Part 3: And he can always feel the sun.

"I couldn't believe it," he said quietly. "I half thought it was some kind of joke. I guess....I was sort of hoping that when I got here, nothing would be wrong." He gulped. "I just wanted Emily to be lying to me." He closed his eyes, but couldn't stop the tears from leaking out. Alex put an arm around Don's shoulder. "I want to see."

Alex looked concerned. "Are you sure?" he asked. "It's not a pretty sight, to say the least."

"I know. But I think I need to." He didn't say what he was really thinking; that seeing the bodies was the only way he could really accept that his friends were dead. Alex led him through the rubble, stopping beside the first body he came to. He pulled back the blanket that had been laid over it, revealing Jubilee...or what was left of her. Don went pale and blanched. He had to turn his back so that he didn't throw up.

He rocked lightly back and forth on his heels, trying not to get sick. Alex covered up the gruesome corpse. "My God," whispered Don. "Who would do this to them?" It was one of those silly rhetorical questions you asked when there was nothing appropriate to say, and Alex just shook his head in reply. "Are they all here?"

"No," Alex said. "They can't find Gambit or Wolverine."

Don's heart beat faster. "Do you think they might have escaped?"

Alex looked away, and when he turned back to Donny, his eyes were watering. "Honestly? No, I don't think anything could've survived this." Don bowed his head. How could he deal with this? How could he survive without them? They were his friends, his family.....He had never imagined that it would end in this way. The cruel irony struck at him: in years of dangerous, suicidal missions, the X-men had seldom lost one of their own. But when it came down to it, they were murdered in their own home, seemingly helpless against whatever danger they had faced. Why? Why does it have to be this way?

*-----*-----*

Mike, Leo, and Splinter were all in April's apartment. They had chosen it over Mike's as a place to hang out....the chaos in Mike's place was hardly something to dwell on when you were trying to relax. They were all talking and laughing...reminiscing and telling all their adventures all over again. There was a knock at the door.

All three grew still. Splinter motioned to Leo to go to the door. On silent feet, he crept over and checked the peephole. Relaxing, he opened the door to let in Mark. Mark was a black-haired, green-eyed college kid with a pierced ear and a crew cut. His wide eyes showed an innocense that was not recognized by anyone who knew him well. He was an ex-gangster and former hit man for a powerful American drug lord. Mark had left his murderous habits behind, but he still did pot, and he still loved to bust heads....Only now, he was fighting to rid the city of gangsters, not the other way around. (Splinter had often worried that Raph might have picked up some bad habits from Mark, such as being addicted to pot. But Raph had denied this, and while he often glossed over certain facts, he had never told an outright lie to Master Splinter. Still, a father worried for his children, and Splinter, like many anxious dads, wished he knew more about the kind of people Raph hung out with. What scared him is that from what he'd seen, they were like those who had once been recruited for the Foot; young people without direction, only filled with hatred and anger. Like Raph.)

Now Mark looked upset and frightened, unusual emotions for him. Mark was NEVER frightened. In fact, he had always reminded Splinter of Casey Jones. But Mark suddenly blurted out, "You have to help me, man!"

"Wazzup, guy?" asked Mike, as he cleared a space on the couch for Mark, who didn't take it.

"It's Raph! It's like he's flipped out or something. He broke up his whole apartment, and I tried to stop him, so he hit me!" They all saw the purplish bruise on his jaw. Leo winced. He'd been in fights with Raph before that were much more than mere sparring. He knew how strong Raph was. "And now he's gone crazy and he's packing all his stuff up and he won't talk to me." Splinter's aged face creased with concern. What would cause such an outburst in his most dangerous and angry son? Many things could provoke Raphael, but he had seemed so happy last night when he left the sewer den.....

"Master," said Leo in a low voice. "What does it mean? Why is he so upset?"

Splinter shook his head. "I do not know, but we must find out. We will visit Raphael, if Mark is willing to take us. We must keep him from foolish action."

Yeah, Mike thought sarcastically. Great plan. Like keeping the sun from rising in the east.

"Sure," said Mark. "Maybe you guys can get him to talk sense. All he'll do is mutter away in Japanese at me. I think he's cussing me out."

They heard a noise at the door and turned their focus off of Mark. Donny was standing there, trenchcoat and hat hanging limply from one hand, body slumped and sad. They could see that he had been crying; his skin was darker than usual and his kind gray eyes were bloodshot. His whole face had a look about it of a sorrow for which there was no comfort.

"My son," said Splinter. "What is wrong?"

Don laughed. It was a hollow thing, devoid of amusement and waiting to be filled up with sadness. A painful laugh. "I guess we don't have to tell Raph. He found out on his own."

"Found what out?" Leo was annoyed. He hated when his little brother spoke in riddles.

"The X-men," said Don. "They're dead." He said it flatly, without emotion. He had run out of tears to shed. Now he was drained of all energy and feeling. His friends were left gaping.

Don sank onto the couch and Mike hugged him. "I should have told him, probably. It might have been better if it came from me. But I was so upset I wasn't thinking straight, and I just wanted to get there, to see what had happened." He trailed off into silence. A few moments later, he added, "They don't know who did it. They can't find Gambit or Wolverine's bodies though." Splinter came to Don's side to embrace him, wishing he could absorb some of his pupil's grief into his own heart. Splinter knew that it was a heavy burden to bear, and he hated to see his son in pain, physical or emotional.

"He'll leave," said Leo, reaching out to touch Don's hand. "We have to stop him." Leo was right, and Splinter and Mike rose, and then Don.

Splinter automatically took the lead and the Turtles fell in behind him. "Come," he said. "Mark, you must lead us to Raphael's home."

*-----*-----*

"Higher, Uncle Raph! Higher!" Emily squeeled. In party hats and good clothes, everyone in the mansion was celebrating the twins' fifth birthday. Raph laughed and pushed Emily's swing harder than before. Suddenly, she pushed off of the swing and fell hard to the grass.

"You're a part of our family," Scott said. "She cares for you. We all do."

The sounds and sights of the past crowded into Raphael's mind. He remembered every detail of the past sixteen years of his life, called them forward and studied them. But memories were useless now. It was over. The X-men were dead.

With a flare of anger borne of sadness and depression, Raph smashed his fist into the wall of the small apartment. Over and over he pounded the wall, letting his sorrow and frustration out in one long wail of helpless Japanese cursing. He was hardly aware of the pain coursing through his hands until he slipped to the floor with exhaustion, noticing with surprise that his hands were covered with blood. His insane anger had driven Mark away from their small apartment building on the east side. Raph didn't know or care where he'd gone and if he would be back. All he could sense were the terrible grief and pain of sorrow.

In a daze, Raph found himself heading to the bathroom, wrapping his knuckles in white gauze and taping it into place. He returned to his bedroom and began once again to cast into his duffle bag the things which mattered most to him. His weapons, a couple books....Most of everything else meant nothing to him. He reflected that in the 32 years of his life, the only things he had collected worth keeping were friends; and he did not have the option of taking those with him. Sorrow rose up in his heart anew and he relieved himself of it in one great sob. Shoulders heaving, he leaned against the wall. Tears ran down his cheeks, and he felt more lonely than he had ever felt in his life.

There was a knock at his locked door. He heard the calm voice of Leo speaking. "Raph," it said. "We heard what happened. I'm sorry." So controlled, so emotionless! Fearless leader to the rescue again, eh Leo? Come to stop him from doing what he had to do. Again. He always has to interfere!

"My son," said Splinter's quiet voice. "I understand your pain. But it will not depart if you run away. You must face your grief and your anger. Only then may you conquer it. To run from grief is to succumb to it. You cannot hide from your problems." Raph was filled with frustration. Always flinging wisdom, eh, Master? What good can your wisdom do? Can it bring back my friends? Some inner part of him was shocked at the way Raph was behaving and thinking about his family, but he ignored it. He didn't want people telling him how he should cope with his feelings!

"You don't understand!" he cried. "Noone does!"

"What about me, Raph," asked Don, his voice weighted with sorrow. "I'm in the same position you are." Leo and Mike and Splinter had not known the X-men except as acquaintances. Don and Raph had been among their closest friends. Raph struggled to cry noiselessly, so that the others wouldn't know he was doing it.

"Leave me alone!" His voice was ragged with pain. "Just leave me!"

"We can't, Raph," pleaded Mike. "We need you, and we don't want you to do this to yourself." Splinter nodded with approval. Mike was unusually serious.

But nothing they said seemed to convince Raph that he should come out and face up to reality. He just screamed at them, refused to listen, cursed. When he used a four-letter word in reference to rats, Splinter's heart nearly broke, and it showed in his face. For Leo, that was the last straw. He had tried to be sympathetic, tried to understand what Raph was going through, that he wasn't quite himself, but he couldn't let Raph talk to the Master like that! Powered by his fury, he kicked out, slamming the wooden door open. Before Raph quite knew what was happening, Leo had crossed the room, seized his shoulder in one hand, and delivered a stinging slap with the other. It wasn't the way he usually confronted someone, but this was his brother, and he was acting like an ass, besides. Dammit! Wake up and think about what you're saying!

For an infintisimal moment, Raph stood silent, as if uncomprehending of what Leo had done. Then, with a sudden burst of fury, he lashed out. Leo was totally unprepared for the punches to the abdoman and face that left him momentarily doubled over in pain, leaving Raph the time to grab his bag and swing himself onto the fire escape. Unheeding of Splinter's order to stop, he was down and gone before the others had fully entered the room. Splinter stood with Leo, who was rapidly recovering, as Mike and Don sped to the window and looked for a sign of Raph's passing. There were none. Splinter was furious, and Leo bowed his head in shame. He had deserved to be hit...He had screwed up the Master's balancing act, totally blown it, driven Raph away. None of them knew when, if ever, he would be back.

*-----*-----*

Raph sat on the edge of the back road, under the bright moon which hung icily in the sky. He waited. In his bag was a refraction chip...the alien Zarik had told him that it reflected the moons rays out through the atmosphere in a clearly identifiable pattern. Raph did not know or care how this technology worked. All that mattered was that soon Zarik or one of his kind would arrive with a ship to take him far, far away from this damned planet.

As he waited for the distant alien ship, he stared at the photograph in his hands. It had been taken in happier times, on no special occassion, just a get-together of the whole gang. Raph and Don were both there, with all the X-men and their families. Raph rubbed his thumb over their faces...Jean, Scott, Logan, Ororo, Remy.....Tears trickled from the corners of his eyes as he remembered once again the way each of them had been. Raph rose to his feet, and in one smooth, angry motion, he flung the picture as hard as he could. It struck a large rock across the road from him. The frame twisted, the picture tore, and the glass split and shattered into a thousand different pieces, beyond all hopes of repair.