper, how much this nightmare must be tearing him apart.
The silence was punctuated only by Donnie's soft murmurs, the beeping of medical equipment, and Raph's own labored breathing. He closed his eyes, trying to force the images away, trying to trust in Leo, trying to believe that Harper was safe. But the fear, cold and sharp, continued to claw at him, a constant, agonizing companion in the long, dark wait. He had sent Leo into the very danger he feared, all because of a dream. And now, all he could do was wait, helpless once more.
⯎o○⮘ ⛭ ⮚○o⯎
The pre-dawn chill of the New York summer night bit at Leonardo's scales as he moved with unparalleled stealth across the rooftops. The city was a maze of sleeping giants and flickering streetlights, utterly oblivious to the frantic fear that gripped his brother, in the depths of the sewers below. Raph's raw, animalistic terror in the grip of his nightmare had been palpable, so real that Leo hadn't hesitated. His brother needed proof, tangible evidence that Harper was safe, and Leo was the only one who could provide it.
Leo moved like a ghost, a blur of blue in the urban landscape. He was at Harper's apartment building in minutes, scaling the fire escape with practiced ease. The window to her apartment, usually slightly ajar for ventilation, was closed against the AC. He peered through the blinds, his keen eyes scanning the familiar, cozy living space.
The apartment was still. A book lay open on the coffee table. A half-empty glass of water sat beside it. And there, curled on her sofa, wrapped in a blanket, was Harper. She was fast asleep, her breathing even and soft, a faint, peaceful smile on her lips. She looked utterly safe, utterly undisturbed. No Foot Clan, no black vans, no screams.
A profound wave of relief washed over Leo. He took a long, steadying breath, his own shoulders slumping slightly from the tense urgency of his dash. He lingered for a moment, just watching her, letting the peaceful image settle into his mind, cementing the truth of her safety. Raph needed this. He needed this absolute certainty.
He knew better than to try and rouse her. Her peaceful sleep was a precious thing, especially after the recent ordeal involving his brother. She had spent so many hours in the past two weeks by his side, ensuring he had anything he desired. Which oftentimes, was her mere presence. He would simply confirm her safety to Raph, and that would be enough. He slipped away from the window as silently as he'd arrived, descending back into the quiet labyrinth of the sewers.
Leo's return to the lair was greeted with an immediate, palpable shift in the atmosphere. Donnie looked up from adjusting Raph's IV, his face etched with concern. Mikey stopped his restless pacing, his eyes wide with desperate hope. And Raph, his eyes still wide and haunted, managed to push himself up slightly on his cot, his gaze fixed on the entrance.
"Leo!" Donnie breathed, relief flooding his voice.
"Is she...?" Raph rasped, his voice raw with anxiety, the single word a question burdened with all his fear.
Leo moved quickly to Raph's side, his gaze locking with his brother's tormented eyes. "She's fine, Raph. Perfectly safe." He spoke with absolute certainty, his voice firm and reassuring. "I saw her. She's asleep on her couch, soundly. No Foot, no trouble. Just sleeping."
Raphael's entire body sagged against the pillows, the tension that had held him rigid for what felt like an eternity finally beginning to drain away. A shaky breath escaped him, then another. He closed his eyes, a silent, profound wave of relief washing over him, so intense it almost made him dizzy. The nightmare receded, replaced by the vivid, peaceful image Leo's words had conjured.
"You're sure?" Mikey asked, his voice small, needing the confirmation himself.
"Positive, Mikey," Leo confirmed, "She's perfectly safe." He then turned his attention back to Raph, reaching out to gently touch his shoulder. "It was just a nightmare, Raph. A really bad one. But she's okay."
Raphael managed a weak nod, unable to articulate the depth of his gratitude. He opened his eyes again, looking at Leo, then Donnie, then Mikey. He saw the worry, but also the understanding, in their faces.
Hours later, the sun was well up, casting long shadows into the lair. Raph had finally drifted into a deeper, more peaceful sleep, aided by a mild sedative from Donnie and the profound relief of knowing Harper was safe. Mikey had retreated to his room to finally get some sleep, and Donnie was back in his lab, analyzing the fragments of the Foot tech.
Leo found Harper sitting quietly by Raph's cot, having come to the lair only forty minutes ago, a fresh, cool cloth in her hand, gently wiping his brow. She looked exhausted, but her eyes held a steady, unwavering vigilance. Leo approached, his footsteps soft.
"He's finally resting properly," Harper murmured, not looking up, sensing his presence. "He told me what happened…He was so terrified."
Leo nodded, sitting on the stool Donnie had used earlier. "He was. That was one of the worst nightmares I've seen him have. It really shook him," He paused, then looked at Harper directly, his voice lowering, becoming more thoughtful. "You know, Harper, Raph doesn't let just anyone see him like this. He certainly doesn't let anyone but us see him when he's... so vulnerable."
Harper finally looked at him, her gaze meeting his, a quiet understanding passing between them. "I know," she said softly. "It’s...hard to see him like this. He's always the strong one. The protector."
"He is," Leo agreed. "But even the strongest of us can break. And when he does, it's usually because he feels like he's failed to protect someone he cares about." He paused again, then pressed on, his voice gentle but firm. "He cares about you a great deal, Harper. More than he usually lets on. This nightmare, coming on top of his injuries... it's pushed things to a new level for him. He's in a fragile state, physically and emotionally."
Harper listened, her heart aching with the truth of his words. She looked down at Raph, sleeping fitfully, the faint lines of pain still etched on his face, the new bandana a dark red testament to her care.
"I know," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I... I felt it when he was hurting after my last game. And now, seeing him like this... it's different. It's deeper." She looked back at Leo, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I want to be here for him, Leo. I need to be. I don't have medical skills, I can't heal his shell, but I can... I can be here . I can remind him he's not alone."
Leo offered her a small, rare, genuine smile. It was a smile of profound understanding and approval. "That's exactly what he needs, Harper. More than any medicine Donnie can give him. More than any training I can offer. He needs to know he has people who will be there for him, who will see him, even when he feels weak. Especially now. He needs to know that his nightmares won't become reality, and that when he's down, he won't be alone."
He shifted on the stool, his gaze sweeping over Raph, then resting back on Harper. "You showed him that when you stayed. You showed him that with the bandana. And you showed him that today, just by being here. He might not always say it, but he feels it. And he knows it." Leo paused, then his gaze became more piercing, a test, but also an affirmation. "How much are you willing to be here for him, Harper? Because this recovery will be long. And Raph's emotional recovery... that might be even longer. He'll push you away, he'll be angry, he'll try to prove he doesn't need anyone. But he will."
Harper met his gaze, her own decision firm. She looked back at Raphael, at the peaceful, vulnerable expression on his sleeping face. The cracked shell, the bruised plastron, the bandaged lacerations, the nightmare-fueled fear – it all cemented a truth in her heart she had perhaps only subconsciously known. This was more than just friendship, she knew that already. It was a bond forged in fire, a deep, unwavering connection.
"As much as he needs me," Harper replied, her voice steady, filled with a quiet strength. "For as long as he needs me. I'm not going anywhere, Leo." She reached out, placing her hand gently over Raphael's bandaged one, a silent promise. "He's not alone."
Leo nodded, a silent acknowledgment of her unwavering commitment. In the quiet depths of the lair, as Raphael slowly began his long journey of healing, a new chapter in their lives, marked by shared vulnerability and profound, unseen comfort, had truly begun.