"a man that studieth revenge keeps his own wounds green, which otherwise would heal, and do well."
___________

The night gets later, and Raphael gets hungrier.

He doesn't realize how empty his stomach is until it lets out an embarrassingly loud rumble that he's sure all of New York could hear. The turtle huffs. When was the last time he ate? Not since before he left home—he's been a bit too preoccupied to think about food since then. Usually he'd rely on Leonardo's homemade ramen or Michelangelo's very hit-or-miss cooking for a meal, but of course those are no longer options. Food is his responsibility now.

He peers over at Scarlet, who sits against a pile of crates a few feet away, fiddling with her pocket knife with her unbandaged hand. Her eyes flit back and forth every now and then, as if scanning for some invisible threat that might pop out at her if she doesn't watch for it.

He clears his throat and she startles, her attention snapping to him. He almost laughs at how squirrelly she is. "I'm going out."

Her expression falters. "You're leaving?" she blurts, and Raphael doesn't miss the way her voice rises with panic.

"Just to find food. I'll be back."

The girl's face remains clouded with worry and Raphael sighs. He's deduced pretty quickly that she doesn't like to be alone. She's starting to remind him of a puppy, tiny and clingy and kind of pathetic. Still, the last thing he wants or needs is some little kid slowing him down.

"Look, there's no need to freak out," he huffs, placing a hand on his hip. "I won't be out long, and no one should find you while I'm gone. Just sit tight."

Scarlet eyes him for a few moments. She nods finally, and it's slow and hesitant, but it's all the approval he needs. The red-masked turtle moves. He makes his way to the warehouse's upper level, where he knows there's an exit to the roof, something he'd discovered when he first brought Scarlet back. He can feel the little girl's gaze on him the whole time, and it doesn't leave until he reaches the rooftop and disappears into the night.

----------

It feels good to be out in the open again.

Raphael is quick to realize that as he dashes across the rooftops. After a day of being cooped up in that dank old warehouse, the fresh air and open space of the city are incredibly welcome. The wind rushes against his skin and through his mask tails and a smile stretches across his face. This is more like it.

His stomach rumbles again and he grunts, trying to ignore the hunger pains that are starting to gnaw at his gut. What is there for a turtle to eat out here? It's not like he can just waltz into a restaurant and order takeout. Well, maybe Murakami's, but that's probably not the best idea. He knows his brothers like to frequent the place, and he'd rather not have the kind old noodle chef tell them he's been by there.

No, Raphael, he tells himself. Out of sight, out of mind, remember?

Unfortunately, that leaves his other options quite limited. The turtle racks his brain, trying to think of something else. He runs and contemplates for a while longer before the sound of a motor reaches his ears. He pauses his rooftop run and peers over the edge of the building he's standing on. In the empty street below, the pizza delivery boy zips by on his little red scooter, a small mountain of pizza boxes stacked in the back of it. Raphael recognizes him as the same guy he and his brothers have often encountered.

His lips curl into a smirk. Jackpot.

He follows his target from the rooftops, soundless and unseen, the power of his empty stomach propelling him forward. After a while, the pizza guy parks at a corner near an alleyway and gets up to make his next delivery. The moment his scooter is unattended, Raphael makes his move. He steals down the nearest fire escape into the shadow of the alleyway, slips out from the shadows, and snatches two pizza boxes from the basket. He ducks back around the corner in a split second. The delicious aroma of cheese and sauce greets his nose and he inhales it hungrily, his mouth watering.

"Too easy," he murmurs with a surge of satisfaction. 

He examines the boxes—he's picked up two large pizzas, from the look of it. Excellent, he thinks. If he and Scarlet can ration it properly, it'll be enough to last them both at least a week or so. Back around the corner, he hears the motor of the pizza boy's scooter again, growing fainter and fainter as he drives off.

"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in."

A low, gravelly voice reaches his ears, coming from directly behind him. Raphael goes rigid. He drops the pizza boxes and spins around, sais raised. A pair of animalistic green eyes stare at him from the shadows of the alleyway.

No, he thinks, his grip on his weapons tightening. It can't be.

Something moves. A monstrous, spiky figure emerges from the darkness, looming over him with a glowering face. Raphael sucks in a breath. It's barely been a month since they last saw each other, maybe a month and a half at the longest. He didn't think they'd cross paths again so soon.

"Spike?"  He pauses to correct himself. "Er–Slash?"

"Didn't think I'd catch you on this side of town, Raphael." The hulking tortoise rasps. "Hmm, what's wrong with this picture?" He taps his chin, looking thoughtful. "Oh, I know. Your brothers aren't here. What happened, you get tired of them?"

Raphael swallows, not wanting to tell him he's spot-on. He forces himself to remain stone-faced. "I work solo now."

Slash tosses his head back and laughs, a husky sound from deep in his throat. "Isn't that rich. I told you about them, Raphael. I told you you were better off without them, that they only held you back, but you didn't listen. What was it you said? You'd rather be like them than me anyday?" Another laugh rumbles through his body. "Look where that got you."

Raphael grits his teeth. He may not be speaking to his brothers anymore, but he'll never forget how Slash had beaten them all within an inch of their lives the last time they encountered one another. To this day, he's glad he never teamed up with him. He's not sure if he'd be alive right now if he had.

"Whatever," he snaps. "What are you even doing out here?"

"These streets are my home now. I've been on my own since the last time we saw each other. Surviving, thinking, watching..." Slash's eyes bore straight into his. "It's been lonely without someone by my side, you know. If only you hadn't turned your back on me."

"Aww. Want me to play my violin for you?"

Slash's growl in response is that of a feral animal's. "You could've come with me. We could've been something great together, you and I. Especially now that you've shed all that dead weight."

"If you think for a second that I'd reconsider joining you—"

His former pet sneers. "No, Raphael, I wouldn't expect you to. You're too good for the likes of me, remember?"

"Then what do you want?"

"Right now, nothing. You wandered onto my turf, just thought I'd say hello." Slash's beady eyes narrow. "But since you're here, might as well deliver a message."

The turtle tenses as he leans in close, his breath unpleasantly hot on his face. "Know this, Raphael: one of these days, I'm going to make you wish that you'd never betrayed me."

Raphael bristles. His sais are raised in an instant, his teeth bared. "If it's a fight you want..."

Slash chuckles, his broad shoulders bouncing slightly. "I don't want to fight you. Not tonight. Just watch your back from now on...you might regret it if you don't."

"Your threats don't scare me."

"Oh, this isn't a threat, Raphael." Slash's face distorts into a cruel smile. "It's a promise."

Okay, that's it.

The red-masked warrior feels his entire body light with rage. He won't stand here and take this, not from a psycho who wants to live out some sick revenge fantasy against him. He roars and lunges at Slash, sais raised and glinting in the moonlight. He's met with a solid punch in the face by one of the tortoise's enormous fists, powerful enough to send him flying into the alley wall. He gasps, the wind knocked from his body as his mouth floods with the taste of blood. His body slumps against the wall and he can only lay there, fighting to catch his breath and steady his spinning head. It takes a few moments before he groans and manages to pull himself to his knees, emerald gaze snapping to and fro.

Slash is gone.

The turtle grunts and wobbles to his feet. His face is sore from where his opponent had hit him, and as he clutches at his aching jaw and swelling lip, his hand comes back with a few red stains.

What the heck was that?

He huffs and silently curses himself for letting his former pet get away. Not a threat, but a promise. The words echo in his head and Raphael growls, his blood still boiling. If he ever catches him again...

Never mind that now, he thinks. He's weakened, hungry, and he's got company back at the warehouse. His jaw still buzzing, he stoops to pick up the pizza boxes and hurries back toward his new home.

-----------

The sun begins to peek over the horizon by the time Raphael makes it back. His lip has almost stopped bleeding by then and the pizza is barely warm, but he could quite honestly care less. An empty space awaits him when he gets back inside and reaches the bottom level of the warehouse. There's no sign of his little roommate.

"Kid?" He calls.

He looks around, searching for any sign of a long brunette braid or white top, but he sees nothing. He almost thinks she's not there until she emerges from her hiding place between two crates.

"You...you're back," she manages, surprise evident in her tone. She doesn't look like she's rested at all since he left, her eyes tired and surrounded by dark circles.

"Told you I would be." He sits down on a crate, sets the boxes down, and flips one of them open, letting the aroma of sauce and cheese fill the room. "Hungry?"

She shies away. "Thanks, but I have my own food."

"No offense, but it doesn't seem like you've got much. Come on, just take a slice or two."

She hesitates, and Raphael fights the urge to roll his eyes into space. Why is it so hard for her to trust him? He's made it clear enough he doesn't want to hurt her, but she's so skittish and hesitant to listen, he might as well be talking to a wall.

"For the love of shell, kid, would you just eat? If not for your sake, for mine. I've had a frustrating enough night as it is."

Scarlet flinches, taken aback by the sharpness in his tone, but finally wanders forward. It's then that she notices his bloodied lip and bruising cheek. "Oh...you're hurt."

"I'll be fine. Don't worry."

Her lips purse, but she says nothing more, kneeling to grab a slice of pizza and taking a bite. The moment her teeth sink in, her entire face brightens like a lightbulb, her eyes growing huge.

"Whoa. This is...amazing." She gazes cautiously at the box, then up at him with a sheepish expression. "Can I...?"

He does roll his eyes this time. "Just save me some."

She obliges, digging in with a hunger he's only ever seen in Michelangelo after a particularly long patrol. "You've got a big appetite for such a little girl," he observes.

"I was hungrier than I thought I was," she says with a shrug. She goes in for another bite before addressing him through a mouthful of cheese. "You said you had a frustrating night. What happened out there?"

Raphael grits his teeth. He doesn't look at her, opting to lean down and grab a slice of pizza for himself. "Nothing important."

She looks like she wants to ask more, but doesn't, returning to her food. Raphael appreciates that much about her: she's wise enough to know when to stop talking, unlike certain brothers of his. Slash's vengeful eyes flash in his mind and he grunts, trying to distract himself from it with the taste of pizza. It's barely warm and his face hurts as he chews, but he's too hungry to care.

They eat the rest of their meal in silence, the only sound that of their quiet chewing.