Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Raph was anxious.

Which, considering the circumstances, yeah, he would say being anxious wasn’t the worst feeling.

But why was he anxious?

He was alone.

With Casey.

Which was very bad.

Raph fiddled with his hands, clammy and fidgety. Even better.

The bonfire crackled and spurted, bright flames illuminating the scenery around them. Everyone else had gone to bed already, exhausted from the day full of hiking and wading and all that fun camp stuff.

Casey sat on the other side of the fire, staring into the abyss of the bright light. His olive skin almost glistened, either from the heat or just how the light reflected off his skin. His hair was scruffy and messy, tied back with his signature bandanna. He wore a plain grey shirt, a few noticeable holes in the sides, completed with a pair of Levis and sneakers.

God, his boyfriend was stunning.

But he couldn't say that to Casey right now.

Because Casey was mad.

And for good reason, Raph believed.

Raph couldn't believe he had hurt Casey. I mean, sure, Raph was the hothead of all of them, known to get mad easily and act out on it. But Raph would never go as far as to actually damage someone permanently.

It made his heart squeeze; it made him feel like a monster because of what he did to Casey. Sure, Casey and Raph got into fights all the time, had their ups and downs, lowest moments and highest.

Highest like late night drives, running through sprinklers together and getting wet, rubbing barefoot in parks. Like on Cloud 9. Lowest moments like screaming matches, pushing and shoving, doors being slammed and Casey once jumping out of a moving car on the highway during an argument.

Now, Casey wouldn't even talk to Raph. For good reason, Raph kept reminding himself. Kept saying he had no audacity, no right to be mad at the Latino for not talking to him.

No, Casey had every single right to not talk to Raphael. Hell, the dark-skinned male was even surprised Casey was sitting in proximity of him.

Well, sure, there was a fire between them but still.

You might be wondering how did this even happen. Well, it was quite simple. An argument at a warehouse party, things got heated. Raphael can’t even remember what the argument was truly about.

He does remember they were by the stairs, in the basement maybe? “You think you’re living?” Raph had snarled, his voice barely restrained. “You’re just a fucking disaster waiting to happen! I’m tired of cleaning up your messes!”

Casey had stepped closer, his eyes blazing with anger. “And I’m tired of you acting like my goddamn babysitter! Maybe I don’t need you after all!”

The words were like a slap to the face, and Raph’s vision turned red. Without thinking, he shoved Casey, hard. It wasn’t supposed to be anything serious—just a push, a way to release the pressure building inside him.

But, Casey wasn’t expecting that. He had tumbled, lost his balance and before Raph could grab him, Casey was already down the stairs. And his leg…it was completely broken, bone sticking out of the knee as Casey just huffed and sobbed and grunted.

It wasn’t supposed to happen. It was an accident.

He remembered going down the stairs, almost gagging and trying to help before his hand was slapped away with a sharp “GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!” was yelled.

But soon, that anger died down. Sooner, quickly, Casey was sobbing again. And Raphael couldn’t tell if it was from the pain or the fact that he had hurt him. When Raph went to hug him, the other surprisingly let him. Even held on tighter, sobbing into Raph’s shoulder.

He was babbling hysterically, fat tears falling from his eyes and words from his mouth. Raph was frozen in place, only able to rub circles into Casey's back while humming soft words to him.

"Hey, hey—everything's fine—"

"You're going to be fine—"

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I’m so sorry, Casey.”

He kept repeating those words, over and over again. Raph was not the type to apologize—not to his brothers, father, friends, and Casey. He only remembers saying sorry to Casey once or twice after a fight.

But now, he couldn't stop saying it. The two words spilled out of his mouth like a broken record player. It was just too much for Raph to watch. His boyfriend, wailing about how he would never be able to play hockey again. To which Raph reassured him he would be able to, and that it would heal in no time.

But deep down, Raph knew Casey was right.

He would never play again.

And the doctor said the same thing.

And now, they were here. Casey looking at Raph with such a blank look yet his eyes filled with something the other couldn’t quite place. He’s seen that look before, with Splinter. But he couldn’t bring himself to try to understand or know what it was.

“Raph.” Casey finally spoke, his voice raspy yet softer than it usually was. Casey was loud, he was brash. Yet his voice was so quiet. “What are we even doin’ anymore?”

Raph didn’t know.

—

The day Raphael Hamato pushed Casey Jones down those stairs was the day Casey’s entire world stopped in motion.

The main thing he can remember is the pain. He didn’t feel it at first, but it seemed like once he looked at his leg, it all went to hell from there.

It was sharp, but even a thousand needles couldn’t compare to it. And it was intense, like fire and goddamn did it hurt like a bitch.

He's hurt himself before, broken, fractured, twisted, you name it. But this felt different... It felt abnormal. I mean sure, It hurt like what you would think. But this wasn’t the normal pain, the one he could handle. The pain that he could bear to lift himself up, and curse Raph out in Spanish at the same time.

He looked down at his leg.

Dios mio.

Dios fucking mio.

His leg sure was broken.

And the fucking bone was sticking out.

That’s when Casey lost it. He went hysterical, crying like a newborn. Through blurry eyes, he saw Raph rush over, kneeling next to him, rubbing circles into his back while mumbling apologies.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

"Oh my god Casey — I'm so sorry-"

"Please stop crying I'm sorry-"

Casey's head was racing, The pain was almost unbearable, The sight of his leg sickened him, Raph apologizing to him made his heart ache and burn like his leg, because fucking Raph of all people was apologizing.

Casey realized he wasn't even crying because of the pain anymore, he was crying because he knew he wouldn't ever recover from this.

He would never be able to play hockey again.

He wheezed at that, eyes wide and full of more tears. He would never get to pursue his dreams of being a hockey legend, seeing his family and friends from the stands, never see his boyfriend cheering him on as he played.

And after the game he and Raph would embrace and smile and cry happy tears. They would spend the night snuggling and playing video games while eating greasy food until his stomach felt like it would explode.

He would never get to live the future he dreamed of.

The one with Raph in it.

"I-I'm never going to be able to play again—" Casey wailed, choked out and strained. He stared at Raph with a blotched and tear-streaked face, full of crushed hope.

Raph had stared back at him with shock. No tears, no agreement but pure panic on his face and maybe — maybe it would be one of those kinds of arguments. The ones where they bond and understand over mutual suffering. Emotional or physical.

But no. It wasn’t that.

Instead, he lied to Casey’s goddamn face.

"No, no, no Casey — you will, I promise-"

“Promise.”

Raph was making a promise he couldn’t keep. Just like he did two days ago, just like he’s been doing. Just like what this argument was previously about.

Casey felt himself get mad all over again.

Eventually, someone saw the scene downstairs and called an ambulance. Casey was picked up, and it hurt even more when he was, and then put in a stretcher. He was rolled out of the warehouse party, Raph was there every step of the way until the ambulance.

Raph argued to ride along, but when the ambulance left without him, Casey couldn’t help but to feel some kind of relief.

Everything after that is a blur. He remembers being rushed in, hospital lights flashing by. 4 a.m. Somebody mentioned it was 4 a.m. Nurses and doctors surrounded him; one injected something into his arm, another put a mask over his face, and everything went dark.

He woke up, eventually. Shot up. Well, his eyes opened as he gasped for air, like he’d been drowning for so long.

Casey exhaled quickly, eyes scanning the room. The smell hit him first—hand sanitizer, that strong hospital smell he hated. As he took in the surroundings, the door burst open.

“Casey!” a voice squealed.

Mom.

He gulped, eyes flickering to his mom’s worried face, her eyebrows knitted, dark hair messy. She rushed over, panting, her clothes slightly dirty. She hadn’t been taking care of herself.

She grabbed him by the hips, making Casey shudder, pulling him into a long hug. He winced at the pain in his leg, put into an awkward position. He wished his mom would read the goddamn room—see that her son’s leg was broken and hugging wasn’t the best move.

But even if she knew, would she care?

“Oh, amor! Why did you have to go to that place?”

There it was.

The words his mom said every. Goddamn. Time. Every time he left her side, she greeted him with that sentence before clinging to him.

Casey winced again, more at her words than her actions. His mother had a habit of turning to him for help with everything—clothes, work problems, grieving over his dad (which was odd to Casey because shouldn’t she talk to a therapist?), and when Casey was hurt, to comfort her.

“Mami—”

“And it’s all that boy Raphael’s fault,” she spat.

Casey bit his lip. She wasn’t wrong, but she wasn’t right either. Sure, Raph pushed him and ruined his life, and he was pissed, but blaming Raph entirely felt wrong.

They were both angry hotheads getting on each other’s nerves. It didn’t help that Casey was probably having a manic episode at the time, along with Raph being overstimulated from the party—

Wait.

Why was he defending Raph?

“Debería haberte dejado en casa conmigo para siempre…” his mother tsked, her grip tight. Casey felt more guilt than anger. He should’ve stayed home, helping her through whatever was bothering her. He was always with her, through ups and downs. He was her reason for staying alive, she’d say. Now, she wasn’t taking care of herself, and all Casey felt was guilt.

“Mama, please—”

”Ah, ah, ah.” She tutted, putting a finger to his lips. “Hush, amor, it’s okay. I’m here.” It was weird how quickly his mother or Raph could get Casey to shut up. How much he wanted to be good for her, since she already had so much to deal with.

It was weird, how Raph and his mom had so much in common.

That’s how he got here. Well, not exactly. Nobody told April and Mikey what happened, so when summer break started, they both sent a message to the group chat—an invite to go camping.

Now they stared at each other, Raphael with that stupid, anxious look. Usually, Casey found it cute. Now? He didn’t know how to feel.

“Raph,” he called, getting Raph’s attention, seeing those slightly slanted eyes light up. “What are we even doin’?”

Raph’s face fell. “I don’t know,” he said, and that wasn’t good enough. Not for Casey. He wished he could get mad, scream, force Raph to face what he did alone. But Casey didn’t have the energy.

He was tired. And so was Raphael.

“We shouldn’t be together,” Casey said, up front. What? It was the truth. He tried to say it with venom, but it came out… sad. Not sad, but close. As if all the anger had been replaced with something else—a somber, slower feeling he couldn’t place.

He expected Raph to shout, look at him like he was crazy, punch him, just do something. But Raph just sat there, slightly tensing at those words and inhaling deeply. No angry remarks, nothing. It was unbelievable to Casey how he stayed so calm.

And then it came.

But not like he expected.

Raph just... broke down.

It first started with a few tears, then a waterfall of them. His green eyes full of heavy emotion as he stood up, looking broken, then stumbling over to Casey. And then he fucking got on his knees.

Raph shakily took Casey's hands, giving them a firm squeeze.

"I'm sorry, Casey. I'm sorry. I can fix this, I swear—"

And he just kept going, apology after apology spilled from Raph's mouth.

"Please let me help you—"

"It doesn't have to end like this—"

"Please—"

"Please, I'm sorry. I love you."

Now, under normal circumstances, Casey's barrier would have broken at the sweet words of love coming from Raph. But now? He felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. He felt no sympathy, no happiness, no anger, no sadness. Nothing except for a sliver of disappointment.

The Latino stared down at the other boy, face blank. Eyes heavy, eyebrows neutral, lips formed in a thin line. What would be a cold stare is what Casey wore on his face. But that was far from what it was; it was just a neutral face. 

Casey couldn’t pinpoint why he was so disappointed. Maybe it was because he had thought this would be different. He had thought it would work, he had thought — he had thought this relationship would be different.

But, of course, he was wrong. And there was nothing Casey could really say anymore, to make Raph accept it, to change what had happened. What was done was done. And Casey had already begun to accept that. Raph hadn’t.

So, he did the only thing he really could. He took his hand away from Raph’s grasp, and gave Raph his heart back.

—

Now, dear reader, this story isn’t meant to serve as a lesson or as a warning of some kind. It’s a tale, a tale of what happens you expect too much in someone who can only give what they have recieved.

When you put too much faith in a young god.

Now, as I write this fanfic with someone else, I gaze outside my window and I think that this was the place. Into the deep forest, somewhere, that was the place Casey Jones gave Raphael Hamato his heart back.

It wasn’t actually a heart. More like a lighter, with an Ace of spade design on it. He reached into his hoodie pocket, and set it into Raphael’s shaking hand.

Tears still fell and glistened in the light of his dying fire as Casey gave Raph a quick cheek kiss. Something he did with Raph, April or his mother. A goodbye without saying goodbye.

But usually he was off to a hockey game, off to do something incredibly stupid or illegal or off to help some poor defenseless woman who got her pursed snatched. Never did he say a goodbye to leave. Until now.

He got up, standing on one good leg and dusted himself of leaves and dirt and debris. As Raph only watched as his — as Casey walked away. Back into the cabin, but he walked away with those crutches that were at his side.

And Casey tried to pretend that he didn’t hear the soft hiccuped sobs coming from a certain hot-headed, dark-skinned 18 year old at the fire.

Now, dear reader, this is where both Raphael and Casey made mistakes. Think of their love like a wave, it comes when it’s been pulled by the moon and leaves when the sun is in the sky. Life pulls them close, a circumstance as burning as the sun like this pushes them away.

When a wave comes, and they sit on the beach, they should tell the wave “Welcome. Make yourself at home, stay as long as you like.” As the wave wets the hot sand under their toes. It can be a nice, cooled feeling. And the sun comes out, and the wave goes back to the sea, all they can really say is,

“Thank you for stopping by.”

”Hope to see you again soon.”

Chapter Text

It was weird, getting used to it.

By getting used to it, he means living with it. Acceptance is one thing, Casey Jones quickly learned, living with something is far different. When you accept something, it’s as everything you once felt is replaced by a somber feeling. A blue feeling. When you live with it, it’s almost like carrying a weight, small but there, wherever you go.

The day is always the same. Wake up. Make breakfast. Eat. Appease to his mom and comfort her if needed. Have his mom drive him to physical therapy. Yadda yadda. Come back home, finish chores, eat with his mother, watch some movies with her, tuck her into bed and then go to sleep. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

He had taken up swimming lately. It was for the physical therapy, but he found solace in the quiet depths of the pool. The water was a sanctuary, different from the fire that raged in the world above. Underwater, he was safe, far from the blaze that had consumed so much of his life. Fire couldn’t reach where water was.

But he decided to take a break from that schedule. To feel something other than the…well, missing. He missed his old life, missed talking to his friends instead of not taking showers for days on end, missed hockey, missed his team. 

Missed Raph.

So now, he was here. The sound of skates slicing through the ice was a memory, now distant and fading. Casey Jones sat at the edge of the abandoned ice rink on an old bench. His breath visible in the cold air, watching as puck after puck slid across the worn surface.

He took aim, hitting pucks with a precision that belied the emptiness he felt. Each shot was a practiced motion, a rhythm that no longer carried the thrill it once had. It was like trying to ride a wave not big enough. Trying to get used to the small waves and pulls and trying to recreate that thrill and feeling, only not to be able to.

He might never get used to not being able to play hockey. He might never get used to not talking to Raph.

Casey shakily held onto April, looking up at her and babbling, just like he did to Raph. April sighed, brushed strands of Casey's hair back, and rubbed his shoulders and back gently, speaking softly to Casey about anything she could think of, hoping to calm him down, but it did not work.

"I hate him," he spat, stopping his previous crying and drowning himself in the wave of red curls that April had. "I hate that piece of shit! I hate him, I hate him, I hate him—"

"I know, Casey," April spoke softly, trying to stay calm for Casey, just like she would in similar situations with him.

"That asshole! He ruined everything!" April winced at the pitch of Casey's voice, humming softly and trying to ground Casey by slightly squeezing his shoulders.

"Casey, please calm down for me."

"Sorry..." Casey mumbled, going quiet for a few seconds before erupting into tears again.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

He had been almost relieved when Raph had been gone. It was like the storm had finally settled, and he was left alone on a quiet beach, the roar of the waves replaced by an oppressive silence. The relief had been real but fleeting, quickly replaced by an ache—a loneliness that was both profound and uncomfortable. It was like longing for water, waves, the sound and the feeling of wet sand under his toes.

For the tumultuous beauty that had once been there, now replaced by an expanse of sand that stretched as far as the eye could see.

The emptiness was not unfamiliar, yet it was unsettling. It was as if he was homesick for the storm itself—an intense wanting for the chaos and the calm that had accompanied Raph’s presence in his life. The highest of highs and the lowest of lows. Even as he looked at the empty rink, he wished for the fire to return, to feel that storm again, even if it meant facing the turmoil that came with it.

A sudden voice cut through the silence, jarring Casey from his thoughts.

"Still got that killer aim, huh Jones?"

Casey froze, the puck he'd been holding in his hand falling to the ground with a soft thud. That voice, unmistakable and gruff—Raph.

Dios fucking mio.

—

"Raphael Hamato, correct?"

"Raph is fine."

"Right,” The man said, and something told Raph it was more dismissive than acknowledging. “Mind telling me why you're here today...?"

The boy scoffed quietly. Why was he here today? Because Leo had sent him. His family couldn’t deal with how bad he was getting with his anger issues and all of that. Raph didn’t see it; he didn’t see that he was depressed, or mentally unstable, or one step away from being in the ER the next morning. He was fine. He had moved on.

He didn’t need him.

And yeah, maybe threatening to kill himself after a fight with Leo wasn’t the best move. And yes, he did in fact feel guilty when Mikey had told him that Leo had quite literally broken down at Raph’s threat to himself.

And he definitely heard his family talk about it, hidden behind a wall.

"I mean, yeah, there’s obviously something wrong with him, but he’s trying, isn’t he—?"

"That’s the problem, Mikey. He isn’t! He’s not doing anything about it and is letting it get worse! He’s mental!"

Mental? Jeez, Leo, way to be subtle about it.

"Mikey, he’s crazy! He just threatened to kill himself! We have to get him help before it’s too late!" Donnie hissed, rubbing his temples. "And to think that this is because of the breakup..."

Raph tensed, sucking in a breath and squeezing his eyes shut.

He was over him.

He didn’t need him anymore.

He was an asshole.

It’s not your fault. It was an accident.

Raph breathed out for 4 seconds, just like Casey had taught him—

...

Fuck.

"—Don’t try arguing with me, Mikey! I’m sending him to therapy, and that’s final!" Leo had yelled from the kitchen.

Double fuck.

And that’s how he found himself here, telling the same exact story to his therapist, with just a smidge of adjustments. The guy seemed nice enough—middle-aged, glasses, suit, your standard white guy look.

"Well, I believe that’s all for today, Raph!"

Thank god.

Raph stood up, his shoulders tensing as he adjusted his jacket. The therapist's voice was pleasant, but the words still grated on him. He nodded curtly, feeling the weight of the session settle heavily on him. As he walked toward the door, he couldn't shake the echo of his family's concern from his mind. 

Stepping out into the hallway, he glanced at the clock on the wall—just another reminder of how time dragged on when he wasn’t doing anything he wanted to. His anger still simmered, barely controlled. He was supposed to be working on it, finding some balance, but every session felt like a hollow exercise in reliving the same pain.

Over and over and over. Without rest. Like the moon forever pushing and pulling the waves of the shore, over and over with a promised end yet no end in sight.

He wanted that fire back. He wanted Casey back and didn’t care for the chaos that might come with it. Raph was almost more comfortable in chaos anyway. He grew up in it. He wanted the highest of highs that made him feel like he was in the clouds and the lowest of lows that made him choke on his sobs and led to slammed doors.

”Are you seriously gonna walk out of the house?!” Raph had called from inside. Casey had repacked his bags, stepping outside in the rain. Stubborn jackass, he was.

”Yeah I’m gonna walk out of the fucking house—“

”You’re being immature and so fucking ridiculous Casey, get back inside!”

”LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE.”

”FUCK YOU.”

”FUCK YOU.”

Raph’s thoughts were interrupted as he spotted a family photo on the wall, showcasing a smiling family that seemed so distant from his reality. He let out a harsh laugh. They looked so happy, so complete—something he felt he could never quite reach.

Sure, he loved his brothers to death. He would die for them. Kill for them. But sometimes…sometimes it was too much. Sometimes water was too much to be in and his family was too good at holding his head under.

He shook his head, trying to push away the self-pity. As he left the building and stepped out into the crisp air, he felt a strange mixture of relief and frustration. Therapy wasn’t a fix—it was just another part of the long, winding road he was on. 

He walked to his motorcycle, hoping to escape into the familiar roar of its engine, but as he approached, he noticed something that made him stop dead in his tracks: a flyer for a charity hockey event.

It was plastered right there, in the front and somewhere he would see it. Of course it was somewhere he would fucking see it.

A lump formed in his throat. The thought of Casey flashed through his mind. The way he used to light up the ice, the excitement in his eyes, and the laughter they shared. It all seemed like a lifetime ago.

Raph tore his eyes away and shook his head again. He had to focus on himself, on getting better. But deep down, a nagging part of him knew that confronting the past was part of that process. Maybe he would go to the rink someday, not just to face his demons but to see if there was still a bridge to rebuild, even if it seemed impossibly broken.

Just like Casey’s leg. Right? The one you broke?

No. No bad thoughts right now. No bad thoughts right now of all times. He was about to drive, he couldn’t have bad thoughts while driving. If he did, he'd end up swerving himself into the side of a building.

He had plenty of time for those later. To sit in his bed, staring at the healed, pattern scars on his forearm while thought after thought after thought told him to add one more, then he can stop. Yeah, he had plenty of time for bad and worse and horrible thoughts later. 

For now, he climbed onto his bike, the familiar vibrations under him offering a brief sense of control. As he rode away, he let the wind clear his mind, but the thought of Casey lingered, like a distant wave that refused to leave.

You shouldn't be thinking about him, he's probably already over it all. It's been six months anyway.

Raph scoffed at himself, although he knew his inner voice was right. There was no way that Casey wasn't already over Raph. I mean, he told Raph right to his face. Wouldn't that mean he was over it already? He assumed so.

He sighed, eyes flickering from side to side as he rode down the streets of New York. He wondered how Casey was doing, genuinely. He wondered how Casey had been doing with his manic episodes. He probably was in a long, depressive one currently. Usually, Raph was there with him through it.

Raph usually stuck by him, staying calm and supportive while keeping him safe. He wondered if Casey's foot had healed enough to run again or if he was still just jogging. Without Raph there, who was helping him now? Was Casey managing okay on his own?

If anything, it’s YOU who’s not managing on your own. Mister I-Threatened-To-Kill-Myself-Over-Month-Old-Pizza.

Shut up, shut up, shut the hell up. Bad thoughts, bad thoughts, bad thoughts. His hand squeezed the handles of the motorcycle. 

He’s better off without you and you know it, you abusive asshole.

Shut up.

You broke his leg. You don’t deserve his trust or his love, or even his presence. Do you really think you’re special?

No, he doesn’t. Just shut up.

You’re broken. 

Shut the fuck up. He gripped the handle tighter.

You’re a freak.

Please stop.

No one could ever love you. Not even Splinter.

Raph didn’t even realize he was heading right for a truck in the middle of the road. His heart hammered, and his swerved away just in time. Before anything happened. He probably went over the speeding limit, just wanting to get away. Go. Run away fast as he can but for some reason, made himself stop. Near an old building.

Casey’s old skating rink. It went bankrupt after he couldn’t play anymore.

Raph just stared at the building. It looked as if it were starting to crumble, moss and leaves growing on it, the paint starting to peel. He had stood outside of this building so many times, waiting for Casey outside.

Seeing the joy in his eyes when Raph surprised him, running up to him and giving him a hug. Well, not before Raph hugged him first and with a little too much force that sent them both to the pavement.

"Raph—Raph, I can’t breathe! You’re squishing me!"  Casey had wheezed out a laugh.

"Not my fault you’re so small!"

" Oh my god I’m going to murder you if you don’t put me down!" Casey squealed, grunting as he tried and tried to get Raph off his stomach.

Raph hummed softly at the memory, pushing the bad thoughts back to his head and being replaced by Casey instead.

His Casey Jones. His boy. His love.

Or, how it was before. The dark-skinned male looked at the skating rink one last time.

It wouldn’t hurt to just peak inside, right?

—

Casey was flabbergasted.

Genuinely.

There in front of him stood the one and only, Raphael Hamato. Leaning against the barrier between the audience and the ice rink.

What the fuck.

Just seconds ago, Casey was drowning in sorrow and on the verge of rushing over to the nearest CVS and buying a huge-ass bottle of sleeping pills. But now? He didn't know what to feel, or what he was feeling, or honestly? How to feel anymore. The easiest way to describe it was probably shock, raw shock. He doubted it showed on his face though; he was probably just staring at Raph with a blank stare.

"Did ya hear me, Jones? I said ya still have some—"

"Killer aim. Yeah, I heard you," Casey squeezed out, gripping his hockey stick a little tighter so he wouldn't start fidgeting.

"…"

"…"

"So…"

"So…?"

"Uh…How's ya mom?" Raph hummed out, hands in the pockets of his hoodie as he took a few steps forward. He was acting too casual for Casey's liking...

"Fine..." Casey mumbled, looking down at his shoes and deciding to give up on the hockey stick and fiddle with his fingers, his eye slightly twitching from the question about his mom.

"Yeah? She treating you well?" Raph raised an eyebrow, obviously skeptical of Casey's response. Casey couldn't understand why, but Raph had some sort of hatred towards her. Anytime he would see her, an immediate strained smile but with furrowed eyebrows. Casey hated it. His mom was amazing, perfect even! Raph just didn't know what it was like, Casey would remind himself sometimes.

"Mhm..."

"Kay..."

"…"

"…"

"Doing well with your episodes?"

"Yeah…"

"Leg?"

“Fine…"

Now that, Raphael was skeptical of. Casey could see it, the slight tilt in his head, the quirked eyebrow. But of course, he didn’t say anything. He slowly slid down to the ground, squatting but just barely with his hands still in his pockets.

There were several periods of silence. I mean, what do you do even say to a person in this situation? What did Casey even want Raph to say? Or would he prefer that Raph say nothing at all? No. Silence was too suffocating. Casey hated quiet, silence. It made his ears ring, his knee bounce, it made him antsy. Because usually with silence, something bad happened.

And something bad happened indeed.

Raph sighed. “Hey, I—“

”Don’t.” Casey cut him off, it sounded more desperate than firm or stern. “Don’t apologize anymore, alright?” He had kept his head turned to the rink, dust and debris settling on the ice. That was all that was left of his old life. An old abandoned skating rink and the boy who took it on accident.

He held Casey’s world in his hands, and he dropped it.

Raph’s brows furrowed, his look now an odd expression. Eyes burning, brows furrowed, fists slightly bawled. “I wasn’t gonna apologize, Jones.”

”Oh yeah?” The Latino said, a bit louder for anyone’s liking as he turned to the other. His ex. Raphael Hamato. The boy who destroyed his world. “What were you gonna say then?”

"...Sitting like that will make your leg worse, Jones."

"Seriously? That's what you were going to say?" Casey scoffed, a slight chuckle leaving with it. He looked down at his leg, then back up at Raph and shrugged. "I also couldn't give a shit if it does anyway."

"You won't be able to play hockey," Raph raised an eyebrow.

"I won't be able to play regardless, Raphael."

Great, more silence. Raph kinda just... hovered. Neither said any words for a solid minute or so, only fidgeting or clicking. Casey took the time to study Raph's appearance. He looked the same, sorta...

His brown skin was still that pretty shade, covered by a thin layer of nervous sweat. The contrast of his green eyes fit along well, though his eyes seemed to be a little... unfocused? Dazed or lifeless, maybe? He wore a lot of red as always. Today, it was a white shirt covered with a red plaid shirt. Casey squinted. Had Raph been working out more? His muscles seemed to have gotten a little bigger—

Woah.

Casey shook his head, mentally slapping himself. What the fuck was that!? Raph wasn't his boyfriend anymore! He couldn't just casually check out his ex who ruined his life. That was a stupid bitch move!

"I go to therapy," Raph hummed, breaking the silence as he swung his arms back and forth.

Casey almost laughed for the first time in months at that. Raph goes to therapy? He almost thought a laugh track would start playing.

"Really?" 

"Yeah."

Casey looked at the ceiling, a slight smirk on his face as he asked the question “Who made you go?” He knew Raph well enough, he’d known him for the past 2 years. He knew Raph wouldn’t step anywhere near a therapist’s office until he was forced or put in there bound and gagged.

”Leo.” Raph answers, tapping his fingers on his knees. “I told my therapist about you.”

Casey turned his head to him. ”Yeah?”

Raph nodded. ”Yeah.”

"What'd you say about me?"

Raph smirked, taking a step forward. "Why do you want to know? Think I talked shit about you, Jones? You know I wouldn't do that to ya." Raph practically purred. Purred.

"But I don't know that."

Raph's smirk immediately dropped at that, realizing that yeah, probably not the right time to flirt with your ex-boyfriend who you treated like a pile of dog-shit even though his life is worse and had a mom who—

"Ah." Raph chuckled awkwardly, fiddling with his fingers. He scrunched his nose slightly, muttering softly under his breath. "Bad thoughts, just shut up.”

Casey didn't miss that, raising an eyebrow and wondering how many times Raph had to have said that since their breakup.

"Yeah..."

Raph sighed, and to Casey's surprise, plopped right down on the bench next to him. Casey looked to his side. What was he supposed to do now? None of his other relationships had ended up like this! Usually, both sides never talked again, going their separate ways. But now? Now Casey had to figure out all this crap by himself. No Mom, Dad, or April since she was too busy to help him, just his broken leg and his loud-ass mouth to get him through this.

Raph looked at Casey, and Casey looked at Raph. It instantly reminded him of the night at the campfire, except this time things weren't as tense but more awkward.

Raph sucked in a breath. It was now or never.

Chapter Text

If you asked Mikey when he knew his big brother Raphael was either suicidal or fucking batshit crazy, he’d smile and tell you that he knew since birth. That Raph always had a “look” in his eyes.

But what he would tell you would be a lie. There would be a specific date that came to mind — June 19th, 2021.

He and his siblings had just come back from the Juneteenth parade, something they had to been going to since Mikey was a baby. A traditional of sorts, and sometimes Splinter would come with them but this time, he had other plans. He gave them both 20 dollars each, told them to stay together and have fun.

Mikey can’t even remember what the argument was about. Despite what he tells people, he has a very exact memory. He can pinpoint and identify things he hasn’t seen since he was an infant, but he couldn’t remember that argument. That’s how he knew it had to have been stupid or he had his headphones in.

When he took them out, all he heard was Donnie mocking Raph, who was driving and kept flexing his hands on the steering wheel. “ ‘Oh, look at me! I’m Raph and everyone just hates me!’ Why don’t you pick something ACTUALLY meaningful to argue about, you crybaby.”

"Dee, stop it.” Leo said firmly, eyebrows furrowed as she tried to calm the starting argument from the backseat. That was Leo for you, she always had an out, a way to calm everyone down. I mean, with a voice like hers and being able to put the right words together — of course she’s a fit for that job.

"Jesus Christ Raph! Not everything is about you! When will you learn that the world doesn't revolve around you!?" Donnie had scoffed, gesturing at the road.

"Shut. Up.” The older male had gritted out, squeezing the steering wheel before letting go and squeezing again. Mikey heard the way Raph’s breathing got shaky, a sign he was trying to calm himself down and failing.

"You act like such a brat!”

"Shut up." Raph gritted out, now he was squeezing the wheel so hard that Mikey thought it might pop. 

Mikey knew things were going too far when tears prickled in Raph’s eyes.

Raph cried probably once in front of his siblings. Mikey remember it, the blood-shot eyes filled with tears as he walked from the bathroom back to his room.

"Dee that's enough-" Leo repeated, her words a little firmer. Her first bawled, it was like getting scolded, someone putting their foot down. But Donnie didn’t listen, he continued, his words getting harsher by the minute.

"If I didn't know better, I would think you were Dad!"

"SHUT UP!"

Everything stopped.

Mikey didn’t remember much after that, but he did remember his older brother mumbling a ‘fuck it.’ and a ’Hope you guys don’t get hurt.’

And he saw his brother in red step on the gas and swerve out of the lanes. And as he gripped the arm hanger thing Mikey still didn’t know the name of, only one thing came to his mind and one thing only.

Holy shit, Raph’s gonna kill himself.

He remembered screaming, but doesn’t pinpoint where it’s from or what the words are. Mikey thinks he doesn’t wanna know; since he’s aware of the things his brothers can say when they’re scared.

He remembered the car feeling like it flipped, but he doesn’t know if it as just the adrenaline of the moment. He did remember one thing, Raph’s eyes. They were the same bloodshot red, looking back at Mikey from the rear view mirror, and said something else. It was soft, and Mikey might’ve not heard it all the way but he thinks Raphael said:

”Close your eyes, Mikey.”

And it all went dark from there.

He must’ve passed out, because when Michealangelo Hamato woke up, the car was turned on its side and near a building. He had to crawl out from the window, grunting softly as he did. There was an evergrowing pain in his hands, and when he looked down at them, they were red and bloody with a few glass shards in them. He heard loud police sirens, that made his ears ring even more.

He looked back at the car, Leo leaned against it with wide eyes and few gashes across her arms and legs. The pretty blue skirt she decided to wear today was now ripped at the ends. Donnie climbed out and sat on top of the turnt car mere seconds later, mouth agape and a nasty cut along his shoulder. He turned to look at Leo and Mikey, and softly and almost in a scared tone spoke.

"What the fuck..."

Mikey agreed, what the fuck. He could barely comprehend what was happening, and it seemed like neither could his siblings. Leo looked around, the shock turning to panic on her face. “Wait,” She began. “Where’s Raph?”

She grunted, pulling herself up and walking around, her boots hitting the pavement. “Raph?” She called out. “Where are you?!”

Of course Mikey looked around too, Raph wasn’t in the car, so he was probably alive. But where was he? Was he gone to finish the job? Did he go home?

Thats when Mikey looked across the street, an ambulance that Raph was sitting the middle of. His face had been bruised, his arms with reopened scars and newer, fresher ones that were being tended to.

Mikey had saw the look in Raph’s eyes. He looked so emotionless yet like he was about to start sobbing at any point in time. His eyes were empty, like a fire that burned out. Raph must’ve called the police on himself, there was a policeman there asking questions and Raph would either nod, shake his head or shrug.

Mikey knows that’s when he knew. That there was something wrong with his older brother. He thinks that’s when everyone knew something was wrong with Raph.

He doesn’t know if they know how to fix it though.

But even if he didn't know it then, he knew now that the same person who had made Raph worse would heal him once more.

—

Donnie knew his brother was suicidal.

I mean, it really wasn't that hard to tell. The signs were pretty out there, but maybe that was just Donnie. The Brains, the smart one, blah blah blah. He saw the signs, he knew the scars that he saw when Raph's sleeve got pulled up weren't from fighting, he noticed when Raph would stare at Mikey's medication or the pain pills for too long, and he obviously noticed how his mental health had gotten ten times worse since his breakup with Casey.

And it seemed his dad did too.

" Show me your arms, Raphael." Splinter had ordered sternly as Donnie stood still out of sight in the hallway. Donnie had just wanted some fucking coffee and he was not in the mood to have to listen to another of his brother and Splinter's Arguments.

"...I'm Fine-"

" I don't care, show me them now." Splinter repeated again with the same amount of authority.

" I told you that I stopped!!" Raph scoffed, the fakest look of confusion Donnie had ever seen on his brother's face.

" Well I don't believe you."

"Well You Should!!" The anger was rising in his voice.

"Show me your arms, Raphael."

Raph stayed still for a minute, before sighing and putting his arms out in front of him. Splinter nodded and took a step forward while Raph looked away from him. Splinter carefully rolled the sleeves up, and even though Donnie was aware Raph had never stopped, his heart still ached slightly at the sight of fresh red marks trailed up and down his brother's arms."

"Raphael.." Splinter said with heavy disappointment. 

“まさにトレーニングからです.” Raphael said firmly and simply, his eyes had hardened at the obvious disappointment in Splinter’s tone and all Donnie could think when Raphael said that was: bullshit.

Of course Raphael would push the Japanese card. He knew Splinter preferred speaking it over English, meaning, he was in a better mood to listen to what the other person had to say. Of course Raphael knew this because he did this trick everytime.

Splinter had tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “彼らは今ですか?” He asked.

Raph nodded. And it would’ve made Donnie believe it himself, the resolve would’ve made you think he was being honest.

But Donnie knew his brother.

And he knew he was spewing lies to Splinter.

" I hope your not lying, Raphael." Splinter sighed, speaking english once more. His eyes held not pity or sadness, but pure scepticalness. 

"I'm not dad, I promise."

Donnie, wanted to scream. He wanted to tell his dad everything he knew, even if it meant Raph getting sent off to live in the psych ward. He felt horrible for not saying something, but he remembered. He remembered the promise he had made to his brother years ago.

" You have to promise me you'll never tell Dad any of my secrets."

" I don't know Raph-"

"Please!" Raph had pleaded, finishing bandaging up his arms. " I need you to promise me, Dee." He looked up at Donnie, his eyes had said more then his words ever could have.

".. I promise."

So reluctantly, Donnie sighed and treaded off back to his room, forgetting about the coffee. He itched to tell his brothers, April, Splinter, anyone really. But He had made a promise to Raph, And promises were sacred.

Besides, Donnie never broke a promise.

—

The thing with Leo, she always preferred NOT to get into arguments. Especially when it was Raph, and especially if he was arguing with Sensei. Raphael had a nasty habit over challenging authority that Leo had tried everything in her power to at least dim down.

She didn’t like arguing or loud noises. Yet, here she was, following after both men as their voices carried every crook and nanny of the house.

“At least Casey doesn’t still treat me like I’m some little kid!” Raph yelled, storming through the house with a thin line of sweat over his skin. They had been going at this for hours now.

“Raphael, he doesn’t care about you at all!” Sensei growled back. “All he cares about is his own satisfaction!” Both Raphael and Leo turned at that comment, Leo just staring in wide-eyed horror that her father would even SUGGEST such a thing while Raph was back to storming off, and Leo was sure there were tears in his eyes.

“I don’t want him near you or your brothers! I don’t even want him in this HOUSE.” Why did they have to yell so much? These things he could easily resolve with Raphael without yelling at him.

“YOU’RE JUST JEALOUS. YOU’RE JEALOUS OF US!” Raph screamed from his doorframe, before slamming it with a “UGH! YOU’RE SUCH A HYPOCRITE.”

Leo winced, letting out a raspy sigh and looking over at her father. She was going to do it, she was going to suggest her idea to him. She was going to suggest it, push it and end this argument once and for all before Mikey and Donnie get nosy and try to come out of their rooms.

"Uhm, Dad..? Maybe next time, instead of yelling at Raph, you could try and talk it out?" Leo said softly, plastering a fake, overbearing smile on her face.

"I don't need parenting advice from my own children, son," Splinter mumbled, obviously still upset over the whole thing.

Ouch. Leo did not need that right now. She was already on the edge of just breaking down and running to Mikey or her own room to comfort herself, sobbing until her throat was dry and she was dehydrated.

She could feel the tears welling in her eyes as her own father misgendered her, even worse because Splinter actively knew Leo was trans. She wanted to scream at him, but all that came out was a cowardly nod.

"Sorry, Sensei..."

As Leo walked away, she found herself passing Raph's door. Curiosity winning, she looked through the crack of her brother's door. He sat on his bed, sobbing while seemingly on the phone with Casey, who could be heard softly comforting Raph through the phone speaker.

Leo's gaze trailed down, and she had to hold in a loud gasp as she noticed several bright and fresh slits running across her brother's arms and legs. A few tears from earlier started to drop from her eyes, now even more saddened by this new discovery.

She wanted nothing more than to run in there, bandage her poor brother up, and comfort him, but it seemed Casey was already completing one of those tasks for her. And for that, Leo felt grateful toward him.

Leo was not very fond of Casey, nowhere near the Splinter level, but still not fond. But this? Leo almost wanted to personally give Casey a big hug and all the pizza in the world for helping her brother. She knew how much Casey meant to Raph, and how much Raph meant to Casey.

They weren't a match made in heaven, but they were something.

Leo bit her lip, her grip on the door frame loosening a bit as she listened in more on the conversation between the two boys.

Maybe Casey wasn't so bad after all.

—

Over The following months since Raph And Casey had seen each other at the abandoned skating rink, Raph spent almost every other day with the other boy.

And he wasn’t exaggerating.

They went from complete radio silence and no-contact to basically being attached to hip every single day. Every Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday, Raph made it his mission to drive Casey to his physical therapy sessions despite NOT being allowed to drive.

He was there at every swimming lesson, at the house usually when his mom was working the night shifts, Raph had just inserted himself back into Casey’s life.

And Casey…wasn’t mad at the change.

It felt like Raphael belonged there, in that place in his life. He enjoyed having someone mindlessly doodle on his crutches and he was slowly not having to use as much anymore. At home? He had to use them, unavoidable. But slowly and surely, he regained his walking ability.

And he and Raph spend more and more time together.

Though, Casey did set some boundaries from the start. He remembered April saying something about it, how the reason that his and Raph’s relationship didn’t and wouldn’t work because they had no boundaries. They were clear and simple ones, but the number one boundary was the most important to the Latino.

1. No trying to get back together.

He personally thought it was affective, and Raph, though clearly saddened at this, slowly accepted it. Change is a slow thing, both Casey Jones and Raphael Hamato learned.

It was hard not treating Casey like that anymore, like they weren’t boyfriends. But, Raph found other ways to express his obvious adoration without overstepping one boundary.

He loved Casey like one of his brothers, maybe even more. Maybe, it was hard. Raph didn’t think he could love anyone else more than he loved his family. He treated Casey like a friend, one his best friends. Raph wasn’t the best when it came to friends sometimes, so this one was kinda difficult. He got the hang of the it though, it was just like being Casey’s boyfriend but without the physical and romantic intimacy of it all.

Lastly, he respected Casey as if they were still together. It was the main thing, the reason he was respecting this boundaries. He still respected Casey and his choices on a deep level, even if sometimes he thought they were unhinged and stupid.

Now, Casey stood at the end of that balance beam, the physical therapist offering to help but Casey refused. He has kept his eyes solely on Raph, as if he were the only thing in the world right now. And for all Casey knew, Raph was.

Raph had held out his hands, both of them, for Casey to grab on since he still didn’t trust his physical therapist. She had hands that reminded him of his mom and he…didn’t like holding them.

Raph’s hands were rough, calloused. Spent with doing most of the heavy chores about the house, chopping wood, etc. Those hands could tear Casey apart if they wanted to, yet, Casey was slowly finding the trust in himself to hold them.

”Don’t let me go.” He says, obviously trying to be stern but it was more of a plea.

”I won’t.” Raphael says. And he means it.

Casey nods shakily, and in a record-breaking time for the boy, makes it to the end of the beam in less than two minutes.

As Casey gets down from the beam, Raph immediately breaks his hold of Casey's hands to wrap his arms around him. Casey blinks, shocked by the random hug, but embraces it seconds later. This was different from the usual Raph hug; usually, they were quick and loose. This hug was long-lasting and firm, and Casey could feel Raph's fingernails slightly dig into his back and a shaky exhale released along with the tension in his body.

Don’t let me go.

That’s what Raph's body language seemed to be saying right now.

"Wanna go to the beach?" Raph mumbled into Casey's shoulder, and the boy chuckled softly at how small Raph seemed compared to him in this moment.

"Sure."

After an agonizingly long walk to the parking lot, added by getting into the car, and an even longer drive, the two found themselves parking at one of the many beaches the city had to offer. Raph got out and attended to Casey, helping him. The two both struggled before managing to get a move on.

"The beach looks pretty today," Casey hummed as the two walked along the beach, right next to each other. Casey had stripped off his shirt and wore only a binder, and Raph could only hope he hadn't been wearing it for more than 8 hours. But Raph did agree; the sky and waves looked pretty in the sunlight. Little kids screamed as they ran past the two, seagulls and birds searched the sand for whatever they were looking for, and the waves calmly splashed as they came towards the two, then retreated.

"Yeah, nice day, huh?"

"It's cool too."

"Mhm."

The two could talk so easily now, unlike at the skate rink. They could talk and rant to each other about almost anything, from Casey's mom to their favorite Broadway musical. It was crazy what a few months of self-recovery and healing could do for them both. Raph knew that therapy had probably helped a lot with that, and although it wasn't fixed, he was trying.

They walked for hours, talking and blabbering to each other as they walked the coast and back again. At some point, Casey had looped their fingers together while Raph was in the middle of ranting about his math teacher, making the boy pause in the middle of his sentence for a minute. He couldn't believe it was normal for them to hold hands again. After so long of being separated, they were connected by not only the hip, but grasp.

Don’t let me go.

Soon, they found themselves at an empty deck near the beach. Casey’s crutches laid beside him as he dangled his feet the water, while the other make preferred to keep his feet up. Casey had looked back at his crutches, feeling his brows furrow.

It’s been 6 months now. 6 months, Raph’s inserted himself into his life and has been helping him with anything he can. Not solely for the benefit of forgiveness, no, Raphael Hamato is not that kind of person. Maybe his brother Mikey is but he isn’t. He wants Casey better, he knows that but…

He thinks he might need more time but there’s that tiny voice in his head, a voice that sounds like a voice of truth that tells him he’ll never forgive Raph and to stop baiting him.

”What’s on your mind?” The brown-skinned male asked, staring into the water.

The Latino turned to him. “What?”

”You’ve got that look on your face. What’s on your mind?” Raph repeats, and oh, damn him with his ability to read the people he loves like a book.

But he knows Raph doesn't like beating around the bush, so he decides to just rip the bandaid off. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to trust you again.” Casey sighs. “I don’t think I can forgive you.”

Raph laughed at that.

He fucking laughed at that.

It was a loud, belly-deep laugh that was so unbelievably Raph in a way. Casey felt his cheeks flush, his brows furrowing. “What’s funny?”

"I know that, Case," Raph smiled softly, locking eyes with Casey. "I know yer never going to forgive me. Hell, I wouldn’t forgive me either. But that didn’t matter; y’know? Your forgiveness would be nice, but all that mattered was that I got to see you and spend time with you."

Oh God, that made Casey want to cry. He smiled back weakly, rubbing circles into Raph’s hand before interlocking them together and giving his hand a tight squeeze.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too."

The two sat together in peaceful silence, staring out at the waves as they did what came naturally to them. Casey bumped shoulders with Raph before resting his head against it, and Raph gave an amused huff. As the sun began to set, the two slowly melted into each other and just enjoyed it while it lasted.

And that’s how it ended, or began. That’s up to you to decide, dear reader.

Just remember:

Don’t let go.