(A/N: JUNE 2018: THIS STORY IS UNDERGOING MASSIVE EDITING, AND WILL BE FINISHED WHEN EDITING IS COMPLETE.
This part is a prologue, but the rest of the story is sort of one big flashback. Like the summary says, Foot!Leo/Raph, which is the only kind of Leo/Raph I can stomach. This was inspired by the lovely SleepingSeeker's Tender Trap series, and Kiraynn's oneshot Aphrodisia on AO3. I suggest you go read both, they're wonderful, as are their authors.
This will be dark, and bloody, and sad, with language and adult situations and discussions, with TONS of Raph torture and angst (though mostly emotional and mental) mentions of abuse, self harm, abandonment, a SMIDGE of incest, and aaaall that good stuff, so this is your chance to back out now if you're not down. This is sort of my first hardcore Slash fic, so I'm nervous. Please please please comment.)
Raphael blamed the Bug.
It was cold, down here in their own, personal hellhole, and dark, and damp, but that was nothing. They'd had worse than a damp floor and a slight chill when they were kids in the sewer. It wasn't necessarily the conditions of the prison that made it awful, it was the fact that he was sharing it with the very people he knew it was his own fault that they were here with him in the first place.
It wouldn't have been so bad if he was alone. At least when his should'a-could'a-would'as came to piss on him, he wouldn't have had witnesses.
He could feel someone's eyes on him now- on his shell, since he couldn't bring himself to face them any longer, after the thorough humiliation he'd just suffered.
Raphael shuddered and pressed his face closer to the cold stone. The scent of Master Splinter's blood was thick and oppressive in the stale air, clinging to his nose and throat and reminding him of what he'd done with every breath. His cuts and gashes had gone numb long ago, but the raging agony of betrayal howled through his every cell.
The glarer was probably Donnie, or maybe it was Splinter. Maybe he was regretting everything, raising three turtles instead of two. Maybe he was regretting Raphael, period, not having the balls to drop the dumb little baby Raph down the first sewer pipe when he had the chance.
He didn't blame the old rat, not really. He didn't blame Donnie or Mikey either. They wouldn't have gotten them into this mess.
"I told you so" didn't even BEGIN to cover this shit.
No, Raphael blamed the Bug, that stupid eavesdropping Bug Donnie planted on a Foot Soldier all those months ago.
If it wasn't for that stupid Bug...
Even now, he couldn't claim responsibility for this, for the annihilation of his everything because of his stupid choices. He'd never been good with responsibility, and now that was horribly obvious. Kinda funny, but not really.
Nope. It wasn't him. It was the damned Bug. It had to be.
If it wasn't for the Bug, they would have never known about him coming to New York. Wouldn't have gone looking for him. Wouldn't have found him.
Wouldn't be here...
None of this would have happened, if not for that damned Bug, and that goddamned name that came out of it.
And that name, which had sounded like the sweetest music to him moments before, now rang with a cadence of death, deception, and misery.