Outside of the small apartment a storm controlled the night. Thunder Clapped and demanded the city’s attention. But inside, the room was still. A uniquely different storm was brewing. He was having those old familiar thoughts again, but tonight with the help of a few beers, he had decided to share some of them with his friend.
 
“The day my brother died…I knew we had lost the war…” Raph began his thought. It wasn’t the first time he had decided to open up, and despite his hopes, he knew it probably wouldn’t be the last. “But… I’m still fightin-” He let out with a shaky breathy voice.
 
“-Raph” Casey had interrupted, but his input was quickly overpowered.
 
“I. KNOW. WE. LOST!” Raphael bellowed. He wasn’t looking at Casey. That was how it worked. Raph would open up on one condition: nobody was gonna look at him in his time of weakness, and he wasn’t gonna have to look at anybody either.
“So why” He followed up in a low tremble “…am I still fighting…?” The flood gates had been opened, and now his anger was beginning to poor out. Turning his low voice, into a raspy shout. “Jus’ what the FUCK am I even- FUCKING FIGHTIN FOR!?”
 
A loud clap of thunder flew through the building as he shouted, followed by a chorus of rumbles from the distance. The thunder’s timing was nothing short of a miracle. Masking what would normally be his loud shouting. Loud enough to disturb the neighbors and pull onlookers attention from the street. He was back in Casey’s apartment. Slumped between Casey and the torn edge of their faded, stained, and utterly disheveled couch. He downed his fourth bottle, then tossed it to “the corner” where it clanked into its place in the ongoing pile. He slumped back into position resting his elbow on the edge of the sofa, and opening his hand to hold his head up by the chin
He averted his attention to the room; the power had gone out months ago so there was no television to hold his gaze. His eyes desperately searched for a distraction that would not be found. Anything… anything at all to keep him from looking at it… His eyes followed the crease of the faded yellow wallpaper, sliding along each crack in the coloring, to the exposed drywall underneath.
 
“…maybe it’s pride…?” He began again. His voice little more than a deep scratchy whisper. His eyes jumped from one crack to another, until they gracefully landed on the windowsill- NO! he thought. He took a deep inhale of a lingering secondhand smoke, permanently suspended in place. Baked into the apartment itself. His eyes quickly shot to the carpet, where they began to crawl along the noticeable tracks. Years of walking in the old routes, going about their daily motions. The carpet wore its memories as deep clumps of matted material, that formed followable foot-trails splayed across its surface. The deepest being from the couch, to the refrigerator.
 
“Is it vengeance…?”. A coldness touched his right shoulder, and with his left hand he reached over to grab the politely offered 5th round. He didn’t thank Casey… mostly because he didn’t need to anymore. Casey knew he was appreciative of the offer. If he wasn’t, then he would have gotten his own beer. That’s how it was between them, now more than ever. In the past few years Casey, and April had been looking over Raph. Recognizing his mannerisms were second nature to them now. Another batch of rumbling from the North, and he continued his thought.
 
“…maybe its jus’ ignorance.” He trailed with a breathy sarcastic laugh to accentuate his words. He snorted “Yeah, that’s probably what he would say… I’m jus’ bein’ stupid…an’ letting my emotions control me…”
 
He prepped the beer on the sofa, perching the bottlecaps lip over the exposed wooden end of the armrest. With a steady force he slammed the top of the fresh beer, and simultaneously pulled down on the bottle. The cap popped off its place half bent out of shape from its forceful warping. The freshly disturbed carbs rushed to the top and began to spill over before being hastily caught in Raph’s mouth.
 
“…You gonna say something?” he groggled out, still swallowing his drink. He lowered the bottle from his lips and proceeded to wipe them with the back of his hand.
 
“I-“ Was all Casey managed to get out before being cut off for the second time.
 
“Actually, I prefer the silence, ‘m sorry I asked…” Raph finished with a steady rumbling voice. Much like the rumbling outside. It was a massive dick move considering he had prompted Casey to speak, but he was honestly not ready to confront whatever Casey had to say.  His eyes reached the end of the faintest carpet trail, and followed the wall up its length until he was looking out into the night, and its rain… It was pointless… He was looking at it again. That stupid, Broken window. A silence held in the air. Casey waited patiently for Raph to take a few more relaxing sips of his beverage.
Casey knew Raph like he knew hockey. In fact, he thought, Raph was like a hockey team, and built like one to! Just like a hokey team, each defense could be broken with the right approach. He waited for Raph to do what he always does. Look at it… He began in a soft tone, well as soft as he could manage with his scruffy accent. “…I think, people like us… ain’t fightin for nothin’, ‘cept the need to keep moving.”
Raph lifted his chin from his palm where it had been residing. Pulled from what he pretended to be deep thought. The silence was broken again by Casey
“…jus’ ain’t nothin’ left to do… ‘cept KEEP fightin’. Casey continued on his soft tone. “Maybe thas’ why this world is hell... If you asked me what I fought for a couple or so years ago, I’d tell ya ‘my name is Casey FUCKING Jones, and I fight for my family…” His voice cracked and he proceeded to finish his beer and lift his legs off the stool, where they had been resting, before continuing. “…but what the fuck is there left to fight?” he said with a desperate tone. “Purple dragons ain’t shit nowadays, and ya can’t much “protect” the innocent… the innocent died years ago when the shredder took over, and fightin’ him is like fightin’ gravity” he finished his bottle and tossed it to “the corner” where it broke on the wall before clambering into the pile. He resided himself to rest his elbows on his thighs, and hold his head down. “…I guess… people like you an’ me… We fight because we ain’t got anythin’ else to do BUT fight…” He finished and lifted his head to gaze back at the peeling wallpaper in front of him. The smallest pools had formed in the corners of his eyes. His mind was alive now. ‘How many people’ he thought to himself ‘How many had he killed at this point? Just to keep surviving.’
 
Raph leaned over and allowed his hand to dwarf Casey’s and deliver a firm squeeze. Now it was his turn to begin with a soft tone. “Your still Casey fuckin Jones… and your still our family…and… I mean, were still fightin’ for each other, right?” He felt pathetic. ‘not even a full sentence and here come the fucking water works’ Raph thought to himself. ‘Well what the fuck was the point in holdin ‘em back anymore’ was his next thought before allowing his head to rest on Casey’s shoulder. In the weeks after Leo’s death he’d practically spent every minute of his day curled into a ball in the corner of Casey and April’s apartment. He couldn’t go back to the lair… to that place… where so many nights he’d spent with Leo, and his brothers. The thought of going back there… as if nothing happened. It was too much. Three whole years later, he still couldn’t bring himself to return for a full day.
All he could do was bring himself to look over his shoulder at the window… That window… The last time he could remember seeing Leonardo alive. His final words “No, Raph wait… he’s…back… The Shredder” after being violently thrown through the window by the shredders elite. Every time he thought of the memory, he felt his hands tense with anger. A trophy… that’s what Leo was to the shredder. If the shredder had just wanted Leo dead, he would have cut him into pieces and left him on some rooftop. But instead he had his elite haul Leo’s barley conscious body halfway across Manhattan to personally deliver his handywork to his enemies. A trophy… and a promise of what was to come.
 
“OW- OW- RAPH FUCK’S SAKE! FUCKING STOP!!” Casey had started shouting while pulling on his arm to escape. Raph’s mind came crashing back down to earth and landed on his body like a ton of bricks, he immediately felt exhausted. But Casey’s shouting had caught his attention. He could feel Casey’s hand about to be crushed under his. With a start he immediately let go “Oh- shit. Sorry I-“ But Casey cut him off this time “Don’t apologize bro… I get it.” Raph let out a deep sigh before looking back at the window “…So, ya noticed…” he said plainly.
“Uh ‘course I noticed the giant mutant sittin’ next to me staring at the window, getting visibly, AND PHYSICALLY! Pissed…” Casey finished while rubbing his hands together. “…Sorry” Raph repeated. Only to have Casey interrupt him again “I said don’t apologize… I know we’ve talked ‘bout it, an’ you hate talkin ‘bout it. Hell, I do to, but you ain’t the only one that looks at that window that way.”
 
With a powerful sigh, Raph was reminded of his brothers. He had never truly gone back, but he had still tried to visit. “How long’s it been…?” he openly wondered. Casey was trying to remember when there was a disturbance at the door, followed by a faint clicking sound. April was home, her stealth had improved tremendously. Raph used to be able to hear her coming down the hallway before even reaching the apartment… Then again, he thought, he could feel himself crossing the line of tipsy to drunk. ‘...nah fuck it, April’s improved.’ Ain’t no booze gonna convince him otherwise. He would complement her on her progress… just as soon as he could convince himself opening his mouth wouldn’t make another stain on the couch. He could feel a nausea coming on. An unforgiving combination of opening his emotions and drinking too fast.