Raphael's Heart (2nd book)

2

3/1/19
Raph POV (the evening)

"Aight, so where the bad guys at."

Leo walks into view with a scowl on his face and Raph rolls his eyes in annoyance. He knows that he's rarely there to join them, but he reasons that they don't need his help. I mean, they've fought without him before.

"Raph, I swear! You're always off getting drunk off your a** and then we have to fight without you." Leo iterates in frustration. It's not the first time Raph's heard this. For the past four months, it's always been the same thing accompanied with a lecture. He feels guilt somewhere deep down in the burrows of his dilapidating heart, but right now, it's covered with the immense pressure of nothingness. All his emotions, empathy, and sympathy are burrowed under that occupying void. All that's been left is the sudden feeling of incomprehensible anger and sorrow— but all of that can be drowned away.
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(1 month ago)
*play video from above here*

He sits back on the couch and slouches into it as his hand tightly grips the neck of the whiskey bottle. He didn't read the brand of it. All he wanted was something strong enough to anesthetize himself. It was one of those days that the weight of depression was unbearable and the thoughts of you would haunt his mind. He didn't want to be conscious during those moments— he couldn't. Those moments brought all the guilt out of the burrow and it would eat him alive. What'll a little drink do anyway? Kill him?

After all, he can't hurt, if he can't feel.

He brings the toxic to his lips and shuts his eyes before tilting the bottom of the bottle upward and feeling the stinging sensation run down his throat. A single tear runs down his cheek before another slicks down the other. This triggers another swig of alcohol to burn his throat, but he doesn't care because he can feel this toxic elixir begin its numbing magic, and wring him dry of any conflicting feelings other than lightheadedness. One chug after another, his bottle of whiskey is almost completely emptied, and he's beginning to feel content. His mind is shrouded with cloudiness as he stares at the powerless T.V in front of him with a drunken smile; afterward, throwing his head back and laughing hysterically. He didn't know what was so funny; maybe, he was laughing at how much of his life is a joke. Tears stream down his face as he laughs continuously—clenching the great whiskey bottle so tight it shatters. His laughter abruptly stops, and looks down at his hand to see a wound spouting blood. In response, he presses a hand over the wound and tilts his head back onto the couch and sighs:

"(Y/n), beautiful " he giggles, "come home now." His voice ends in a broken melodic tone.
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Leo walks up to Raph and shoves a finger on his chest. "I'm tired of you pulling this sh*t, Raph!" He reprimands.

Raph shoves Leo away from him by the shoulders and grunts, "Don't f*cking touch me!" Leo stumbles backwards and Raph notices Mikey and Donnie appear.

Leo scoffs and shakes his head as he picks up his Katana from the ground.

"Guys, we're still in the warehouse; let's not fight here." Donnie advises. Raph is the first to turn around and exit the warehouse.

The walk back is made up of a tense and silent atmosphere that no one wanted to break.

Once they've reached the lair, Raph makes an immediate turn to his bedroom and locks the door behind him. He lays on his bed and mindlessly gazes at the ceiling with his hands tucked behind his head. Suddenly, a knock is heard at his door: