So, yes, I'm rewriting this.

I wrote this when I was what, sixteen? Either way, still new to the fanfic thing, and the characters were awful. It wasn't true to the story at all, and I had been on the verge of putting in a freakin' Mary Sue into the story. A MARY SUE.

It had to be stopped, and it had to be bettered.

So here it is, in an attempt to be better.

Enjoy!

Identity Crisis

Raphael's Personal Hell – Day One

The new boy was a sullen glowering creature and the students decided to keep their distance. At least, the ones with more common sense.

He may have been a short bugger, sitting at his designated desk, but still. There was something about him that was extremely… gangstery. The bandana, for instance; it covered his bald head like a cancer patient's, but it was ridiculously obvious that he was no sick weakling. He was heavily muscled, scarily so, like all he'd been doing in his life was go to the gym and dope out on some steroids to boot. Even his neck was thickly corded, flexing as he swallowed, rough fists curling and uncurling as he just sat there and glared at the whiteboard.

A girl with short hair and skin as dark as ebony crossed the room, smiling. He watched her approach, daring her to piss him off, and she took the unspoken dare. Either that or the impressively tall girl was terrible at reading between the lines. "Hi. You're Ralph, right?"

He stared at her and a tic developed near his eye. "Who're you."

She blinked, and smiled apologetically. "Oh, right. Sorry. I'm Davida, Class Captain."

He didn't look impressed at all. "…And?"

She frowned back at him before explaining. "I'm going to be showing you around and stuff, help you with the timetable and things. I thought I should get to know you, even a little."

His snort was derision incarnate. "I don't need a babysitter."

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Wow, you're rude."

He blinked, and a smile curled the corner of his lip. "And you're a-"

Davida didn't find out what she was, because the bell rang shrilly and made him flinch. For a second there he looked genuinely worried, but the scowl was back tenfold. He seemed to hunch in on himself as the rest of the students rolled into the classroom, fists clenching tight enough to grow white, to shake.

Davida cautiously backed away, instinctively knowing that in front of her was an animal that'd been left in a cage far too small for it.

Mr Simpson sought the new boy out, and shouted. "Raphael Jones, please come to the front. You need to be introduced."

… … … … …

RL-E1: May 27th

I'm making a preliminary note here: I'm glad that Raphael, for once, was level-headed enough to come to me. If it had been Leo he probably would've waited a week or two before coming to me, and Mikey? I don't even want to think about it; he can be so unpredictable when it comes to asking for medical attention. Sometimes he'll come in a heartbeat and other times he doesn't come in until someone notices and forces him into the lab.

Anyway he's been having pains in his extremities for the past two days. Apparently, the pains are strong in his hands and feet especially. He winces when I touch them, and that says a lot. There are strange protrusions at the base of his toes, sort of like blisters but they were on top of his feet, so clearly blisters (as nice as it would have been for a simple answer) are a no.

I admit I'm puzzled. There's no break in the skin, no obvious fracturing in the bone, nothing indicating that anything was wrong. I don't remember him getting injured by blunt force, or from a burn, so that had nothing to do with this either. I gave him some painkillers, and took some of his blood. Currently running tests. Could it be an infection? Or a virus? A contagious virus? Tempted as I am to quarantine him for the next twenty-four hours, I settled for asking him to take it easy and not go out with Casey for a few days, to see what's up.

He grudgingly agreed (thank shell) and went off to play video games with Mikey. Whenever he has to button-mash, I noticed that he clenched his jaw.

Edit: Not a virus, contagious or otherwise. The blood-tests are clean, nobody has had similar symptoms (yet). Scanning for infections, though that seems increasingly unlikely.

RL-E2: May 29th

He dropped his sai in practice. The pain's worse, and he can't block a blow from me.

This is bad.

Practice was cancelled, and I checked out his feet and hands again. Caught out, he limped to my lab, and looked really relieved at sitting down.

Apparently it's in his very bones. Symptoms as described by him: dull throb in his marrows, stiff joints in his fingers, mobility issue in both sets of limbs. No irritation or itch, thank goodness, small the blessing may be. His feet refuse to respond like he wants them to; standing isn't so bad, as long as he doesn't have to walk. It's his toes. I check them again.

From my observations the protrusions on his feet are bigger. I measured just under one and a half inches each in diameter. There are three of them. I should check up on them every few days, to see if they get bigger. Though I really hope they don't.

There were rice-sized lumps on his upper arms, scattered there like a rash. He hadn't noticed it till I pointed it out, and I wish I hadn't because now he won't stop touching them.

I asked him if he needed more painkillers, and he refused them in case one of us got injured on patrol. I didn't have the heart to tell him that there would be no patrol, not till he got better.

I left that to Master Splinter.

RL-E3: May 30th

There are far too many diseases to research.

I mean, Wikipedia is giving me a ridiculous list of skin diseases (oh, I'm sorry, cutaneous conditions, actually) that have similar symptoms to Raphael's. Seriously, the list is far too extensive for one sitting, and depressing all the while. I'm a mechanic, an engineer, not a fully-fledged mutant turtle doctor-veterinarian. I keep having to open new tabs to research the terms explaining the conditions I'm researching and since any self-respecting researcher would check up on other sources to cross-reference findings (never mind that Wikipedia can be edited by the next Dan, Dick or Don… hmm, not exactly the best set of alliterative names, but the point still stands), it just takes too long.

I wish I could just rule it out as dermatitis, but usually we don't have the luxury of simple answers.

As tempted as I am to cross out all conditions caused by viruses or infections, since his blood test was clean, I have to admit to myself that my machines aren't perfect, and more importantly, not specialized enough for the screening that might be in order to diagnose my brother.

I have, however, worked out what can't affect us.

It's not eczema; too localised. No pigment change in skin, so those diseases are ruled out too. It can't be acneiform eruptions. Turtles don't get acne, and even if we did we should've already gotten them when we hit thirteen. Just, no. Even by some terrible chance that this was what was bothering Raph, it's not leaving the Lab. The embarrassment would kill us.

Anyway, autoinflammatory syndrome looks like the best and worst bet. Best because it accounts for all symptoms (to an extent – I need to check if Raphael is working up a fever), but worst because it's genetic. How in the realm of all things good am I supposed to help my brother if it's a genetic condition? This possibility is seriously making me wish that it's something irritatingly mundane as an allergic reaction, not to mention it would make a lot of sense. It would explain his feet, which goes into contact with god-knows-what, his hands which come in contact with lots of disgusting Purple Dragon faces (seriously I doubt any of them wash themselves) and as for the arms, well, we roll in a lot of messy places. In fact w

Donatello stopped typing, his throat suddenly dry.

He opened up a file titled BE8ra and scrolled to his latest entry, checking his personal status report for injuries and collected goods and…

He called Leatherhead.

RL-E4: June 2nd

He's not getting any better. In fact, he's getting far, far worse. He can't stand because of the pain. The rashes on his arms have grown into hives of warts, and though they're not causing him any pain it's grossing us all out. He's running a fever, and he can't keep any food of his shell are falling off.

Pieces of his shell are falling off. Yeah, writing it down the second time is not helping at all.

It's not in chunks, which I suppose is a blessing. More like in flakes. Still not helping.

I hope the test that Leatherhead and I conducted shows results.

... ... ... ... ...

"NO! No damn it nonoNO!"

There was a crash from the lab area of the water-treatment plant, making Michelangelo flinch and Splinter tense up warily. Donatello hadn't been sleeping well these last few days, trying to figure out and solve what was happening with Raphael.

"Donatello please…"

Another violent crash and bang as Leatherhead tried to supplicate the turtle into calming down, but whatever the large reptile had brought it hadn't been good news. Mikey shivered, the roars of anguish from his brother reminding him of the time Bishop's mutagen had turned Donnie into a leg-eating snapper-turtle mega-monster.

He took the super thin egg-drop soup to Raph, who was wheezing on the couch. He'd been diagnosed as not contagious, at least, so they'd put him there rather than his room, to watch him and keep him company. He only ever used his room to sleep and keep his stuff in; it was more of a storage than anything, so Raphael hadn't objected. Not to mention a hammock did not a good sick-bed make.

Leonardo was swapping the cloth on Raph's forehead when Mikey came by, placing the tray of soup on the couch-side table. "Hey Raphie-boy, how's it shellin'?"

"You've got to think of better ways to say hi, lame brain," Raph growled, "Seriously. It's annoying."

"Hey, it takes time to think of genius." Michelangelo placed a hand over where he figured his heart would be, sighing dramatically. "Saying hi to you, like, three times a day for a week really ate through my bank of witty greetings, bro."

"Some bank. You sure it ain't a box? A cigarette pack, even."

The blue-banded turtle rolled his eyes as he placed the cool cloth back onto Raph's forehead, easing the lines around his brother's eyes. "It's good to know you're feeling healthy enough to mock Mikey, but shouldn't you be saving your strength?"

Raph grunted, and wheezed. Leo was turned halfway towards leaving when he replied, "What's up with Donnie?"

The addressed turtle winced. "I don't… I don't know. Leatherhead came around, and then…"

Raphael breathed a little more, sounding grim. "That ain't good."

Leo swallowed and agreed as Donatello approached, followed by Splinter and Leatherhead. "No. No, it isn't."

The Smart One was looking as pale as any of them ever got, shaking and looking bloody wretched. Splinter's hand was on his shoulder, as if to centre him in his merciless misery, and Don breathed deeply, raggedly.

"Tell it to me straight, Donnie," Raph grunted after a long pause, sweeping the cloth from his head, "I'm dyin', ain't I."

Donatello's teeth chattered, his expression screwed up in desperate helplessness. "I wish it were that simple, but it's not. It's… its worse. You're falling apart on a molecular level. Micro-molecular level. Your very DNA is crumbling."

… … … … …

Being out in broad daylight, in a crowd amongst humans, (human teenagers, holy shell they were loud and annoying) trapped inside a building far away from the closest shade, tall building, fire-escape and manhole, was making Raphael's blood sing death-metal throes of agony.

Basically, he didn't like it. At all.

For one, these bozos had no sense of personal space. Going through the corridor had been like swimming through a storm-drain full of trash against the current; lots of shoving, being shoved against, and unable to complain about it since you were too busy trying to breathe. Having a ceiling so low over his head reminded him of their early childhood home in the worst way possible; death-trap, cage, isolation, suppression, alienation … the bright lights added a sense of being monitored on top of that.

Oh yeah, he really hated this.

He glanced out the window, wishing he could see even a glimpse of his brothers in the trees or something, but the sports field outside was glaringly bare, without any shade for ninjas like them to hide in. It had been a small hope, a stupid hope, but still it made him grit his teeth and suppress the urge to growl. He had to be quiet, unnoticed, till his brothers could find him a way out of this.

He opened Casey's old pencil-case and found a pair of ridiculously thin reading glasses in a see-through plastic sleeve.

Okay that was weird. Even weirder, there was a scrawled post-it on it that had the words 'WEAR ME', so, trusting in his brothers Raph did as instructed. Even if it did make him feel completely stupid.

He suddenly felt like he was in a Matrix movie or something.

Raphael blinked, startled by the sudden circles and diagrams that fluttered over the glass, and winced when a square flashed in front of his right eye and an all too familiar face grinned at him.

"This is the Turtle Hole Info Line, for reptiles stuck in Wonderland and School. How may we be of service?"

Raph couldn't help but chuckle in immense relief. "You dolt."

"Ow!" Michelangelo on screen got bapped on the head by Leonardo and was swept aside by Don, and judging by the speed he'd been sitting on the brainiac's swivel-chair. There was a crash and another cry of pain.

"About time," Donatello grinned, settling on another seat, "Okay, first off, don't talk. The glasses have a mic, but you're obviously in a public space so don't talk. Tap the glasses instead, like you're adjusting it or something."

Raphael obliged, smirking. He wished he could thank them for giving Mikey what he deserved.

"Sorry we couldn't come to see you in person." Leo said over Don's shoulder, "We tried. Even Master Splinter agreed it was a good idea, but even with disguises…"

Raph turned towards the window, seeing the field again. He nodded, slowly.

"Raph. Where the arm of the glasses bend, where the screw is." Don indicated almost urgently with his hand, and Raph quizzically fumbled with his new Bond toy, and found it. "Found it? Turn it."

He did so, and the screen on the left eye did a dizzying impression of google-maps on pedestrian mode, zooming in on the field and the street beyond it. The hothead growled, wincing and blinking, turning his head left and right as instructed by Don.

A truck/van door slammed open across the road and two of his brothers were waving from the entrance, being seen be damned. His father was there too, though he was being more discreet by wearing a hoodie. Then the techni-savvy one pulled the other two out of sight, displayed a firm I-believe-in-you pair of the thumbs up, closed the door and drove away.

There was mangled commentary the whole way through, making Raph laugh outright.

"Mind if you tell us what's so funny," Mr Simpson frowned, "Jones?"

Raph took off the glasses and shrugged. "Thought I saw a couple of guys getting run over by a car. Was just an old man's wheelchair."

"Did you just call the battle-shell a wheelchair?" came a muffled voice from the glasses.

The lone brother managed the rest of the morning class routine with a smile on his face.

Then that Davida girl had to come back. "So, are you planning to join a club? Want to join mine?"

Raphael felt his smile drop in a sigh, and he shrugged. "What club."

She grinned as if she'd literally taken it off his face, clearly relieved that he was being more accommodating and generally less rude. "SNAP. School news agency program. I know the name's a bit forced, but we wanted an acronym that was also a word, you know?"

"…You're a reporter?"

"Trying to be, yeah. Interested in joining?"

Raphael couldn't believe it. The first person that talks to him and of course it has to be a stinking reporter, types of humans they avoided only a little less than geneticists/biologists, grudge-bearing ninjas and invading aliens.

"I'd rather stab a Foot," Raph growled, "Repeatedly."

Like? Dislike? I know the turtle turning human thing has been done too many times, but yeah. Still would like to explore.

See you next chapter!

S.S.