Weeks 

It had been weeks. 

It had been too long since their brother was taken, and Leonardo had to fight down his own, unfamiliar impatience with more effort than he liked to admit. His remaining two brothers were equally eager to speed things up and finally, finally rescue their missing sibling. 

They were vibrating with desperate impatience and Leonardo, as their leader, was struggling hard to distribute the needed calm and patience to make sure they wouldn't fail. 

Messing this up would jeopardize Raphael's life, as well as their own. And that simply could not happen. 

No. This needed to go smoothly, quick and with all the ninja stealth they could muster. This lab was a labyrinth and plastered with surveillance. It had taken Donnie days to find a route in. And a way to get them all back out. After all, there was no way of telling in what condition their brother was. Discouraging as it was, they had to plan a way out they could manage while carrying their fourth brother. 

Shaking his head to clear it of such thoughts, Leonardo focused back on the task at hand. 

The way in. It was ridiculously easy. It was an old building, there were spaces and ducts between the walls, no surveillance. 

In the best of cases, this would be their route back out as well. Narrow spaces, they had to crawl and climb a few times, but it was easy enough to get through if one could walk. 

'If' being the keyword. 

If Raph wasn't in a condition to walk on his own, if they had to carry him, they'd never fit through the walls. 

But first things first. They needed to find him. Then, they could decide on how to go back home. 

Leonardo sighed silently. This was so easy. He didn't want to say 'too easy', because there still was too much to deal with later. But all of this could have been over with weeks ago, if they had just found Raphael sooner. Bishop's men had hidden him so well for so long that it felt like a blow to the guts to think how simple it now was to get to him. 

Shaking his head, Leo focused back on the task at hand, concentrating on his steps. 

They moved noiselessly, climbing their way down to the level where Raphael was held. 

Soon enough they were in a small space just above their targeted location, scanning for personnel and structures, possible dangers and... and Raph through the thin grate separating them from the room. 

It was strange how much it all felt like routine. They had snuck into so, so many facilities, infiltrated buildings, had gone through the same tactics time and time again, so often that Leonardo was hit by a strange sense of dizziness and surrealism. 

Warm fingers touched at his shoulder and he snapped back to attention, meeting two pairs of concerned eyes. Donatello nodded downwards, pointing to a small cubicle in the corner of the room. It was a cell, no, a cage, and Leo caught a glimpse of a green leg as it shifted in and out of sight. 

Good. 

Very good. 

Raphael was there. And he was alive. 

That was something. He nodded at his brothers and took a steadying breath. There still was no clue about the condition of their captured brother, but he was alive and moving. That was good. 

Still, they had to wait, prepare their next move carefully, they couldn't risk someone calling for help or setting off an alarm. 

Three men in lab coats were the only people around and it didn't look like there were more to expect for the moment. Also good. Three were manageable. 

Quietly, Donatello reached into the leather bag he carried, rummaging through  ts contents. They had brought everything they could carry, from smoke pellets to sleeping gas, some flare guns and – on Mikey's insistence – a handful of fireworks for distraction. In here, though, none of them would do much good, even the sleeping gas might set off some detector or invisible alarm. And with Raphael in the room, they couldn't risk the gas, either. 

In the end, Donnie pulled out the tranquilizer gun and a few darts. 

Leonardo sent him a short look, needing no words to ask. Could Donnie do it quick enough?

He received a short, sure nod and moved out of the way, trusting his taller brother with this. It was tricky. Donnie had to hit three people with three darts, reloading the gun quick enough to knock all three of them out before they could do anything.

Donatello moved to the front, placing his equipment in easy reach and allowing himself a moment to focus and watch the men below. They were seated in front of large screens, all of them typing away at something. They seemed to be pretty much drawn in to whatever they were working on. Perfect. It would give Donnie the needed few seconds to reload before they could react and reach an alarm.

 At least, that was what he hoped. 

Aiming the gun, Donatello took a breath and held it, firing the first shot. 

It was near noiseless, a simple, short whoosh of displaced air, then it hit. By the time the first dart met its target, Donatello had already reloaded, shooting a second and then the final dart with acute precision. There was a short moment of startled confusion, before the first man swayed and dropped.

Really, Leonardo eyed the leftover darts in the box and shook his head, those things were gold. They took effect within mere seconds and after a few moments to make sure all men were out cold, they pushed open the grates, climbing down and immediately moving to block the doors. 

Leonardo rushed over to Raphael's cell, pressing both palms to the glass separating them. “Raph!”

Raphael looked back at him with wide, startled eyes, a look of disbelief written all over his features, and Leo gave a small smile. “Don't worry, we'll get you out of there in a second.” That smile, however, did not last long. The more he took in of his brother's state, the more worry etched itself into his features. 

Raphael looked pale, exhausted, dark shadows making his vivid green eyes glow almost eerily. There were what looked to be fresh, heavy bandages around his middle, the slightest bit of pink seeping through, and Leonardo swallowed thickly. There were other, smaller injuries on him as well. Suddenly, all the horrible what-ifs came flooding his mind. 

But Leonardo shook them off. 

No time for that now. Already, Michelangelo was searching the unconscious men for possible key-cards, while Donatello was at one of the computers, trying to see whether the cell could be opened with a program. It left Leo standing in front of Raphael's cell uselessly. 

“Are you-...” He stopped himself. No...

No, Raphael was not alright. He could see as much. Instead, he asked. “Can you walk, Raph? There's an easy way back out, but...”

Raphael still stared at him, as if still not really comprehending what was going on. 

Before another word could be spoken, there was a click and hiss, startling the both of them, as the glass door snapped open. Donatello was there just a moment later, pushing the doors to the side. “Hey Raph, ready to go home?” He asked gently. 

Mikey came over as well, grinning brightly as always. “Man, Raph, you owe us a month's worth of pizza! Leo wouldn't let us order any while you were gone!” It was a valiant try, really. Mikey simply doing his best to try and coax a response out of their oddly quiet brother with some teasing. 

It didn't work. 

At the very least, though, Raphael finally started to move, seeming to come back to his senses and catch up to what was happening. His motions were sluggish, weak, and Leonardo didn't think twice about helping him. When he reached out to pull him him up, tough, the younger pushed him away with a sigh, before climbing to his feet by himself “Took you long enough.”

One hand went to the thick bandages, pressing against them lightly.

Donatello's voice was soothing and worried when he spoke, despite the need to hurry. “Raph... look, we're sorry it took us so long... but we really need to get going. Can you walk?” He gave an encouraging little smile. “Let's go home.”

“Home...” Something seemed to click in Raphael's head and the remaining three brothers were left staring in confusion as he started looking around frantically, snapping out of the strange, sedate state he had been in. Turning bright, green eyes back at his brothers, he pointed to a large drug locker. 

“Donnie, get those blue boxes! Lots of them! We need lots!” 

Confused, three pairs of eyes stared at Raphael. “What? Raph, we need to leave, and quick!” Leonardo moved to grab his arm, pull him along, if need be, but Raphael avoided his touch once more. 

“No, Leo! Just... just take those boxes, I need to...” He went over to a large, wired contraption, a glass-covered metal box, wires and tubes leading into it, to push open the heavy looking cover. A shaky sigh bubbled from his lips, sounding so relieved that Leonardo instantly worried even more. 

Something was horribly off and it just kept getting worse. 

“Raph, we need to hurry. We need to-” A sharp glare shut him up pretty effectively, the hot anger directed at him felt like an actual punch. “Raph...” 

“I'm not leaving without it.” He looked back over at Mikey and Donnie. “What are you waiting for?! Grab the damn boxes!” 

The two of them exchanged a look, but went to get a few of those unlabeled cartons into the bag Donnie had been carrying. There wasn't much space left, but they managed to squeeze a few of them inside. “Raph, dude, what exactly are we packing?” Mikey piped up, just as confused and worried as the other two. 

Leonardo just watched, frowning, as Raphael returned to the glass and metal box, leaning half into the strange contraption and picking up a small bundle from within, wrapped in a sheet. Then, finally, he turned back to them to answer.

“It's formula.”

All motion ceased. 

Strangely enough, it was Mikey who opened his mouth first. “...Formula? Like in... baby formula?” Something in Raphael's features changed, he tensed, defensively, but gave a short nod. 

“Just get as many of them as you can.” He said, voice grave and quiet and something clicked in Leonardo's mind. It seemed to catch on to his brothers as well, as all of their eyes dropped to the wrapped-up thing in Raphael's arms. 

The 'thing' moved, as if on some sort of cue and shifted, the sheet parting to reveal one tiny, tiny hand. 

A green, three-fingered little hand, weakly grasping at white fabric.