Chapter Text
It was the early hours of the morning when Leonardo felt any vague flicker of calm these days. Light illuminated the Valley in cool hues, not quite able to warm with the sun still hiding behind the mountain range.
He supposed it could in part be due to his cold blooded nature, but the chill that settled in his bones always seemed to help numb the constant ache that had burrowed deep within his chest.
He leaned against the porch railing, muscles loose and relaxed. A mug was held in one hand, half filled with coffee that had long since ceased to steam.
The sliders face revealed evidence of sleepless nights, tired eyes with hanging blue and purple bags. Insomnia had always been a persistent companion, only now it seemed he had given up the chase after rest completely.
There were a lot of things he had given up on.
His gaze wandered the property sprawled out below. The cornfields had begun to turn yellow and Donatello’s ripe garden was plump with spoils.
The farm had once belonged to old family friends, the O’Neil’s. Back when all of this had started, it was the nearest safe house the twins had thought of. Now it was where they called home.
A whisper of a breeze caused the grass and plants to sway, a breeze that was met without so much as a shiver from Leon, despite the lack of coat and scarf. The only indication that the autumn morn had any effect on him would be the goosebumps that had begun to prickle up his arms.
He didn’t notice Donnie silently prodding up behind him, his reaction lethargic at best when the sudden brush of something warm and fuzzy was draped over his shoulders.
Leo had always had a keen sense of awareness, but not in the moment, no. It must’ve been his body temperature dropping. Maybe he really did need the blanket.
The slider took a long swig from his drink, intentionally ignoring the waiting presence of his twin and taking in the scenic view for just a moment longer. He swished the liquid around in his mouth. His adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed.
Finally, exhaling through his nose, he turned his head to meet Tello’s hard eyes.
There was that wall. It wasn’t quite rage that constantly simmered behind the softshell’s eyes, nor was it the kind of shallow, bitter sort of despondency that seemed to follow Leo like a stormy cloud circling his head.
Don’s look was guarded, measured by the decimal how much emotion he allowed to cross over his features.
Reserved.
Their eyes met, and Leonardo found himself staring into his twin for a long time. A painful twinge pinched his heart now that the blanket helped it thaw; when had it become so difficult for him to read his brother’s thoughts?
<<Were you still planning on going out today?>> Donatello signed.
Leo nodded, setting his mug on the railing. <<I need to get some extra fishing in before winter hits. Not really sure what it’s going to look like with the snow and ice.>>
His lips switched in the failed attempt to force a false smile to his face. <<Might as well stock up while we still can.>>
Donatello didn’t blink, didn’t so much as acknowledge Leo’s words. He just continued to watch the slider carefully.
Leo knew he had listened, even as the softshell silently walked back inside.
//
By the time the sun had peaked over the mountain tops, the red eared slider had a backpack over his shoulders.
He was trying to attach his sword to his belt line, the blade wrapped in a cloth sheath to stifle the sound of its draw. The kids would be up soon, he’d much rather be on his way before either of them woke up.
Not that he thought he’d run into Casey Jr; his eldest had spent the vast majority of the past month locked up in his room.
Was it out of character? Well, Junior was a growing kid. He needed space, especially. . . after everything that had happened.
Did Leo worry he was getting enough to eat when he failed to show again and again for meals?
. . . . .the turtle reached for the hunting spear leaning against the wall.
He slung it between his shell and bag, turning for the door. However, he didn’t take another step, fingers twitching above the thick curtain they used as their door.
The slider’s expression softened with a tired sigh, looking down at the fluff of fur that had attached herself tightly to his waist. As gently as he could, he pried Emi’s fingers apart, detaching her from the hug.
He held her hands as he knelt down, running his thumb along her soft cheek to coax her to look up at him, before tilting his palms up to face the sky.
<<What’s up, conejita?>>
She didn’t respond at first, struggling to meet his eyes. Her whole body seemed to wilt in on itself, brow furrowed in a sad way that reminded Leo all too much of when his and Donnie’s baby brother had been this age.
It took Leo a moment to realize why her eyes glistened so brightly.
<<Please don’t go.>> she signed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. She didn’t dare sniffle.
<<I’ll only be a few hours,>> Leo brushed her bangs out of her eyes, plastering on a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, <<You won’t even notice I’m gone.>>
That seemed to do little to comfort her, sad doe eyes wide while her mouth wobbled in a thin line.
She’d always been clingy, but it was bordering on the extreme now. She was frightened, and her dad honestly couldn’t blame her. Why shouldn’t she be?
Luckily, the wiry arms of her uncle came to lift her off the floor. Donatello held her close to his chest, and she quickly hid herself in the nape of his neck.
Leo signed a quick thank you, standing back up to his full height. Again, his fingers came close to pulling back the curtain, and once again, he found himself forced to stop.
Donnie had a hold on his wrist, and Leo turned to face him, dropping his hand to coax the softshell to let go. He didn’t.
“You’re going to come back, right?”
Don’s voice was a whispery thing that could hardly count itself as sound. Soft enough to not risk giving them away. It wasn’t like any things were in the area anyhow.
Leo shook his head, a playful roll of his eyes. <<OK.>>
Still, Donatello refused to drop the slider’s wrist. Though his expression was steely cold, Leo could see for once the unfiltered emotion seeping through the cracks.
“You are going to come back.”
He needed him to come back.
Nardo didn’t respond at first. He didn’t really know how to respond.
After an awkward pause, he reached to pry away Donnie’s hand, letting his fingers card through Emi’s fur and down her ears before finally, finally, pulling the curtain back.
<<Make sure Junior doesn’t sleep in too long.>> he signed, then crossed his arms over his chest. <<Love you.>>
He didn’t have to look at his twin to know the deflection stung. He didn’t really know why he couldn’t bring himself to make a promise like that.
It would have been simple to say. It would have been comforting for them to hear, would’ve given them some peace of mind when peace had practically fled from their lives.
‘I promise.’ Two small words. Easy.
It was the same thing Raph had said, the night he’d gone searching for Mikey.
//
It was a beautiful, clear, autumn day. The soft pastel of the sky was a stark contrast to the bright and bold leaves starting to fall in piles all along the sandy path Leonardo traversed.
The soft tweets of birds busied themselves in the tree tops, and the turtle’s focus remained on his footsteps.
The river wasn’t far. Within twenty minutes, Leo perked up at the soft rush of currents slowly approaching. The waterfall was close enough for Leo to see the cascading white streams pounding into the river below, like drums against his ears unused to such an uproar.
The slider paused, a hand on his spear — a combination of Donatello’s old bow with a piece of what had once been Leo’s second katana tied to the end.
Memories of his childhood flashed in his mind. He remembered how him, his brothers, and April had played here when they would visit the farm in the summer. It had been such a happy time.
How could this place look exactly the same when virtually everything else in the world had changed?
He took off his gear, gently setting it to the side of the riverbank, and sat down.
For a time, he just watched the current, his own mind a murkier version of turmoil.
He was so tired.
So very tired.
It would’ve been too easy to surrender here. The river was loud, yes, but he was far enough away from the waterfall.
All he had to do was close his eyes and scream. Then it could all—
The snap of a twig behind him broke his train of thought. All at once, Leo went rigid, breathing carefully. Not a sound.
He waited, hand itching for the sword at his waist. There was someone, something, behind him. He’d been too caught up in himself to notice the undeniable presence.
Now his senses were on hyperdrive. The air was sickeningly sweet in his mouth, the tiny, smooth stones of the riverbank like ice cubes against his fingertips digging into the wet soil. Every color of the forest was almost painfully saturated.
And he listened. Waited for it.
. . . .There it is.
The clicks were sharp in the breeze but gentle, somewhat hesitant. The creature announcing its presence.
Leonardo didn’t even risk looking over his shoulder. The thing was practically breathing down his neck — or at least, that’s how it felt.
He didn’t move an inch, muscles locked in place, practically willing even his pulse to slow.
He heard the creature take a step closer, then another, close enough that Leo’s smaller frame was cast in its shadow. The slimy mucus that coated its skin dripped to the pebbles under its feet, onto Leonardo’s shoulder, and he swallowed down the bile that built in his throat.
Still, he waited.
The seconds that past felt like hours, before finally, the thing turned with a sniff, slinking up the riverbank. Its shadow disappeared.
Leo only allowed himself to breathe once the short clicks faded into the distance. His heart was thumping so fast against his ribs, he was surprised it hadn’t given him away.
His hands trembled in his lap, straining his ears to pick up any more giveaways that he was still in any sort of immediate danger.
He was pretty sure the monster was gone for now. But pretty sure was a far cry from certainty.
By the time the slider did finally move, the sun was high in the sky, making the water appear full of glimmering crystals.
For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like an empty shell. The contemplation of death had been on his mind for a while now, but when when it’s no longer a concept, it’s fascinating what comes rushing to a person’s mind.
All Leonardo could picture was his family. How Junior laid in bed for hours at a time, how Emi’s anxiety attached herself to the nearest form of safety. How the emotionless cold in Donnie’s eyes cracked a little more every day as he tried to fix what wasn’t fixable.
He couldn’t leave them too. They wouldn’t survive that again.
//
Donatello was surprised when his twin brother came home early, even more so that he returned empty handed.
He was tending to the garden, Emi practically glued to his side while he worked.
He was picking out the roots of a weed when Emi suddenly stood and shot off down the white beach road.
He glanced up right as Leonardo scooped his little girl up into his arms, holding her tight to his plastron as he spun her around.
Donnie waved Leo down while the slider was still several yards away. <<No fish?>>
Leonardo didn’t respond at first, but eyes met Donnie’s, more alive than they had been in weeks. It wasn’t a happy, peaceful liveliness, but the bright color of someone who realized they had something to live for.
The softshell had missed that color. Terribly so.
Leo set Emi down, crouching down next to Donnie.
They hugged.
For a moment, Donatello paused. He could feel his twin’s steady breath against his shoulder, soft and still, almost a relaxed state. It was clear the slider had some sort of experience while he was away, and Donnie was itching for Leo to tell him what had happened and why on earth he came back without catching anything.
When Leo did pull away, the fist against his chest surprised Don.
<<I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, D.>>
The slider’s fingers twitched as he continued. <<I’ve been in such a funk lately, and that’s not fair to you and the kids—>>
Donnie grabbed his hands before he could finish. The softshell ignored the sting in his eyes. It was just allergies. Probably.
<<No.>> he signed firmly, then signed it again, making sure his twin was watching him. <<Leo, you lost a child. Feelings might not be something I’m good at, but I’m not stupid to think you shouldn’t be affected by that.>>
Leo tried to sign again, and again, Donnie stopped him.
He didn’t need to say anything, just held Leo’s gaze fiercely. The emotion that Donnie would later deny bled through was enough to convey how much the apology meant, and how the softshell held absolutely nothing against him; he never had.
Leonardo swallowed thickly, tugging on his twin’s sweater to pull him into another embrace.
Donatello was more than happy to return the sentiment.
Later, Leo would relate his encounter by the river, and the twins would decide a time to scout again, double check how many were in the area.
But for now. . . For now, they were okay.