Series Title: Always

Chapter Title: The Unknown

Author: (travelingstorm)

Rating: M, NC17 overall

Word Count (fic portion) Chapter 4: 1403

Warnings: This is a DARK DARK ANGSTY TORTURE AND MORE! Lots of not-so-nice details, including Bishop, turtle-torture, drugs, psychological problems and even more unspeakable acts that will be NOT be labeled for fear of giving the whole plot away. There WILL be a happy ending (eventually) but the road from here to there is going to be long and painful.

Notes: This is an 11 part story, with each section falling under a different theme in LJ's fanfic100 community, character: Michaelangelo. This is chapter five, theme 71: Broken

Additional Notes: I've been traveling internationally (Shanghai to Canada) with my dog, busing around Ontario (Kingston, Toronto, Kitchener, Niagara Falls, Fort Erie etc) and now I'm in New Brunswick. What this means is I'm busy. I do my best to update but sometimes chapters take longer to come out. Feedback is appreciated, but I do not consider 'Update now' and 'you need to do another chapter soon' to be constructive or even flattering. If that's what you plan on leaving as a comment, skip it, all right? All it does is piss me off, and then you'll never see another chapter.

For everyone else who left REAL C&C, thank you very much. This chapter is for you. :)

ooo...000...ooo

Dear Journal:

...I'm not really sure what to write here. Master Splinter gave me this book and told me to write down whatever I wanted; he said it would help me make sense of what I was feeling. I don't know about that. I'm not sure I really want to know exactly what it is I'm feeling, or what I'm supposed to feel.

It's been a week since we were all rescued. Physically...I'm fine. I guess. Nothing is sore anymore (and I mean nothing) but I...damn it.

Okay, if this is gonna work the way Master Splinter says, I need to stop dancing around the issues and just come right out and say what's going through my head. I can start with everyone else though, right? I mean, it's not cheating or wimping out if I eventually get to myself. I just gotta work up to it, figure out what I'm gonna say.

Leo's easiest to talk about. He's been in training like a mad, training thing. If he ain't sleeping, he's training. If he ain't training, he's meditating. If he ain't doing one of those three, then God help us all 'cause he has been in a righteously, pissy mood lately. I know how he feels.

Actually, I really do know how he feels. He feels guilty, like he was supposed to be omniscient and know what Bishop was going to do in advance. No one blames him for our capture, but it doesn't matter 'cause he sure as hell blames himself.

Donnie's doin' one better. I think he...okay, I don't think, I know he's figured out that something ain't kosher between me and...Raphael. No, Raph. Raph. He doesn't know anything concrete – and I ain't about to say anything. He's been watching me, checking up on me a lot, and y'know, it'd almost be endearing except for once in my life, I want to be left alone. Just give me some time to deal...with...

Not yet. Christ. Okay. Splinter. Splinter is good. I like talking about dad. He's not pushing me, for which I am extremely thankful. I already broke down once – I can't do it again. Not yet. I was lucky to get away without spilling my guts once. If it happens again, I know I'll give i—spill the beans. Talk. God, it's not like I don't have experience with that.

April's been hovering a bit. Casey too. The two of them are usually attached at the hip lately, but ever since we got captured and then rescued, they've taken it upon themselves to be the den-mother and den-father of us all. Casey keeps Raphael...Raph, from going topside to bust dragons by challenging him to everything from cards to air hockey to Monopoly, if you can believe it. Who'da thunk Casey was such a shrewd businessman in Monopoly?

Not that I know personally – part of me wanted to join in, but the other part of me...HE was there. Him. Raphael—no, damn it, Raph. RAPH.

God, it's been like this all week. Everyone healing up, things starting to get back to normal for everyone else, except me. I can't. I've tried, I swear, but then I see a flash of red and I freeze up or run and God, I know he's noticed. Everyone has.

Raph's only tried to talk to me once. He came up from behind me and said my name. I cried out and whirled around, 'chucks spinning. I nearly brained him. Scared the hell out of him AND me. Then I ran, and he hasn't tried again since.

Look at me, I'm still dancing around the issues here. Okay, no more hiding. My name is Michelangelo Splinterson, and I was...raped. By my brother. Who was under the influence of god-only-knows what courtesy of Bishop, but that doesn't change the act itself. Now I have to figure out how to deal with this.

Starting with how I feel. It's funny what a week can do, you know? In a week, wounds can heal; a slash mark turns to a scab and falls off in less then ten days. In a week, I can't even feel...well, you know. Or I do, since this is my journal to myself, but anyway. It doesn't hurt, body-wise.

I'm still trying to process what happened, and God, it's hard. No one knows what happened except me and I can't talk to any of them about it. How could I? How could I tell them that Raph...no, that I let Raph overpower me? I mean, I know it wasn't him – it was the drugs in his system. I don't blame him. I don't. I mean it.

Okay, so I know that part I can get over. I mean, there's really nothing to forgive on Raph's part. It's getting easier to say his name the way I always do. Calling him Raphael is just wrong – sounds like I'm blaming him when in reality I'm trying to distance myself, but even I know that doesn't work for very long.

Which is why I need to deal with the other aspect of what happened. The part where I...I...

Okay, I'm seriously trying to write down what happened, what I felt, and my hand keeps shaking. It's like my body is trying to prevent me from writing down the specifics of my betrayal. Yes, my betrayal.

I mean, what the hell else can you call it? My brother was beaten and drugged and then set loose on me. Instead of fighting back, of somehow stopping this, I gave in and let him... I let him rape me.

There, I said it. Christ, my hand's shaking, I can hear my breath, I sound like I've been running or something. My chest hurts. God. Okay. Raph...raped me. Sorta. He did it because I was weak. I mean, I know I was hurt and drugged myself, but I made the conscious decision to stop fighting him, right? And I...

God, it's painful and embarrassing to say this – well, write this. I...it felt good. Real good, once the blinding pain was gone. I did a few lookups on Don's computer to find out what really happened, and what I came away with was that Bishop was right and we really are like humans. Being drugged, I was relaxed which, after the initial pain, meant it was easier for me to feel pl...pleasure. Apparently we have prostates. Who'da thunk it?

So yeah, the site basically told me that any male – even a turtle one, I'm guessing - can o-orgasm when, quote, 'the prostate is properly stimulated', end quote. So maybe I can say that it wasn't me so much as it was my own body that betrayed me, right? That would make it easier for me to accept and start getting over this.

...Except for the small part of me that...God, I wonder if I'll ever feel that again? Will what happened be my only sexual experience? Aside from the incest aspect and the whole kidnap/torture thing, I do remember how good it felt towards the end. And then the guilt rises up inside me, choking me, when I wonder if it's possible to feel that way again...

I'm sick. Bishop made me sick. That's gotta be it. How can I put a positive spin on this? It's not right. God, my head hurts.

And somehow I have to keep all of this from my brothers, Raph especially. I can't even imagine their reactions. Pity, anger, sorrow – whatever. And Raph... he's my protector, ya know? Always has been, pushing out of the way of falling monsters, watching my back, helping me. If I tell him what happened, he'll blame himself and do something stupid - like try to attack Bishop singlehandedly, or leave the lair permanently. Maybe even hurt himself, even though he's not the emo-type. I don't know what he'd do. I don't want to know. And if I have my way, he'll never know.

I don't know what to do. I've never felt so alone before. I'm not used to feeling like this, not seeing a light at the end of my tunnel. I'm broken, you see. My brother broke me, even if he didn't mean to. He broke me and now I don't know who I am anymore.

I hate this.

Mikey

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End

End Notes: The next chapter should come faster then this one. Reviews are always welcome.