Chapter Text
“Raph.” Casey knocked on the door, making the whole room reverberate with the sound. “I know you’re in there. Come out, please. I just want to talk; you don’t even have to talk back if you don’t want to.”
Raph listened from the other side of the door. He didn't want to open it, but he knew he should. Otherwise Casey might get April, or worse, Leo, to try and get him to come out. Then he’d be forced to talk.
“I’m just gonna keep annoying you until you come out.” Casey started to slap both hands against the door, drumming rhythmically.
Raph sighed and swung open the door. “What? I’m not in the mood to talk.”
Casey's hands were still up from obnoxiously whacking the door. He lowered them sheepishly and stepped back. “Like I said, you don't have to talk. C’mon, let's take a walk.”
He stuck his head outside and looked around. “Walk? Walk where?” He wasn't in the mood to go anywhere, but sitting around and having Casey try to pry his feelings out of him didn't sound any better.
“Just a quick walk around the tunnels. I figured you wouldn't be willing to talk to me here, so let's take this somewhere else. You’ve been cooped up in here all week; it’ll be good to walk around. And when you inevitably start yelling at me, I'll have plenty of space to make a run for it.” He coughed and turned his head.
“What was that?” Raph shot him a look.
“Uh… nothing.” Casey stepped out of Raph's way and put his hands in his pockets. “And don't worry, I already asked Splinter, and he's fine with it as long as we stay close.”
He stepped farther back into his room and debated. He wouldn't admit it to Casey, but the idea of leaving his room, let alone the lair, made his stomach drop. At least he wouldn't be alone; Casey would be with him, and they wouldn't go far. He saw the concern on Casey's face as he stood indecisively in his room, and it ticked him off.
“Okay, fine.” He walked out and closed his door, ready to prove that he was fine—because he was. “I guess I better just count myself lucky you're not April.”
Casey snorted and led the way to the exit. “Yeah, well we're tag-teaming interventions, so just be glad you got the less emotionally intelligent out of the two of us.”
“So, I’m guessing one of my brothers is being accosted by her right now? As long as you don't pull any psychological-therapy-bull on me, then I'll stay.” He could hear the shake in his voice as he stopped his foot from crossing the threshold between home and unpredictable. It was like his body physically wouldn't let him cross. He couldn't bring himself to move; he tried his best to seem nonchalant about it.
“When have I ever been one to use—let alone know how to use—psychology?" Casey didn't seem to notice his hesitation, or he at least pretended not to. “She thinks it's better to talk in your room, because it'll give you the impression of having more control. I know April’s smarter with this kinda stuff, but I think I might know better when it comes to this. I figured you wouldn't want to bring all that junk into your space; if you’re gonna spill your guts, you probably don't want to have that stuff invading your room. I sure as hell wouldn't want someone bombarding me with personal questions in my room.”
Raph hadn't even noticed he had finally left the lair until Casey stopped walking and leaned against the wall. For a minute he had let his mind wander, and it let him forget. It had been nice… forgetting what it felt like to be scared. He appreciated the thought Casey had put in for him. He was right; the last thing he wanted was to be stuck in his room having questions lobbed at him while the air filled up with pent-up emotions until he burst. His room was where he could block out all the things he didn't want to think about. Maybe getting away from the lair had been the best idea.
“So… how have you been holding up?” Casey failed miserably at trying to make the question not seem awkward.
“Real smooth way of sliding that in, Jones,” Raph said sarcastically. “I’m doing fine.” He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. He was waiting for Casey to call his bluff and pull an April on him.
The look on his face told him he didn't believe him for a second, but he seemed to let it go. “Have you guys done anything together yet? Or are you all still cooped up in your rooms?”
Raph felt the guilt crawl up his spine. “We’ve all stayed to ourselves. The only time I've ever really seen everyone is when we come out to get some food or the few times Donnie wanted to do a check-up.” There was a pit in his stomach thinking about the past two weeks. They were all finally back together, but they had hardly seen each other. It was probably for the best; he still felt unstable. The last thing he wanted was to blow up on his brothers. It wasn't their fault he was so messed up.
“You must be stir-crazy, man. I bet you've been crawling the walls of this place. I know how crazy you get after being cooped up." Casey nudged his arm and laughed.
Raph looked at him before staring at the ground. “I should feel that way. It’s strange.” He looked at his hands—they were shaking. His hands weren't the kind to shake.
“What does that mean?” Casey pushed himself off the wall and moved closer.
He clenched his trembling hands into fists, willing the shaking to stop. Before Bishop, he would have been filled with pent-up energy. Dying to get on the streets, to fight, run, anything. He was so used to the buzzing feeling that came with being cooped up, but instead his body just felt numb. He felt frozen, but the world was still running too far ahead of him.
“Back with Bishop… well, you know. I spent most of my time all drugged up. Whenever I regained my consciousness for the short periods of time that I did, I couldn't really go anywhere, but I guess it didn’t bother me since it was better than being back in my head. I at least had some control. It's hard to feel trapped in a room that felt like a paradise compared to what was waiting for me whenever I closed my eyes.” He opened his fists and watched as the shaking resumed. “But let me tell you, Casey, the mind is not as big as you think. It can be a pretty small space—smaller than that room ever was—and it's easy to feel trapped in it.”
“Dude.” Casey stared at him in silence. “Man, this would be so much easier with April here.”
He closed his hands and crossed his arms. “Yeah, well, it’s good she’s not here because I was promised no psycho-whatever-analyzing of my emotions. I've already had enough emotioning for one day."
"Technically, I promised you wouldn't have to talk; I never said I wouldn't try to pull an April on you. I just suck at doing what she does.” Casey smiled smugly, like he had trapped him in a loophole. “Sorry dude, you're not off the hook just yet.”
“Yeah, well, you can talk all you want.” He walked further down the tunnel. Some part of him wanted to leave Casey behind and be alone, but the larger part of him didn’t want to be alone.
“Okay, fine. I guess I’ll talk then.” Casey jogged to catch up. “Can I at least talk about some of my emotions?” He ran in front of him and held out his arms. “I promise I’m not trying to bait you into sharing. I… I just wanna talk with my friend.”
Raph sighed and sat against the wall. “Just don’t get too mushy.”
Casey chuckled and took a seat next to him. “I’ll try my best not to be too mushy.” He leaned his head back and took a few seconds. “Man… I’ve been trying to hold it together for weeks.” His breathing sounded shaky as he let out a sigh. “Shit…I’m trying really hard not to break right now.” He laughed anxiously and looked up at the ceiling, blinking hard.
Raph's attention snapped into sharp focus. He wasn't sure if he could deal with an emotional Casey, but if it meant he didn’t have to talk about his stuff, he would go along. Other people's emotions were a lot easier to manage.
“I’ve held it together this long; I can’t believe I’m about to lose it in a sewer tunnel.” He kept laughing and wiped his eyes. “Well, who am I kidding… I’ve broken down tons of times on my own when April wasn’t around.”
“Casey… you don’t have to do this. April should really handle all these… emotions.” Raph didn’t like seeing Casey all…weepy. April would really be more suited for everything.
“Nah, man.” He wiped his sleeve across his face and sat up straighter. “Sorry, I’m good. This is supposed to be an intervention for you, and here I am taking all the emotional spotlight. It’s just… nice to be able to talk to someone again.”
“You had April to talk to. You still have April to talk to. I thought you all would have had a bunch of emotional hug sessions to get all this outta your system.” They had been so put together the week they had stayed with them. They had seemed so cheerful, strong, and emotionally balanced. He was sure they had gotten all the… emotions out of their way.
Casey scoffed and gave a watery laugh. “Are you kidding? The whole time you dudes were missing, I could hardly speak to her. Especially not after all the times I begged her to quit. Every time I opened my mouth, it was like she had already tuned out everything I was gonna say.” He threw out his arm and shouted into the tunnel. “It’s like she was so immersed in her own grief she couldn't see that everyone else was drowning in theirs! God forbid anybody else grieves differently than her!”
Raph felt like his chest was twisting. The whole situation had brought out something dark in all of them. Bishop had twisted everyone—everything—into a knot that couldn’t come undone. How was it possible for him to have broken something without even laying a finger on it? That monster had hurt his friends without even knowing them, his shadowy grip clawing at them from afar. It made him angry.
“Y’know… every so often, like if me and Red started arguing, or if something happened, I’d find myself wanting to talk to you guys. Then I remembered… and the feeling was crushing.” Casey closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’ve missed being able to talk to you guys. I just wanna be able to talk to my friends again.”
Raph coughed, trying to compose himself and unclenched his fists, trying to relax. “I’ve missed you too… I guess.” He shifted his weight, crossing his arms as he awkwardly moved closer. “I’m sorry you were so... upset. You really are one of my best friends, and I—”
Casey snorted. “Dude, you don’t have to keep talking. I’m good.”
He sighed. “Thank goodness, this was getting too touchy-feely for me.”
Casey chuckled and brought his knees up to his chest. “Thanks for listening, man. Just don’t tell April I used this intervention as a vent session, or else I’ll be the next victim of an intervention.”
There was a long silence where the only sound was water dripping somewhere in the distance. The silence was surprisingly nice. For the few minutes it lasted, for once his mind wasn't solely focused on Bishop. All the puzzle pieces finally seemed like they fit back together. It almost felt normal, like the past was a thousand miles away.
“Okay, I’ve spilled my guts,” Casey sighed and wiped his eyes. “So would you maybe consider opening up just a teensy bit for me?”
Raph scowled and rolled his eyes. “I knew this was a trap.”
Casey groaned. "Please, man, if I don’t come back with something, April’s just gonna come do it herself. See how much better I feel after sharing.”
He knew it was the truth, and the last thing he wanted was April to start poking him; he wouldn’t be able to ignore her psycho-emotional-voodoo. “Fine. Look, I know we’re all gonna say it wasn’t that bad, or that we didn’t get the worst of it, and for that we’re all liars.”
Casey moved closer, obviously pleased his pleading had worked. “Terrible liars I’ll add.”
He rolled his eyes. “Anyways, I know you’ll say I’m lying, but I’m telling you, I’m good.”
“Liar,” Casey didn’t hesitate to call him out.
He growled and tensed up. “Unlike my brothers, Bishop never really messed with me. From what I can gather, the drugs he used on me and Donnie weren't really the finished product—we were the test group. Donnie woke up just fine… I didn’t.” He looked down at his arms. He swore he could still tell where tubes had been sticking into him. He wasn't sure what made his skin crawl more, the fact Bishop took control of his body like that or how he took control of his mind. “Bastard couldn’t even control his own damn experiment.”
“And what did the drug do?” Casey was suddenly too close. “I know both you and Don said stuff about hallucinations and dreams, but Donnie didn’t want to tell us, and you just said bad stuff. What bad stuff?”
Raph’s chest turned to stone. He couldn’t pull air into his lungs; his heart had stopped for far too long, and his blood seemed to settle in his veins. His body had gone stone still; even the shaking in his hands stopped. Casey would hate him if he told him the truth. After everything he had done, hallucinations or not, Casey would hate him.
“Dude?” Casey shook his shoulder. “Dude?!”
His body was jumpstarted, and the feeling was unerving. “Sorry. It's, uh… hard to remember… fuzzy from the drugs.” He hoped Casey would take the lie.
Casey scowled at him, eyes scanning over his face. “Well, what can you remember?”
Damn. Casey wasn’t letting him off easy. “I remember… death. Lots of… violence.” He hoped the blunter he was, the less Casey would prod.
“Death? What kind of death?” He looked like he regretted asking.
“I don’t know, the dying kind of death.” He wasn’t sure if he should find Casey’s question dumb or funny. “After a while I got used to it, so it’s not as bad as it seems.”
Casey looked horrified. “What does that even mean? Death as in you dying or someone else dying? Dude, I know I promised not to force it out of you, but jeez! I… I feel like this is something I should get April for.”
“No! Please don’t get April; you know how emotional she can get.” The last thing he wanted was April picking apart his memories and, God forbid, starting to cry. Dealing with his emotions was hard enough.
“Fine, but you gotta talk, man. What the hell happened?”
He sighed, tilting his head back to gaze at the crack in the ceiling, the faint scent of damp earth mingling with the echo of distant water droplets. “Bishop’s whole evil monologue was all about our biggest fears. I figured he’d go for surface-level stuff, lasers, saws, bugs, maybe some vats of acid or something—lame villain shit." The cracks in the ceiling widened and branched out like fractures in his own resolve. “I’d been faced with the possibility of death before, but never mortality.”
“What do you mean?” Casey looked confused.
He sighed and focused on following a single crack. “You know me; I’m hotheaded, I know I am. I’ve jumped into fights with little consideration put in. I’ve jumped in knowing full well I could die; that’s what we all do; our whole lives are just the constant threat of death.” He laughed, but it wasn’t funny. “I guess I never really cared, though. If I die, I’m already dead; why should I care?”
“Raph…” Casey sounded unsettled.
“Whatever. The only part of death that really scared me was the thought of… y’know… one of you guys…But I always knew that I could just jump in and stop it; I’d be fine doing that.” Casey’s silence cut into him like a knife. “But Bishop… he made it so… I was surrounded by it. Not just death, mortality. The first time... hell, I can remember it like it happened this morning.” The crack he was following finally stopped, disappearing into the wall. He found a new crack to trace along the ceiling as his mind worked overtime.
He could remember the sound of a gun; he had heard a gun—seen a gun. It had sounded just like Bishop's gun. One second he was paralyzed, and the next Leo was yelling at him. There had been blood on his hands. The feeling of bones cracking under bones. He had no memory of how he had gotten there, just a paralyzing fear blinding him.
“Someone shot a gun, and the next thing I knew, I was beating their face in. All I did was blink and—bam! I didn’t even know I was doing it. Mikey and Donnie got hurt, and Leo looked so angry, but even worse than that, he looked scared. Then I was home, and it was like nothing had happened.” His fist involuntarily tensed at the memory. “It was scary, not having control over myself like that. What was even scarier was when I heard Leo’s voice and I felt myself hitting something over and over; I thought it was him. I didn’t even trust myself not to do that. What does that say about me? Does that mean I'm capable of hurting someone I care about without even realizing it?" He found another crack to follow; it branched out into too many small lines to trace. They were just cracks in the ceilings, but looking at them felt so overwhelming. He lost control of what he had been thinking. He had been ready for April or Casey to try to pry everything out of him, but all of his pre-made excuses slipped away.
Casey grabbed his hand. “Dude, don’t say that. It was all the drugs. You weren’t in control of any of that stuff.”
He hated the sympathetic look on Casey’s face. Casey had no idea what it had been like. Those thoughts weren’t because of Bishop; Bishop had just set up the pieces. “No! You don’t get it! There was this moment where… I had done something awful, and I had no control. I've always thought that if something happens, if I go overboard, there will always be someone to stop me and pull me back. I've never had to hold myself back because someone is supposed to stop me. Someone…" His breath rattled in his chest; his entire body was vibrating. "No one tried to stop me. I just blacked out. No one stopped me, and I… It was the last vivid thing I could remember, then there was this… sound.” A chill crept over him; he could still feel everything. Bishop’s voice had whispered in his ear, a sound that reverberated through his body and ran through him like poison. His body had been completely still; his heart didn’t beat, and his lungs couldn’t work; he imagined it was what death felt like. He had been able to feel his own blood turn cold and his brain begin to die. He wasn’t sure how long he had stayed like that.
“According to Donnie, when he had woken up, everything was fine. Something happened, and I didn’t wake up, so I was stuck. So whatever happened after that, everything I did, everything I saw, that was all me. All the terrible things I did, that was everything I was afraid I could do.”
Casey opened his mouth like he was going to speak but closed it. Casey probably hated him—was terrified of him. He should be; Raph was afraid of himself.
“I would black out, and the next thing I knew… bad things would happen. Bishop made me so angry, and every time I tried to fight, it would just backfire. I’ve never been afraid to put myself in danger, because it didn’t matter if I got hurt, but Bishop knew that. If I tried to fight him, he wouldn't aim the gun at me; he would just aim it at someone else.” Bishop had the perfect plan. He would never attack directly; he would just pass the pain onto whoever was closest. That’s why he had been so nice to Mikey; he was planning to use him as a living shield. It was a fact that made him seethe.
He stood up and brushed himself off, trying to regain his composure. “So yeah, it’s not all his fault; it's not all the drugs. It's me. I’ve come to terms with that, so I’m fine. The longer I hang onto this, the worse it will get. Forgive and forget, right?”
“Fine?” Casey looked up at him like he wasn't sure whether to look amused or concerned. “C’mon, dude, there’s no way you can think any of that is on you. Forgive and forget? What kind of bullshit is that?” He pushed himself up and hurried after him. “He did awful things to you. You should be angry.”
“I’m not angry.” It was a lie; he was furious. He just wanted to get back to his room and be alone. “Being angry isn’t going to fix anything. It’s pointless to be angry.”
“What? Am I even talking to the same Raph right now?” Casey tried to run in front and stop him. “Being angry is like your whole thing. You gotta feel upset over this. He manipulated you!”
Raph held up his hands and tried to wave Casey away. He didn’t want to talk about it. All his anger had gotten him nowhere; it had only made things worse. He couldn't let his emotions control him anymore. Scratch that—he couldn't let Bishop control his emotions anymore. Bishop had wanted him to be angry because he knew what he was like when he was angry. He knew he had a short fuse, and that everyone around him would get caught in the blast. Bishop had turned him into a living time bomb, and it was only a matter of time before he exploded. Well, nuh-uh, no way would he let Bishop win.
“He hurt you—all of you! How can you not hate the guy?” Casey kept jumping in front of him, trying to hold him back.
His fist started to move before he had time to stop it. Everything he had been afraid of was happening. He was relieved when his fist flew past Casey and crashed into the wall. It hadn’t hurt as much as he had expected it to, but the shock that ran down his arm pierced his head.
“I do hate him!” Dust rained down from the ceiling. It reminded him of the same time Bishop had shot up at the ceiling; a loud crack followed by painful silence. “But hating him isn’t going to solve anything! It won’t make me feel any better! Being angry can’t fix it!”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t feel things! So what, anger is only useful if you can use it? You can’t just be angry about something?” Casey didn’t seem bothered by the cracks he had left in the wall.
“I don’t want to have all this build-up. If I get angry, then it’ll just stay in me, burning me up, and then I’ll direct it at the wrong person. I don’t want to—” Raph paused and looked at the wall and then at Casey. He sighed and covered his face. “Do what I’m doing right now.”
Any lingering annoyance on Casey’s face vanished as he chuckled. “So your brilliant plan to not feel angry was to just pretend you weren’t angry?”
He scowled. “My plan was to not let Bishop get the better of me.”
“Getting upset and letting yourself feel the emotions that come with such a traumatizing event isn’t letting Bishop get the better of you.” Casey grabbed his hand and turned it over.
He hadn’t realized how badly his knuckles were bleeding. “Yeah, well you should have seen the shit-eating grin on his face whenever he got under my skin. I'd be my usual hot-headed self, and he would use that. I would get so focused on him that I’d get so close to hurting someone else. I let him get the better of me, and because of that, Mikey got hurt—everyone got hurt. I’d get so close to those blackouts—I was so afraid I’d do something like all the things I had imagined." The cuts on his hand seared like hot coals, sending waves of pain through his entire arm. He could feel the raw skin that had been scraped off by the wall. “He wanted me to get angry. He wanted me to hate him. I don't want to give him what he wants. I wish I had been the one to… I don’t want to be like this—like him. I don’t want to lose control. What if I can never get rid of him? He’s still in my head! I—I can't—”
Casey squeezed his hand, sending sharp pains through his fingers as the cuts stung. “Sorry! You were freaking me out.” He let go. “Look, I’m going to dig into my inner April for this, so don’t hate me. Trying not to hate him is just going to make it worse. Feel angry, feel hatred, just don’t let it fester, man. Letting it sit and pretending it’s not there, that’s what makes it so explosive.”
He scoffed and rubbed his hand. "God, you really do sound like April."
Casey groaned. "Don't let her hear that. But seriously, dude, I think you need to confront your feelings head-on before they consume you. It's better to address them now than let them build up inside." He paused for a moment and rubbed his face. "That sounded so April-y, didn't it?"
Raph chuckled and pushed his shoulder. "I could hear her voice."
"Jeez… Well, my point still stands. When you guys were gone, I was so angry. I knew it was irrational, but I was angry at you guys. I knew you were probably in danger, and it wasn't your fault, but I was so upset. How could you all just leave us like that? It got so bad until I blew up on April about it. I was angry at her for still trying to have hope, I was angry at you guys for leaving, and I was angry at myself for being angry. I was a mess. So my genius plan was to pretend I wasn't upset."
"Let me guess," Raph said sarcastically. "That was a stupid plan."
"Exactly. So guess what, I let myself be mad, and I let myself be okay with feeling mad. And I'm still mad about some things. I've worked it—mostly—out, and you don't see me punching walls." He looked at the cracks in the wall.
Raph was starting to get annoyed by the divot he had made from punching the wall. He had a strong feeling that Casey would never let him hear the end of it. "I'm gonna get shit from Leo and April about this, aren't I?"
Casey grinned. "Oh, absolutely."
"Can we just tell Leo and April I did this by attacking an evil sewer monster that got the drop on us?" He looked at his bloody hand.
Casey put his arm over his shoulder and smiled. "Nope!"