Chapter Text
Raph jolted up in a cold sweat, grasping at the warm sheets surrounding him as he gasped for breath. He clutched for his phone as he tried to settle his heart rate, squinting at the bright screen flashing the time back at him.
3:13 AM.
It wasn’t the first time he had woken up like this in the middle of the night, and at this point, he doubted it would be the last.
Screaming.
Crying.
Pain.
He closed his eyes tightly, shaking his head from side to side to try and physically push the memories out of his mind. His shoulder ached, and his damaged eye felt blurrier than usual.
He never once regretted pushing Leonardo out of the way, but every once in a while he found himself hoping the pain from the healing injuries would lessen… even just a little bit.
Raph had just wanted to help. He just wanted to try his best.
Ever since he was young, he tried his best. He made sure to help his father whenever he could, keep everyone fed as much as possible, and comfort them when they were feeling down. He’d stay up late, wiping away tears after nightmares. He’d get sick over and over again, trying to take care of everyone who had a cold. He’d exercise for hours and hours on end, until his muscles practically gave out, so he could become strong enough to carry everyone to safety if he ever had to.
But no matter how hard he tried, it never felt like enough. It wasn’t worth it.
He could never be perfect. He could never be a good leader, and he struggled with even being a good sibling constantly. He was always making mistakes, and his father knew that. They all knew that.
And now? After everything?
In the darkest hours of the night, Raph found himself hating everything he had ever done. Hating everything he constantly tried to be, and what he had become instead.
Over, and over, and over again. Every single night, without fail.
He hated himself.
What was the point? Everything he did in an attempt to help only served to hurt everyone around him.
Raph swallowed thickly as he tried to force his body to stop shaking. The sheer weight of him trembling was enough to rattle his metal bed frame, and he didn’t want anyone else to wake up and catch him like this. Silently choking down his tears like a petulant child.
It felt like every time he took one step forward, he was flung back another three.
Raph wanted to be reliable. So, he would wake up every morning and force himself out of bed. He would make his way into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face. He’d look himself in the eyes through the mirror, every single morning, and promise himself that he would do better today.
He would be better today.
He would blink away the tears. Then, he’d go into the kitchen to see if Mikey needed any help. But, he never really did. Not anymore.
No, Mikey was growing up and finding his own way with daily responsibilities and interests. His youngest brother would shoo him away every single morning, telling him that he didn’t need any help. And Raph would nod in agreement before grabbing a water bottle and heading back to his room, like a fool.
Mikey didn’t need him anymore.
He would stand in his room silently for a few moments, every day. Eyes glazed over as he tried to remember why he had walked back in the first place.
Eventually, Raph would remember; He wanted to be strong. So, he would drag himself over to his weights. Twice as much as the day before, he would think to himself religiously as he sat on his bed to begin curling first. He had to do at least twice as much as the day before, or else… Or else?
Every single day he would think he had to do twice as much as yesterday, and every single day he’d find himself unable to remember why. He simply had to, in order to be strong. Hours would pass, and by the end of his exercise regimen, Raph would find himself practically heaving on the floor in excruciating pain.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he would remember that this was too much. That it wasn’t helping.
He’d mash the side of his face onto the floor, praying to whoever might care to listen that the cool concrete would grant him all his wishes. That it would let him sink, down underneath the floor, and suffocate him.
He deserved to be down under the floor.
He’d always find a breakfast tray outside his door once he recovered enough to get up, but he could never stomach it after his workout. So, he’d stash it away underneath his bed to have later, thanking Mikey for the meal on his way to Donnie’s room.
He’d ask Donnie if he needed any help carrying anything around the lab. Every day, he'd ask. Without fail.
And every day, without fail, he would find Donnie using his advanced technology to carry everything for him. His smart brother’s headphones would be blasting in his ears, and he’d be tapping his feet happily to the tune as he paced around the lab. Completely oblivious to Raph standing in the doorway, asking- no, begging him to give him something to carry. Just like he used to when they were younger. But…
Donnie didn’t need him anymore, either.
Raph would watch quietly from the doorway for a short while. Torn between feeling relieved that Donnie was finally happy enough to fall into a trance while working again, and yet so hurt from feeling absolutely worthless. Again. Raph would make it back to his room, lost in thought. Conflicting emotions would rattle in his chest like gunfire.
Every. Single. Day.
He’d feel himself starting to panic. What was the point of him being here at all if he couldn’t help anyone? He wanted to blame the invasion for taking everything he was proud of away from him, but in reality he knew that wasn't it. He hadn't been rendered helpless. He was always like this. It had simply never punched him so hard in the face before. Not like this.
Pathetic. All he ever wanted to do was help.
That was all he had. And yet, lately it felt as if he had lost that as well. It was as if everything he stood for was slipping through his fingers faster and faster, and he was powerless to stop it no matter how hard he tried.
He’d shovel the cold breakfast in his mouth, barely tasting it pass down his aching throat. His eyes would burn with tears, but still, he refused to let them fall. It was already lunchtime, but he still hadn’t seen Leonardo yet. Maybe… just maybe, Leo needed him?
Raph wanted to be responsible.
So, Every single day, Raph would force himself back out of his room to look for Leo. His entire body was so sore from constantly exercising that every time he moved it felt like static, but he pushed on.
Eventually, he would find Leo. Where he always was, everyday now. Training, with their father.
Standing right where Raph used to.
He'd bite the inside of his cheek, struggling with the pain of feeling so… abandoned. He was so glad that their father was finally feeling better, enough to train Leonardo the way he should have trained Raphael. And he was so glad that Leo was getting the care and attention he truly deserved.
But… Leo didn't need him. Not anymore.
Not when Master Splinter was training him better than Raph ever could. Not when their father had finally stepped back up to the plate.
So, Raph would turn right back around.
He would be standing alone in the bathroom before he even realized it, his vision blurry and his stomach churning.
Raph didn't feel reliable.
He didn't feel strong, either.
He'd lost any semblance of responsibility he ever had.
He was worthless.
A wet, choked sob brought him back to reality, and he desperately grabbed for his phone again.
3:15 AM.
What had felt like hours was in actuality, only a few flimsy minutes. Of course it was. Lately it felt like nothing was going his way. He furiously wiped away hot tears, trying not to hiccup as he pulled in a deep breath and held it in.
Once he felt his chest starting to burn, he let it back out slowly. He repeated the process until his tears finally slowed to a halt and his breathing had steadied.
He closed his eyes, focusing on the near silence of the night around him.
He used to be so scared of being alone. He used to want to stay close to everyone, so he could protect them from harm if anything happened. But, everyone he loved could protect themselves now. So… It didn't matter anymore.
Nowadays, he was addicted to the small moments of peace that solitude brought him. He was spending more and more time locked up in his room, to the point that only emergencies and meals could drag him out. If he wasn't around anyone, he couldn't hurt them. They wouldn't be able to see him for what he really was, if he was alone. He wouldn't be able to let anyone down.
He was always letting people down, it seemed.
He wasn't reliable, he wasn't strong, and he wasn't responsible. Raph was withering away, and he didn't want anyone else to know.
He didn't want his family to watch him fall, and feel hurt that they couldn't help him. No. No one else could help when he started feeling like this.
It was too heavy, an all-encompassing feeling of grief and loss for something that Raphael never had a full grasp of in the first place.
He grieved everything he wanted to be.
Everyone he wanted to help.
Everyone he kept hurting by isolating like this.
He knew they were worried. Raph had closed himself off without even realizing how thick the walls he had put up had become. Breaking them back down felt nearly impossible.
Every meal left behind his door by Mikey reminded him. Every text message Donnie would send trying to casually ask how he was doing that went ignored. Every time Leo would hover anxiously around him after he forced dinner down his sore throat. Even Splinter would awkwardly ask if he wanted to watch a late night show with him nowadays. But… but it didn't matter.
Raph deserved to be down under the floor.
He looked down at his phone again, pressing lightly on the screen as it lit up once again.
3:19 AM.
Raph wasn't crying anymore. His breathing was calm, his eyes unfocused and empty. He felt so far away. So peaceful.
He figured a few pushups wouldn't hurt. Even if he felt worthless now, maybe… maybe he would feel better if he could feel something.
He lowered himself to the ground slowly, practically dragging his thick blanket with him as he sank off his bed and onto the cold floor.
It would be okay. Raph could be reliable again. He could be strong again. And surely, he could be responsible again. He nodded, convincing himself as he started pushing his heavy body up, ignoring the immediate burn of overworked muscles.
Raph could do this. It was nothing compared to how much his family deserved, and how much he felt he had let them down.
.
.
.
He just wanted to be perfect, someday.