Reaching the door into the lair, he paused. He could hear his brothers in there, talking about him.

“I hate when he does this.” Leo’s voice.

“Yeah. He knows it too.” Don replied.

“It’s just the way he lives. It’s not like he’s hurting anything by… doing whatever is he does out there.” Mikey came to his defense. Quietly, as if he didn’t even believe it himself, he went on “He’s got things on his mind.”

“What things? Did he say something to you?” Leo asked.

“No, he hasn’t. But I can tell. He’s been distant recently. More so then usual. There’s something going on.”

“I’ve noticed too.” Don said. “There have been days when he hasn’t said a word to me. Not a word. Do you think he’s angry at us?”

“No. If he were pissed at us, we’d know it. He’s not exactly shy with his temper.” Leo said, a bitter laugh in his voice.

There was silence for a minute, then Mike spoke, his voice quiet “I think he knows I’m there for him, I mean, he’s confided in me before, but I wish he’d take advantage of that. He just keeps so much inside.”

“Mikey the therapist…” Don chided.

“Seriously! I don’t want to ask him about it. But I want him to talk to me.” Mike said, his voice tinged with sadness. Raph hated that he caused his brother pain, but what could he do about it? He wasn’t going to go against his own instincts, that is, to keep what hurt him to himself, just to make Mikey feel better. Mike would get over it. He always did.

Deciding enough was enough, Raph stepped into the lair, surprising his brothers. They looked up at him with guilt in their expressions. Raph pretended not to have heard a word of their conversation. “Hey guys.”

“Hey Raph. Where’ve you been?” Leo asked, trying, and failing, not to sound patronizing.

“Leo, in the millions of times you’ve asked me that, have I ever answered?” Raph asked. When he received no answer, he said “That’s what I thought. G’night guys.” Quickly exiting, he stepped into his room, shutting the door behind him, thankful to be away from their prying eyes. Not bothering to turn on the lights, he navigated his way to his bed, kicking aside the things in his way. When his toes hit the edge of the mattress, he sank down onto it, grateful to just let his muscles relax. Lying on his stomach, his arms crossed under his head, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep, hoping his dreams would be less eventful then his night had turned out to be.

Unfortunately, sleep eluded him. After ten minutes, he resignedly opened his eyes, letting them adjust to the darkness in the room. His brothers must have gone to bed; he couldn’t hear them talking anymore. Don had been right earlier; he did know how much Leo hated it when he just left. But what else was he supposed to do? When he and Leo got in a fight, it was as he just couldn’t win. He knew he wasn’t as smart as Leo was, at least in some sense. Leo just had more control of himself. Either that, or he didn’t even need control, he just never got as angry as Raph. He would be angry with Leo, and, in his head, he would know why, but then wouldn’t be able to get it out in words. As opposed to Leo, who always knew just what to say to get under his skin – to drive his point home like a nail. And his point always seemed to be just how stupid and immature Raph was acting. It felt like all he could do was be louder then Leo, to yell more, to intimidate him. But that never worked. After a fight like that, he felt suffocated in the sewer, he’d go crazy if he stayed. So he left. It seemed like anytime he felt any extreme emotion – anger, sadness, frustration – all he wanted was to be alone, so he could figure it out on his own, and all anyone else wanted to do was talk it out. There was another reason he had to escape the sewers – to get away from all the talking. Mikey wanted to talk it out with him, to tell him that he was acting immature and stupid, but it was okay to act that way. He loved his brother, but he couldn’t stomach talk like that. Donny was the only one who never tried to get him to talk. Don liked being alone just as much as Raph did, and for that reason, Raph could relate to him. But, for the same reason, he couldn’t talk to Don about his problems. It would be strange. Plus, Don would probably just quote him some Freudian philosophy about the chronically immature, something wildly technical that Raph wouldn’t even begin to understand. So he just left. He didn’t understand why Leo couldn’t just accept it. He wasn’t hurting anybody by going, and he could take care of himself just as well as any of his brothers could.

Raph let out a heavy breath, rolling over onto his side. He hated it when he got started on those kinds of thoughts. Things were just the way they were, that’s how life was, no reason to get upset. Self-pity wouldn’t get him anywhere. No, it would get him somewhere, just not somewhere he wanted to be. He’d end up like Auda, trapped in the bottom of a million bottles. The minute he had that thought, he felt ashamed, as if he’d insulted her, as if she would know he thought it. If she did, she probably wouldn’t be offended. She’d probably agree.

Here’s the situation: I was at the club bar, I had a massive headache/hangover, and the bartender was ignoring me like the bastard he was. I almost felt betrayed, I was his best customer, he should’ve loved me more then his own mother. Especially since his mother kicked him out of the house when he was fifteen. He and I used to talk, back when I first came to the club and didn’t know anyone. Hell, I still did’t know anyone, but at least now, it’s by choice.

“Hey Charlie! Some service?” I called, trying to be heard over the din of music. As expected, he just waved me off. Fine. I tried a different approach.

“Hey motherfucker! Get your ass over here!” he gave me the finger, but didn’t come over. So much for that. It was time for my tried and true last-ditch effort. I got comfortable on the bar, and, one by one, threw all the beer nuts I could get my hands on at him. Fortunately, no one here eats the nuts, so I had plenty of ammo. Eventually, he’d get annoyed enough to come over.

Thankfully, Charlie annoyed easily. Slamming his hand on the bar in front of me, he said, through clenched teeth, “What do you want?”

“A house in the burbs, a golf playing hubby and three-point-five kids. And a dog. I want a dog.” I answered, with a smart-ass smile on my face. He just shook his head, pouring me three shots of tequila. We always went through the same song and dance; he knew what I wanted all along. I watched the amber liquid pour into the three tiny glasses, my mouth watering. He finished, leaving the bottle for me. I quickly downed the three shots, and all I could think of as they burned by throat is how much I adore tequila. I could practically feel my senses dulling as I did two more shots. I stared at the bottle, wondering how many shots were in it. Why not find out? I poured and drank shots until the bottle was nearly empty. Now I’m ready to do what I came here for in the first place. I was ready for my night to really start. I happened to know that Charlie dealt cocaine from behind the bar, and, that night, he happened to have a lot on him.

“Charlie, c’mere!” I yelled. It wasn’t as busy as it was before, and he came over fairly quickly.

“What now?” he asked, picked up the empty bottle “Jesus, you drank it all?” I just nodded. That’s not what I want to talk about. “Charlie, do you have any blow?”

He leaned in closer to me “Not so loud, huh? Yeah, I’ve got some.” He gave me the once over “But you can’t pay.” “You’re right. I can’t. But I think you’re going to give me what you’ve got.”

“Why? I let you drink all my tequila, but my cocaine is a different story.”

I smiled with what I hoped was sweetness. “Charlie, you know I’m not above blackmail to get what I want.”

He nodded, suspicious. “It wouldn’t surprise me.”

“If you give me enough blow for the week, I won’t tell Vince about your little activities with his son.” I grinned. I’d been holding that trump card for months.

“What are you talking about?” Charlie asked.

“You know as well as I do, but if you’re going to make me say it in plain words, fine. I was out in the alley puking when you brought Vince’s son out there with a joint and then…” I searched for the perfect wording, grinning when I found it “made him your bitch.”

I could tell Charlie wanted to argue, to deny it, but he knew it was true, and he knew he couldn’t trust me with this. My loyalties used to run deep for the people I cared about, but my priorities had changed.

“Fine, you little bitch.” He went under the bar, rummaging around. My little tidbit was the perfect piece of information. Charlie was vehemently in the closet, which was wise, considering all the neo-Nazis that frequent this fine establishment. Plus, Vince, the owner, didn’t even know his son came here, not to mention get fucked by the fortysomething bartender.

Charlie came back, setting a manila envelope on the bar. “This is everything I have on me.”

“Thank you.” I smiled, taking the envelope. It was deliciously heavy. I walked away from Charlie, straight to the bathroom. There weren’t many people in there; except for a stall filled with two girls who, judging by the noises they were making, weren’t coming out any time soon, it was empty. I locked the door of a stall behind me, sitting on the toilet. Tilting the envelope down, I poured two lines of coke onto the flat top of the toilet paper dispenser, quickly snorting them and pouring two more. After those were gone, I quickly poured two more. I stopped feeling the world around me, the only thing I thought about was pouring and snorting. One shot had felt amazing, twenty will feel even better when I get there. Maybe I already had; I had stopped counting when all the hits started blending together. After some amount of time, I fell back into the wall. I couldn’t feel a thing, and I didn’t care. I was floating – out of my dingy, skinny body, above the smoke, the terrible music and the hopeless people that filled the space behind me. The pounding drums and raging guitars I used to love and had grown to hate faded away. I was above it all, and, finally, after all those years spent curled in a ball on the floor, I was out of that place. It had all faded to gray, and, under the influence of the only thing I love, all the things about my life I hated were gone, replaced with nothing more than numb awareness.

Raph let himself down to the alley shadows, casting a gaze up and down the alley, looking for Auda. She wasn’t there, which worried him a little. She was almost always out there. Pushing the worry away, he leaned against the wall, watching the heavy iron door that lead to the inside of the club. Within moments of his arrival, the door creaked open a crack, Auda falling out of the doorway the minute she let go of the door’s support. Raph watched as she laboriously righted herself, stumbling to her now familiar place on the alley wall. She didn’t puke though, just collapsed against the wall, a manila envelope clutched in her thin fingers. She was drunker then he’d ever seen her. There was something different about her tonight, something he couldn’t put his finger on. She began to look around, obvious panic growing in her as she searched for something, her emotions spiking up and then, just as quickly, back down when she found a flat piece of sturdy cardboard. Balancing in on her knees, she tipped the envelope she was holding, pouring out a small amount of white powder onto it. Understanding dawned on him as he watched her prepare to take a hit. It was cocaine. She was high. She didn’t even bother to arrange it into lines, just began to lower her head.

“Auda!” Raph called, stopping her. Startled, she tipped the cardboard from her knees. Immediately, she scrambled for it, touching her fingers unbelievingly to the powder on the wet pavement.

“Jesus Raphael, what the fuck!?” her voice was high and raw. She looked up, searching for him in the shadows. He met her eyes, and immediately looked away. Her eyes were wild and unfocused, darting from place to place, red and bloodshot. In the back of his mind, he knew she did this, but he’d hoped never to have to see it.

“Auda, don’t do it.” He said, hating how much he sounded like Leo. He didn’t believe in omens or signs, but, for some reason, he was terrified for her.

“Don’t do what? Snort anymore?” she was sitting cross-legged on the alley floor “Well you can just fuck off!” she laughed at her own joke, the harsh sound splitting the air.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” He said, trying to hide his growing panic.

“Calm down, I’m a pro.” Again, she laughed, pouring the powder into her cupped hand, raising it to her nose.

“No!” he jumped out of the shadows, grabbing her wrist and forcing it to one side. She looked up at him from she sat on the ground, her eyes widening. Oh, shit! Raph thought. This wasn’t how he wanted her to see him for the first time. Too late for that now. Auda looked him up and down “What are you?”

He dropped his hand from her wrist. As he looked at her red, unfocused eyes, he received some bitter relief. There was no way she’d remember this tomorrow. Kneeling down across from her, he answered her simply. “I’m a turtle.”

“A turtle?” she asked, unbelievingly. He nodded, and she erupted in rough laughter. He flinched at the sound. “This is the strangest hallucination…”

So she thought she was hallucinating. He had no reason to correct her. “Auda, let me…” he reached out and touched his fingertips to her neck. Her pulse was racing. However much cocaine she’d had was too much. Already, her eyes were dilated as large as they would go, and her breath came too quickly. “You need to go to a hospital.”

“A hospital? Why?” the idea seemed just as funny to her as his being a turtle had been.

“Because.” He answered. He’d seen people O.D. before, and he wouldn’t let that happen to her. There was no way she’d survive it. Again, he wrapped his hand around her wrist, trying to ignore how skeletal it felt, and pushed her cocaine filled hand away.

Her eyes followed her hand, and she glanced from it to Raphael. In a quick, panicked move, she pulled her legs out from under her and kicked out, catching him full in the chest. It was his surprise more than her strength that knocked him onto his back. He scrambled up, but it was too late, she already had her hand to her face.

“Auda! No!” he yelled, but it was too late. She’d snorted most of what was left before he knocked her hand aside. The rest of the powder flew to the wind, but she didn’t even notice. She leaned back on the wall, her eyes focused on things only she could see. Raph grabbed her arms, bringing her body forward from the wall. Her head lolled back on her shoulders, her body limp. The only thing holding her up was him. He called her name again and again, shaking her thin frame, but there was no response. He took her pulse again, and it was even faster than it had been the first time. Her skin was hot to the touch, her breathing quick and shallow. Suddenly, her body seized up, and choking noises gurgled from her throat, then, nothing. She stopped breathing. She’d done was he was always afraid she would – overdosed. Now she was in cardiac arrest.

“No! Auda, no!” he laid her on her back, tilting her head up. He opened her mouth and pinched her nose shut, ignoring the blood that dripped from it. Lowering his mouth to hers, he breathed oxygen into her, stopping to pump her chest, one, two, three times, then back to her mouth. He repeated this over and over, losing count of the times he’d breathed into her, just knowing he wouldn’t stop until she breathed again.

Suddenly, her entire body convulsed as she started to cough. Raph let himself fall back on his haunches as she curled up on her side, coughing. The worst was gone, but she wasn’t completely out of trouble yet. He watched her, thinking of how he was going to get her to a hospital without anyone seeing him. He thought of calling an ambulance and leaving her there, but scrapped that idea almost as quickly as he’d come up with it. There was no way he was leaving her here.

Those thoughts disappeared from his head as she rolled over to face him. Realizing she was shivering, he carefully reached for her, hlding her against his chest. She leaned her head against his shoulder, looking up at him. The look of pain on her face tore him up. She looked like a kicked puppy. “Raphael…” she said, her eyes misting over. Heavy tears rolled down her cheeks as she turned into his shouldar, hiding her face. He held her to him, letting her cry until she fell deeply asleep. Raph let out a heavy sigh. After the few minutes – God, had it only been a few minutes? – of intensity he’d just been through, the alley seemed, if anything, serene. Looking down at the tiny woman in his arms, feeling her negligible weight against his chest, one thing passed through his head. What was he going to do with her?