Don't worry, this won't spoil the story for ya or anything.
If you read Day 2: Suicide in ZEROHOUR, you'll remember the scene in which Raphael was captured by the Sentinel. Well, I've managed to trace the origin of this scene to the first semester of my freshman year in high school. (That would be three years ago, folks.) I had a notebook I called "The Bloody Raving Psychotic Book," which I carried around and scribbled all my insane thoughts in. Those thoughts included some scenes for stories-to-be that just kept running around in my head.
In this notebook, I found the earliest written version (version 1.0, if you will) of the Raphael capture scene. This was one of my references when I eventually wrote the scene into the story. The early version is very, very raw, and way too melodramatic for my taste. But it's here for you too see, just because I find it interesting to see the evolution of the scene. Right after it, I've put the final version of the scene as it appears in ZEROHOUR. Compare and enjoy.
Another difference between the two versions (besides excessive melodrama in the first one) is the terrain. I changed the setting of the scene for ZEROHOUR. I also made the Sentinels less verbal and more violent; in V1.0, they closely resemble the Sentinels portrayed in the X-men cartoon. (Which is where I ripped them off from, in case you didn't know.) Overall, everything became more detailed, which is why the final version is so much longer.
"Raphael's Capture" scene, V1.0
The two zigzagged through the spattering of trees on the plain. The Sentinels pursued, firing lasers every few seconds. As the two began to run a long, open stretch toward the woods, a random shot from the pursuing Sentinel struck Raphael's right leg. He gave a sharp cry of pain. Donatello turned back and extended his hand to help Raphael up. Raphael rose on his left leg, trying to take a few steps, and fell, with a groan of pain.
"Raph, get up!"
"I-I can't walk, Don. I'm going to have to stay here."
"No! I'm not leaving you here!"
"Don, you must. This is more important than me," he said softly, pressing the cylinder containing the message into Don's hand.
"But-"
"Run. Run for all our sakes, Don. Run for both our lives." As the Sentinel approached, Don stumbled to his feet and, clutching the cylinder, raced into the woods. He didn't look back to see the Sentinels pause before Raphael.
"HALT, MUTANT." Raphael froze, unmoving. His shoulders slumped as he lay helpless, accepting his fate. An electric coil snapped out of the Sentinel's extended palm and wrapped itself around Raphael. Raphael gave an involuntary cry of pain as the Sentinel lifted him. Excruciating pain lanced his muscles. Raphael moaned. "CRITICALLY INJURED MUTANT APPREHENDED. SENTINEL 2134 RETURNING TO BASE."
"Critically injured? Is it that bad?" Raphael wondered frantically. he blacked out.
"Raphael's Capture" scene, Final Version
"Raph, run!" cried Donny. And they took off across the prairie as fast as their legs would take them. Oh, God, why now, not on the first day. We’ve only gone forty miles or so, what’s a Sentinel doing so far out? What difference does it make, we’re going to die... Don mentally shook himself. No, don’t start thinking that way! Start thinking survival--weave and dodge, avoid anything he might try and hit you with. No shelter here. Just have to outrun him. No problem. Just keep going.
Raph could hear the grinding of metal gears as the Sentinel lumbered after him; the only good thing to be said about them was that they were far too slow for such a quick pursuit. Raph was elated. They were going to make it! Just then, a second Sentinel loomed up in front of them and the two Turtles were forced to cut off to the left. It must have been lying in ambush for them, alerted by the first Sentinel. The Turtles cut sharp zigzags in the grassy plain, trying to avoid the lasers of the Sentinels....they were burn lasers that seared a burning black hole into the target, one of the nastiest weapons available to Mastermold. So naturally, the bugger was sure to include it in all his Sentinels. If you can’t kill the enemy at first sight, might as well hurt him really badly.
Man, Raph thought. If I had a blaster right now....but we can’t afford to stop--even if we defeated them without getting hurt, they could call for more, and we’d be caught for sure. Gotta keep moving. Don’t look back. Just run, dammit!
Then the inevitable happened: Raph veered right into the path of one of the lasers. He gave a sharp cry of pain as he felt the terrible beam cutting into his leg, stumbling and falling hard on his side. Donatello turned back, grabbed Raph’s hand and pulled him up; both felt the tension and the desperate need for speed. C’mon Raph, thought Don, We can still make it! Raphael rose, balanced on his left leg, but when he tried to take a few steps, he fell with an involuntary groan.
"Raph, get up!" cried Don. The same urgency and desperation was in his voice. A lance of fear stabbed through him.
Raph grimaced. "I can’t walk. I’ll have to stay here."
Don scowled. "The hell you are! Quit being such a fatalist and get up." But he knew, with a sinking feeling in his gut, that Raph was right; there was no way he could walk, much less run, all the way to Houston camp. You knew you ran this risk when you volunteered, Don reminded himself. You knew you were going through enemy territory and one of you might get hurt. But reminding himself didn’t help deal with this situation. What would happen if he couldn’t get Raph up?
"G’wan, get out of here." Raph was half-lying on his left side to ease the pain in his right leg, where the laser had hit just above the knee.
Don started. He looked the truth in the face....if Raph couldn’t keep going, Don would have to leave him. He looked down at the message in his hand. A message that could win or lose the war. A message that would never get to the front if they didn’t go on. Thus his dilemma; he wasn’t particularly concerned about being captured with Raph, but what would happen if Mastermold got the message, which he certainly would in that case?
"Better think fast, you’ve only got five minutes or so before the Sentinels get their slow butts over here," Raph said easily. Don growled softly. Here Raph was, about to be captured by some of his worst enemies, and he was sitting here deciding his fate and expecting Don to go along with his dying martyr bit. And he wasn’t exactly all shaken up about it either. Damn him! thought Don. I’d almost feel better if he was weeping all over me begging me not to leave him. But that wasn’t Raph’s way. Raph’s way was to decide what should happen and twist others’ minds until they made it so. "So," Raph said. "Ya gotta make a decision, bro: kin or country? What’s it gonna be?" He grinned. This isn’t funny! Can’t you be serious for once and let me think! Don turned away, clutching the canister that contained the all-important message, trying to decide what to do.
He turned when he heard, almost simultaneously, a click and Raph saying, "Here, let me make it easy for you." Raph had somehow gotten a projectile-firing pistol (nearly an antique by now), and it was pointed directly at Don’s head.
Raph!" exclaimed Don in shock. "What are you doing!?"
Raph grinned sadistically. "Helpin’ you out, bro. Now take off, before I make the decision that tha Sentinels are gonna make for you in mere moments." Terrific, thought Don, he’s finally lost it. Completely round the bend. Or maybe not. Don realized that given the time to think, he’d rather stay with Raph. Screw the mutant resistance. They could do without them and the message. But now he had a gun in his face. But, he wondered, how could he really be serious? Raph fired off a shot that went dangerously close to his head. He ducked.
"Raph!" he yelped.
Raph scowled. "Now get outta here, man. I’m not telling you again....and next time, I might just hit you." Something in Raph’s voice gave Don the full understanding of his position; but why was Raph so nationalistic all of a sudden? Concerned with honor? That sounded more like Leo. But then, Splinter had always said that the two were much more similar than anyone else could guess. Perhaps that was why they seemed to clash so often. Don backed away a little.
"Next time I see you," he warned. "I’ll kick your butt for this."
"Whatever, Don." Raph smirked. "You couldn’t touch me on your best day. Besides, who knows if you’ll-" He stopped, unable to finish the sentence. Ah, thought Donny, a crack in the martyr’s armor of honor. Raph knew the possibilities and didn’t like them much. He was likely sacrificing himself and he knew it. But he grinned, regardless. "But then again, I’ve been known to come back from the dead." It was true.
(This, thought Don, was ridiculous. How could a turtle drown? But there was Raph, lying motionless on the pilings, totally wet, not breathing. "Come on, buddy!" he cried aloud, desperately. Raph’s skin was as cold as ice! He needed a hospital, and Don was definitely not a doctor. But he had to try. "Breathe, dammit!" he screamed, bending again to force his own warm breath into Raph’s cold, clammy lips. He again laid his two fingers on Raph’s neck. But the reassuring throb was gone. "Noooo!" cried Don. His heart had stopped! Denying it, refusing to believe his brother was dead, Don knelt over him, thanking God that Splinter had insisted they all learn CPR. "Please live, Raph, please," Don begged. "We need you, man, don’t leave us."
He cajoled and pleaded with his silent brother as he pushed on the turtle’s chest, trying to make the heart beat, bent again to breath for Raph. He couldn’t stop thinking about statistics, about Rescue 911, about all he knew of CPR; CPR so rarely worked, it was really only an interlude, something to do and hope might help until the ambulance arrived. But there would be no ambulance, and Don wished he had more than a nearly useless technique with which to revive his brother. Tears rolled down his cheeks. "No, Raph, no, I’m losing you. Don’t slip away." But the turtle gave no response. Over and over, Don followed the motions, pumping the chest, risking breaking the turtle’s ribs, he pushed so hard,, but it was worth it if only he would live! But with each second that passed, Don’s chances of saving Raph lessened.
He pumped harder, willing Raph to live. Hopelessly, he checked for a pulse he was sure would not be there. It was all through. But there was something--a faint *thump*, perhaps? Again, Don went through the cycle, breathing, five pushes at the chest. The heartbeat strengthened, expanded. Don could almost hear it, pounding in his ears, matching his own elated rhythm. Raph coughed, rolled to his side, vomiting seawater. Don embraced him, laughing and crying.
"Geez, Don, don’t crush me, huh? Give a guy some room!)
But even Raph’s incredible track record might not save him this time. "Go!" shouted Raph, cocking his pistol, ready for another shot.
"I love you, Raph," he said, and went.
Raph closed his eyes. It was finished. But better this way. He had saved the Resistance, but more importantly, he had saved Donny. There was nothing left but to wait, and that was something he didn’t have to do for long. The Sentinel came closer. Raph went limp as he felt the enormous hand close around his fragile body, bit his lip and tried to hold back the screams. The metal fingers were not exactly delicate, and his leg was killing him. A wave of dizzying red faded to blackness.
The TMNT (Leonardo, Michaelangelo, Donatello, Raphael), April O'Neil, and associated characters are copyright 1998 Mirage Publishing. The Sentinels and Trackers are shamelessly ripped off from Marvel Comics and the X-men cartoon show. However, this story is copyright 1998 Luna Azul. Any attempt to steal, plagarize, edit, or in any way use this material will result in me doing something that you will regret sincerely.