Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s in his posture, the way his shoulders stand so perfectly squared, not tensed but not relaxed. The way his back is always straight and tall, no hunch or droop in sight. The way his smile almost mocks everything around it with it’s extreme confidence. The way his voice always carries an air of superiority, even when he’s complimenting. Especially when he’s complimenting.

But mostly his eyes.

Those dark blue eyes that look down on the rest of the world as unworthy. Lacking in skill and strength and strategy and everything he does with such ease.

Perfection.

That’s what he is. Thinks he is. Tries way too hard to be.

Looking at everyone as though they’re beneath him.

Looking at us.

Looking at me.

Some days I can take it. Some days I can ignore it and throw my fist through something solid and hear the crack that drowns out his disapproval and forget he’s watching. Forget he’s judging.

And some days I can’t. Some days throwing my fist through something would only help if it was his skull. Anything to close those self-righteous eyes and shut that sanctimonious mouth.

Some days I hate him. Truly hate him.

Some days.

Today.

“Raph!”

I punched the last of the goons out, throwing him on top of the pile, enjoying the site of all five of ‘em groaning in unconsciousness. Didn’t even break a sweat. ‘Course Leo had to show up and ruin the moment.

“Raph, what are you doing?”

“Couple of scrawny ones got away. Didn’t want them missing out on the fun.” Not that I owe him an explanation.

“I told you not to go after them, we were supposed to stay and check the warehouse.”

I see him glance disapprovingly at the puddle of KO’d thugs down the alley. He has that look like he’s about to jump down my throat with a lecture of some sort. I’m already rolling my eyes.

“Don’t get your shell in a bunch, I was gonna head back once they were taken care of.”

“You shouldn’t have left. The Dragons aren’t going to let us have their new weapons shipment without a fight. They’re probably already sending reinforcements. We need to get back and help Don and Mikey.”

Like I didn’t know all that already. I swear he treats me like an idiot on purpose sometimes, just to piss me off. “I said I was gonna head back. If you’re so worried about it, why’d you leave those two to deal with it alone?”

“Because you took off! And I didn’t want you out here fighting alone.”

“I don’t need a babysitter, Leo! I can handle myself!” My hands clench into fists as I see him hold back a scoff. The arrogant jerk actually thought I couldn’t take care of a few Purple Dragons on my own? Of course he didn’t. Only Leo can take care of himself. Only the great and powerful Leonardo knows how to fell his enemies without the aid of his brothers. God forbid his siblings actually try to do something on their own!

“I told you not to go after them, Raph. It wasn’t a suggestion.”

I freeze, my back to my brother as my hands curl even tighter. I can feel my blood boiling through my skin. Did he just— “Oh, I see what this is about. The Great Fearless Leader gave an order and the insignificant subordinate didn’t obey.”

As soon as I turn, I see his eyes roll at my comment. It’s a testament to my self control that I don’t lay him out right here and now. He’s pissed that I didn’t obey his every whim, and then he has the gall to act like I’m the one being a pain in the shell.

For a minute, he just stands there, staring me down like he’s deciding how patronizing to be in his reply. I can see the anger building behind his mask and I so badly want to see him let it loose so I have an excuse to pound on him. Even just a little.

“We’re going back. Now.”

“Was that a suggestion?”

He stops just before he turns away and I know I’m pushing my luck. But I can’t help it. His eyes are still staring at me like I’m the biggest idiot in the world for thinking for myself instead of listening to his oh-so-wise orders, and it pisses me off more than anything in the world.

“No. It wasn’t.”

“Screw you, Leo!” I hate him. “I’m not some lacky you can order around with the flick of a wrist!”

I hate his smug face.

“I never said you were a lacky.”

His condescending eyes.

“Yet you get pissed every time I don’t ask ‘how high’ whenever you tell me to jump!”

“I’m the leader, Raph. It’s my job to give the orders!”

I hate him.

“And don’t you just love pointing that out every chance you get.”

“We don’t have time for this.”

“No, of course not! There’s only ever time to berate your brothers, not explain your actions.”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you!”

He blinks, like he was surprised the words came out of his mouth. But we both know he means them. And I’ve never wanted to punch my brother’s teeth out so bad. “So that’s how it is, huh? The Great Leonardo knows all and doesn’t need to waste time explaining himself to the rest of us mere mortals.”

“That’s not what I—“

“That’s exactly what you meant!” I’m fuming now. Inching closer to his face so he has to look at me, has to look me in the eye while he spouts his excuses. “That’s what you’re always about, isn’t it? Proving that you’re better than everybody else, that you’re smarter, stronger, and faster than everyone! And God forbid someone actually tries to measure up, you gotta knock ‘em down a peg to make yourself feel better!”

He’s quiet. I can see I’ve hit a nerve; his eyes have that look like they’re tryin’ really hard not to show emotion. But I don’t give a damn. I’ll step on as many nerves as I have to to make him realize that he’s not God and he doesn’t control us.

He doesn’t control me.

“You think you don’t measure up?”

It came so far outta left field, the words take a good minute to sink in. I can feel my blood pumping faster as my defences go up. “Where the hell did that come from!?”

“You said ‘God forbid someone actually tries to measure up’, I assume you were talking about yourself.” He stares a minute, his eyes looking me over as though trying to get a read on my mental state. “You don’t think you measure up?”

Don’t go there, Leo. Leave it alone. “That’s not what I meant!”

“Then what—“

“I meant that you’re a selfish asshole and I’m done talkin’ about this.”

I don’t give him a chance to respond. It’s starting to rain, Mikey and Don are still back at the warehouse alone, and even though it means doing exactly what he’d said to do earlier, I’m ready to do just about anything to keep from talking to him anymore.

He follows me as I climb up the building, taking to the rooftops and leaving the heap of mangled thugs for the cops.

“Raph wait—“

“I said I ain’t talkin’ about it no more! Back off Leo!”

I don’t look back, but I can hear him comin’ up behind me with unusually heavy footsteps. Either he’s pissed or he’s worried, and I don’t have enough patience to care which one.

“It has nothing to do with skill level, it’s about strategy. You’ve left Mikey and Donnie wide open to attack.”

I can’t help but scoff. If the world were to end today, Leo’d find some way to make it my fault.

“We’re a team, Raph.” Here he goes again. “We need to work together.” With that condescending tone.

His hand’s suddenly on my shoulder and I bristle immediately, my fists clenching tighter, ready to strike.

“Are you listening to me?”

Back off, Leo. Just back off.

“You can’t go off grandstanding every time you dislike an order.”

I hate him. One more word and I’ll—

“Raph, you need to—“

“I don’t need anything!” Hate everything about him. “I don’t need your orders! I don’t need your leadership! I DON’T NEED YOU!”

I wish he was—

“RAPH!”

I barely have time to process the fear in his voice as my fist flies through the air at his jaw, when something crashes hard into my side. Suddenly I’m flying through the air. Rain’s pouring on my face, making it hard to see. Thunder snaps through the wind with a loud crack and every nerve in my body is screaming at me all at once.

Something is very wrong.

I hit the ground hard, hydroplaning across the rooftop until I collide with the brick of the raised trim on the ledge. Damn that hurt! Anger rises as I prepare the mother of all curses to hurl at my brother, who’s staring off into the distance, sword drawn and ready.

“Dammit, Leo! What the hell was—“

One of his swords is missing.

I scan the horizon of roofs until I come across the intrusion; an lone purple dragon on the adjacent building, weapon lying limply in his lap, fighting to wrench free from the blade now pinning him to a chimney through his shoulder. Just barely above his heart. His frantic spasms last all of a minute before he stills entirely. Permanently.

Admittedly, it was a nice hit.

Just another notch for Leo to add to his belt of—

I smell blood. Thick and rancid. Can practically taste it on the rain. Can’t be the thug’s, he’s too far away for the downpour not to have drowned out the smell. Then where…

A chill runs down my spine as I freeze in place, staring at the watery puddle of red that’s slowly crawling towards me. For a minute, my vision blurs. Everything seems to shut down as I slowly look up, tracking the blood to it’s source.

Leo’s staring down at his hand by his stomach, eyes wide.

There’s blood dripping down his fingers.

The denial nearly chokes me. It can’t be… there’s no way… “Leo?”

His sword falls to the ground with a clang that rings in my ears incessantly.

I don’t remember moving. All of a sudden I’m rushing to his side as he just stares at the blood on his hand.

His shock wears off suddenly and the pain sets in; I know it’s sudden because he doesn’t have a chance to hide it. His face twists into a grimace that makes my chest tighten to the point that I stumble as I move towards him. I make it to him just as he starts to fall, catching my shoulder under his arm to hold him up. “Leo!” I reach a hand down to the one covering his wound, pulling it away slightly so I can take a look and see how bad.

He’s been shot. Leo’s been shot.

My mind shuts down as the rain no longer registers and all I can see or smell or think about is the blood, pouring down his stomach and pooling at his feet.

This can’t be happening. I refuse to let this happen.

“It’s alright bro, I got you.”

He leans heavily on my shoulder, breathing shallow and sharp as I watch him try to get a handle on the pain. “There might be more.” He grunts out through rasped breaths. “Check the perimeter, in case they—“

“Not a chance. I ain’t leavin’ you like this.” I couldn’t even if I wanted to. My legs feel like jello, and my mind won’t stop running in panicked circles long enough for me to think straight.

He looks about to protest when a cough cuts him off, dribbling blood over his lips. I ain’t no medic, but I know that’s a bad sign. Probably means something vital’s been hit.

Dammit.

My blood’s running colder by the minute as my mind races trying to figure out what the shell I’m supposed to do. The only guy I know who could do any kind of good in this situation is several blocks away, and I can’t leave Leo to go get him.

“Pressure.”

Leo’s voice barely penetrates my jumble of thoughts as I tear my eyes away from his stomach. “What?”

He puts his hand over mine on his stomach and presses it down, suppressing a cry as he does it. “Keep… pressure. Stop the bleeding.”

My mind finally clicks, annoyed as hell that I had to be reminded of the obvious. Leo’s the one bleeding onto the concrete and he still manages to take charge of the situation. I don’t know whether to be proud or pissed, but the latter’s always been easier, so I stick to what I do best. “I know.” I say curtly, pushing even harder on his stomach as blood squelches through my fingers.

I think I’m gonna be sick.

“The warehouse… Mikey and Don—“ He chokes on more blood, turning onto his side so he can spit it up while I hold him steady.

“I know.” My voice is sharp, cutting through my fear with anger whenever possible. But Leo’s not offended, he looks worried. And not about himself.

“Raph—“

“Just shut up and save your breath, Fearless. I’ll give ‘em a call, alright?” I take my arm out from around his shoulder, resting him on his shell as I grab my phone, and try to turn away as much as I can while still pressing on his stomach; can’t let him see my hand shaking. Why pride matters at a time like this, I don’t know.

I don’t know why it ever does.

Several rings with no reply had us both on edge. I have to swallow my growing anger as I hang up and redial again. And again.

“Raph?”

Donnie’s breathless reply catches me off guard. “Yeah Don. It’s—“ A loud rumble in the background cuts me off before my brother’s winded voice comes through again, a twinge of anger to it that’s more worrisome than the background noise.

“Where are you!? We need you here!”

“Don, what’s going—“

“Not now!” He cuts off with a grunt and I can hear his boe crack against what I can only assume is bone. They’re in the middle of a fight. “Just get back here. Fast! We need you!” Another crack and a groan as Don sends another guy flying, I assume. At least it sounds like they’re holding their own. “Is Leo with you?”

It takes me a moment to fight past my anger at what I have to say next and unclench my jaw. “Yeah. Don he’s—“

“Save it, Raph! Whatever you two were arguing about, I don’t care. Just tell him to get back—“

“He’s been shot.”

I can practically hear his eyes snap open as he gasps a surprised breath. Apparently the pause must have been enough for an opponent to take advantage because the next sound I hear is Don crying out in pain and then the phone dropping to the floor or slamming against a wall or something of the sort. “Don?” My hand curls tighter around my cell as I grind my teeth, trying my hardest not to chuck the phone against the nearest wall out of sheer frustration.

Mikey and Don were in trouble. Big trouble. And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

Suddenly I feel Leo’s hand on my arm and I turn to face him. He looks as worried as I feel and I got nothing to reassure him with. I turn away and speak as calmly into the phone as I can manage. “Don? Don, you there?”

“Where?”

Again, the sudden reply catches me off guard and I nearly drop the phone. “What the shell, Brainiac—“

“Where’s he been shot, Raph?”

No beating around the bush. “Stomach.” There’s a long silence and I can feel Donnie’s fear creeping through the phone, adding to my own. With Don, silence usually means he’s calculating a million ways to fix the problem and sorting through to find the best answer. Usually. Sometimes it means he has no answers and he’s fighting his own annoyance or fear over not being able to find a solution.

Somehow I get the feeling this is one of those second silences. My body shudders, but I tell myself it’s just the cold rain.

“We’re on our way. Don’t let him move, Raph. Not till I get there, understand? Not even a little bit.”

“I got him, egghead. Just hurry your shells up.”

The minute I click the phone off, an unexpected weight of fear drops on my shoulders, like it had been waiting to drop until it was just me and Leo. I can still feel him searching for answers in my face, so I put on my most indignant frown and turn back to focus on his stomach. “They’re on their way.”

“Are they—“

“—Fine. Just taking care of a few unexpected stragglers.” More likely it’s reinforcements that have arrived to protect their weapons, but I can’t think about it. I don’t have the mental fortitude to worry about all three siblings being in mortal peril, especially knowing there ain’t a damn thing I can do to help any of ‘em.

Especially knowing it was all my—

I catch Leo’s eyes a moment and notice he’s starin’ straight at me. He gets this look on his face and I know what he’s about to say, so I cut him off before he gets a chance. “Don’t even think it.”

But he’s Leo. Of course he’s thinkin’ it. “They need help.” I can feel his stare bore into me just shy of pleading as I focus on trying to stop the river of blood still coursing through my fingers.

“I ain’t leavin’ Leo. I leave, you bleed out.”

A painful grimace stops his next objection as I press harder on his stomach.

“…What if…”

I follow his gaze to where the sniper lies rotting and my muscles tighten with sudden dread as I catch the thought he’s pressing. “They can handle themselves.” I say irately, both trying to convince him and myself. “Besides, what force in the universe has ever been able to pin Mikey down when he’s all hyped up?”

Leo smiles at that, but it quickly devolves into a cough that rattles his whole body. I can’t look at him as it happens, I just keep my eyes on the bullet wound and try to convince myself the bleeding is slowing.

It’ll be alright. Don will know what to do. Leo’s survived being shot before, no reason why he can’t now.

We sit in silence for what feels like a long while, and I am content to keep it that way; I’m still pissed as hell at him and I don’t want to make all this worse by shoutin’ at him again. Not till Don’s patched him up. But his eyes are glossing over and starting to close, so I know I need to do something to keep him awake.

“Hey.” My voice startles him from whatever thought he’s in the middle of. “Keep them baby blues open, Leo. If you pass out, I ain’t givin’ you CPR.”

“Duly noted.” He says with an attempt at a grin. His eyes drift beside him and I know he’s looking for Don and Mikey.

“They’ll be here soon.” I say quickly, trying to silence my own fears of the battle they’re fighting on their own. Leo’s practically twitching with the need to go find them and make sure they’re alright, and I can feel my body tensing the same way. If anything happens to them…

All because I—

Leo’s eyes suddenly snap shut as his body starts shaking. The groan of pain that slips from his lips tenses my throat so much I almost can’t breathe. I’m not used to seeing Leo in pain. Hurt or bleeding, sure, it happens more than he’ll ever admit. But pain… Leo’s usually real good at keepin’ that to himself.

Yet another thing that Mr. Perfect is oh so good at.

I shake that thought from my mind as quick as I can. Not now. Not when he’s—

It takes several minutes before his body stops shaking, but his eyes stay closed. “Leo?” He doesn’t reply and I feel every muscle in my body tense. “Leo!” No. No way. Not possible. Moving one of my blood-soaked hands to his shoulder, I give him a rough shake.

“Leo!”

Don’t you even think of—

“S-Still here.” He mumbles as he draws in a shallow breath.

“Don’t do that!” I snap angrily, pressing my hand back on his wound a little harder, both as an ongoing attempt to stop the blood flow and as payback for that little scare.

Not scared. I’m not. Not really. He’ll be fine. Fearless has had a lot of close calls over the years—a lot of ‘almost’s and ‘should have’s and ‘we thought’s—but he’s always pulled through. He will this time.

We fall into another silence, this one being much less comforting. I try to focus on the rain, listening to it’s constant drumming on my shell, but Leo’s breathing drowns it all out. His shallow, rasped breathing that seems to be slowing with each passing minute.

“I know.”

“What?” I glance up to see him staring into the rain. Must be mumbling in delirium or some—

“I know… you don’t need me.“

My defences are up in the blink of an eye, warring with the guilt lancing through my veins. I meant it. I meant what I said. Leo gettin’ shot doesn’t change that. And I ain’t takin’ it back just because he’s spitting up blood.

I don’t need him. I don’t need his protection.

If he hadn’t been protecting me, he wouldn’t—

“You still... don’t get it.”

Anger peeks into my consciousness as I glance at him, trying to understand where he’s going with this. It’s a hell of a time to start throwing insults. “Get what?”

“That it’s not—“ He sucks in a breath and furrows his brow, holding in a cry of pain, I can only assume. “…that I—“ This time it’s a cough.

There’s something in his voice that I can’t pinpoint, but it makes my shoulders hunch in defence.

“Save the lecture for after we get home.” I say firmly, hoping he drops the subject so I don’t have to watch him suffer through another sentence, which he does. It looks like he’s trying to meditate, likely to help him handle the pain.

Sensei’s perfect student.

My mind keeps twisting back to what I shouted as my gut tells me I should apologize, but I can’t. The words get stuck in my mouth like peanut butter and refuse to form. Pride holds them back. Pride and fear.

Later. I can tell him later. After he we’re back at the lair and Donnie’s patched him up and he’s lectured me about runnin’ off like I did.

My phone rings, again saving me from drowning in my own noxious thoughts. It takes several tries to pick it up because it keeps slipping through the blood on my hands. “Donnie!”

“Wrong turtle, dude.”

Mikey. And he sounds out of breath. “Where the shell are you guys!?” My hand is shaking again because I can’t stop the dread that’s pumping through my veins.

“On our way. Donnie-boy finally managed to give the Dragons the slip by remote controlling the battleshell away from us.” The slight laugh that comes through the phone does wonders to put my nerves at ease. “You shoulda seen it, dude! It was like the greatest game of Race Cars ever!” He lets out another laugh and I let my hand unclench the phone ever so slightly. Leo gives me a look and I know what he wants me to ask.

“You guys alright?”

“All good, bruh. Just…” There’s a pause as he catches his breath again.

“Mikey?”

“Just tired.” He sounds like he’s climbing something—probably getting to the rooftops—as he lets out a tired sigh. “There were a lot of bad dude butts to kick.”

A jolt of guilt spikes through me as I turn away from Leo. We shoulda been there to help. “Where’s Don?”

“With me. We’re moving slow, but we’re on our way. Where’s—“ I hear Don shout something from far away—climbing up to meet Mikey, I assume—and suddenly there’s an audible gasp in my ear before Mikey’s loud voice cries through. “He’s what!? You said he was out, you didn’t say he was—“ Don’s talking again, argues for a minute before I hear Mikey, his voice shaking as he talks. “Don wants to know if the bleeding’s stopped?”

I glance at my hand on Leo’s stomach and fight the urge to curse. “No.”

“Is he still awake? Talking?” Panic rises in his voice with every question. “Dude, put him on! I wanna talk to—“

“Raph?” Don has the phone now. “You there?”

“He’s still awake and talking, but his speech is gettin’ slow.” I say without preamble.

“How’s his pulse?”

I hadn’t even thought to check. Annoyed at my sudden lack of hands, I place the phone on the ground a moment to press my fingers against his carotid. Leo takes the opportunity to pry for information.

“They… Ok?”

The weakness of his voice freaks me out so much I don’t even hear his question. I just try to keep my hand still as I pick the phone back up. “Weak and slow.”

I hear Don take a deep breath before talking again. “Ok. How’s his—“

“Get here and see for yourself!” I bark unwillingly. Didn’t mean to, but I can hear Don’s worry creeping through the phone and it’s puttin’ me on edge.

“We’ll be there soon. Just tell him to hang on. No passing out.”

“Don,” I pause, glancing down at the blood still flowing to the concrete. “Hurry.” Again, I hang up the phone and feel fear creep around me like a predator waiting to strike. “They’re alright. On their way now.”

Leo nods, clearly relieved, but his eyes don’t leave mine. He lays there, staring at me, and I feel like he’s reading into my soul. It makes me uncomfortable.

Makes me feel ashamed.

Where the shell are Don and Mikey?

“Raph… Don’t—“ He coughs, and I have to lift his head to let the blood drip down his lips. “Don’t… shut them out. They need…”

“What are you—?“ My blood feels like it turns to ice the minute our eyes meet. I swear I’m not breathing anymore. And it’s not because his pupils are going duller by the minute, or that his skin’s startin’ to look real pale. It’s ‘cause he has this looks on his face—this small smile and content gaze—that screams something I’m not ready to hear. Not ready to allow.

Acceptance.

Oh hell no.

“Leo, don’t you dare!” I growl, pressing harder on his wound to force the blood into submission. “Keep your eyes open!”

He takes in the shallowest breath I ever saw before whispering with that weak voice that sounds nothing like him. “…Trying…”

And I know. In that moment, I know. See it. Feel it.

But I refuse to allow it.

“Well try harder! Since when do you back away from a fight!?” My heart’s beatin’ a mile a minute as every curse word I know runs through my head in an attempt to keep the fear from spilling into my eyes. I can’t think straight. I don’t know what to do! Desperation is taking over as I press harder on the wound, probably making it worse instead of better. But Leo doesn’t so much as flinch which means he ain’t feeling the pain.

It’s all my—

He ain’t feeling, his breath is barely noticeable, and his eyes are—his eyes are closing! “I said keep ‘em open, dam—“ the word dies in my throat as his hand covers mine, so cold that it’s shaking. He’s smiling. Why the hell is he smiling!? He’s looking at me with that stupid smile and kind eyes. Kind and sad.

Almost guilty.

“Tell them…”

No. No, we ain’t doin’ this now! “Leo—!”

“…M’Sorry.” He whispers something haltingly with the last of his breath, but I’m panicking too much to really let it sink in.

Dammit, dammit, dammit!

“Don’t you—“ But his eyes close and his hand falls to the ground and I realize it wasn’t his hand that was shaking, it was mine. The rain seems to freeze in it’s downpour as suddenly everything goes completely silent. Still.

Empty.

What just happened?

“Leo?”

My mind is racing, thinking about the most random crap: what we had for breakfast this morning, how annoying Leo was during training, what TV show Mikey’d been watching before we left.

“Leo!?”

Why I was angry at Leo. Why I’m still angry at him. The asshole had no right jumpin’ into danger for me. He had no right!

“Leonardo!!”

The rain is suddenly deafening.

My eyes are wide, staring down at my brother’s slack face, hands still pressed against his stomach.

His chest ain’t moving. I can’t hear his breath anymore. He looks so peaceful.

I hate him.

“LEO!!”

I scream. As loud as I can. As long as I can. No words, no sense. Just raw, unfiltered, pain. Until my lungs burn and my throat is sore and my stomach threatens to heave.

This can’t be real. He can’t…

And suddenly I can’t feel anything any more.

My body goes numb, my brain shuts down, and all I can do is sit there, staring at my big brother, waiting for my heart to rip out of my chest.

“I know.”

I hate him.

“I know… you don’t need me.”

Hate his constant perfection. His impossibly high standards. His correcting and worrying.

Protecting.

“You still… don’t get it.”

Hate everything about him.

“That it’s not… That I—“

My hands are still shaking as I lower my forehead to my brother’s, nearly choking as I feel the chill of his skin against mine. “Leo…” His name is like acid on my tongue and I have to grit my teeth against the sheer pain it carries.

“Dammit…”

I can’t believe he’s…

He left…

“Dammit!”

I hate him.

He’s…

“DAMMIT!”

The rain’s pouring down my face. I feel it. Running down my cheeks, dripping from my chin onto Leo’s pale skin.

Has to be the rain.

This is all my…

This is…

Leo’s actually…

…Fault.

I hate myself.

Chapter Text

Everything was in place.

The books hadn’t moved from their shelves, lined in perfect order, not a crooked binding in sight. The weapons on the wall gleamed with polish, proudly displaying the care they received on a daily basis. The rug by the bed lay in a perfect circle, no tears or bumps or curled ends. The bed was made and tucked with hospital corners, pillows fluffed and awaiting their next use.

Perfect.

Just the way Leo liked it.

“It’s creepy. A room should look like it’s been lived in, you know? Yours looks like one of those fake bedrooms from the IKEA catalogues.”

“I like things clean.” Leo re-tucked the corner of the bed sheet Mikey had intentionally pulled out to give a messier look to the room. “You should try it. Maybe start by cleaning your room more than once a decade.”

Mikey picked up a book from the organized shelf, eyeing it warily. “Dude, even your books are too organized. Your clothes are put away, you can clearly see the floor, and there’s not a spec of dust on any of these shelves! How do you live like this!? It’s barbaric!” He turned in time to see his brother’s good-humoured eye-roll, and smiled in victory. “I’m just sayin’, you could stand to be a little less perfect. It wouldn’t kill you to, I don’t know, relax for a few minutes.”

Leo snatched the book from Mikey’s hand and placed it back in it’s spot on the shelf. “I relax. How do you think I read all these books?”

“Studying isn’t relaxing.” Mikey corrected. He saw the look in his brother’s eyes like he was actually considering Mikey’s words.

After a brief pause, Leo finally sighed heavily, shifting his foot to kick the rug at the foot of his bed so it was scrunched into a weird pile. “Satisfied?”

Mikey glanced from the rug to Leo’s expecting face and back. “…That’s it?”

“Baby steps.” Leo ruffled Mikey’s head as he walked by. “Come on, it’s time for my other relaxing activity.”

“What?”

Leo grinned. “Training.”

The younger turtle groaned, shaking his head. “Dude, does the term ‘perfectionist’ mean anything to you?”

“I skewed the rug, didn’t I?”

Mikey stepped beside his brother to place a hand on his shoulder, a mock-disappointment in his features. “Oh young padewan, so much to learn you have.”

Leo rolled his eyes once more, sighing a light chuckle that made the younger turtle smile in victory again. “Let’s go, Obi-Wan.”

“Yoda!” Mikey threw his hands up in an exasperated gesture. “So much to learn…”

Mikey loved making Leo smile. And laugh! Making Leo laugh was the greatest! He was the most challenging target of his brothers, by a long shot. Don would laugh at some of his jokes or pranks, and Raph would laugh if Don was the victim of said joke or prank. Even Casey and April were easy targets. But Leo… Leo would smile, but not laugh. An actual burst of amusement from their leader was rare. Very rare. But when it happened, Mikey felt like he was on top of the world! It was like mastering a difficult kata. Made him feel accomplished. And it was always nice to see Leo actually relax for a minute. He was always so serious. So worried all the time.

Worried for everyone else.

Taking a timid step into the room, Mikey looked around and breathed in the smell. Candles and incense. Leo’s room always smelled like candles and incense. It smelled like the dojo, minus the sweaty body odour. It gave the room an air of gentleness. Calm. Like a spa or a sauna.

It felt like safety.

Mikey suddenly clamped his teeth on a choked breath. His lungs were like bricks, grating against his chest and scratching holes in his throat. He walked to the bed and looked at the book on the nightstand; The Art of War. Leo’d read it before. Mikey knew because his brother had read some of it to help him sleep one time after a nightmare.

Leo was always nice to Mikey about nightmares.

All his siblings were. They might jab him every once in a while if a nightmare sounded particularly ridiculous, but none of them would ever turn him away if he was scared. Ever.

But Leo somehow could tell without Mikey waking him up. There’d been several times over the years when Mikey would jolt awake, sweating and panting and terrified out of his mind, only to find Leo sitting on his bed, pulling him into a comforting hug before he even had a chance to panic. To this day, Mikey still had no idea how Leo did it.

Now he’d never know.

Reaching for the book, Mikey was about to pick it up when a voice in his head made him hesitate.

‘Leo would be upset if he knew I was in here rooting through his stuff. Especially if I lost his page.’

The idea brought a strangled laugh from Mikey’s throat. What a thought! What a stupid, stupid thought! Leo wouldn’t care! Leo wouldn’t be upset!

Because Leo couldn’t care about anything anymore. Couldn’t care about his stuff, about his privacy, about his training or the missions.

Couldn’t care about his family. His brothers.

Mikey.

Leo couldn’t be there to care about Mikey anymore. To care for him.

Because Leo was gone. And he wasn’t ever coming back.

Mikey choked on his own breath as a pain like a switchblade to his stomach crawled through his whole upper body. He felt sick. He was totally gonna hurl all over Leo’s stuff. Leo would be—

Wouldn’t care. Couldn’t. ‘Cause Leo was gone.

Forever.

Mikey collapsed to the floor, his arms resting on his brother’s bed as his hands gripped the blankets like they were the only thing tethering him to the world. There was a ringing in his ears that drowned everything out, but he knew he was crying. Screaming. Hot tears charged down his cheeks in an unending stampede as his voice threw out whatever sounds it could to try and stop the pain.

Make it stop. Make it go away.

Bring him back.

Leo!

“Over here, Don!” Mikey called as he came into view of his two eldest brothers on the roof. Leo was lying prone on the ground, with Raph curled over him, heads touching as Raph held a hand on Leo’s stomach. Mikey was just about to make a perfectly witty comment about his older brothers’ odd position when the wind brought the smell of blood to his nostrils with such power, it almost knocked him backward. His eyes suddenly snapped open, darting around to find the source and landing on the blood pooling around Leo’s mid section and trickling away with the rain. His voice became abruptly terrified. “LEO!”

Not even waiting to see if Don was behind him, Mikey jumped to the roof, practically falling over beside his brother to grip his hand. His breath hitched immediately; Leo’s hand was freezing! And his skin looked like he’d been dipped in bleach! “Dude, what—“ The question dropped away before he could get it out.

Leo’s eyes were closed.

And for some reason, Mikey felt his body going numb. No… No Don said it would be OK. He said Leo would fine. He said there was nothing to—

Mikey nearly jumped when Don kneeled beside him. “Dude, you said he was fine—“

“Raph, move your hand.”

Don’s voice was calm, that had to mean he had a plan. He knew how to fix this. Leo was gonna be OK. And Mikey clung to that hope with every fibre of his being.

“Raph!” Don finally managed to pry his brother’s hand away from the wound on Leo’s stomach and the fearful breath he choked on made Mikey grip the icy hand he held tighter.

“You can help him, right Don? You can…” His eyes were drawn to his second eldest brother as Raph finally lifted his head from Leo’s. The look on his face froze Mikey’s heart.

No…

“L-Leo…” Mikey could feel himself shaking. “Don, you have to do something! Leo’s not breathing! He’s bleeding and he’s not breathing! You have to—“

Don’s hand gripped his shoulder and sent a chill down Mikey’s spine. Why weren’t they doing anything!? Why weren’t they moving!?

Why wasn’t Leo breathing…?

“No…” Mikey pulled away from Don to reach up and grab his brother’s shoulders, ignoring how icy cold they felt, and shake him. “Leo, wake up! This isn’t funny, dude! Open your eyes!”

“Mikey…”

“NO! He’s not dead! He can’t be!“ How could they just give up like that!? They had to try something! “Leo! Leo, open your eyes! Come on!” Everything in Mikey was in denial. Because this couldn’t be real. Couldn’t! Leo always made it out—every time he got hurt, he always got better. Always! He’d never… He couldn’t…

Oh God…

“LEO!” It felt as though something in his chest broke, and suddenly Mikey felt… everything. Pain so intense, he couldn’t think. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe!

He cried.

His shoulders quaked as he gripped his brother’s frozen hand, laying his head on Leo’s unmoving chest, and he cried. His mind still shouted in denial, but his heart kept ripping apart at the seams.

Leo was dead. He was really gone…

Mikey didn’t even feel Don curl around him in a tight hug. He couldn’t feel Leo’s hand in his anymore. Could only feel the pain in his chest where his heart should be.

And the tears. He couldn’t stop crying. Couldn’t stop…

“LEO!!!”

The same tears as on the roof were running down Mikey’s cheeks again as he gripped Leo’s bedding and buried his face in the blankets. The pain in his chest was still there. It’d been a month since Leo…

And Mikey still felt like he’d been taken apart and put together with pieces missing.

Another surge of anguish had Mikey burying his head further into the blankets, making it harder to breathe. He just wanted to curl up and never feel anything ever again. It all hurt too much. From Leo’s perfect bedroom to the extra chair at the kitchen table, to the space on the couch where Leo liked to read. It all screamed their loss. Screamed it so loud it was impossible not to hear, impossible to ignore, impossible to block out.

Mikey cried even louder, feeling his lungs grasp for air with every breath as his chest did it’s best to pry itself open through his plastron.

“Leo!” He was gone. His leader. His defender. His role model.

His big brother was dead. And the world somehow expected him to just move past it and keep living.

Mikey suddenly couldn’t breathe at all. There was too much! Too much pain, too much memory, too much desperation! Where was Leo!? Why wasn’t he here!? How could he have—Why did he have to—

A hand to his shoulder snapped Mikey’s head up, frightened eyes darting as his lungs burned with protest.

“Breathe, Michelangelo. Deep breaths.” Splinter inhaled fully, watching carefully as his son copied his movements, taking one slow breath after another until the color returned to his face.

The two sat in silence as Mikey continued to inhale and exhale slowly, trying to stop the tears still pouring down his face. When he finally spoke, it was rough and grated, like he’d been screaming for hours. Maybe he had. “It’s not fair, Sensei. He wasn’t supposed to… He always had a plan. He always made it out. Why did he...”

Words wouldn’t form anymore past the lump in his throat, and Mikey felt his panic rising again. Splinter drew his son’s gaze and took a moment to breathe together once more.

“Leo’s dead!” Mikey cried, falling into his father’s arms as fresh tears leapt down his cheeks. “It’s not fair! He’s gone… he’s really—it’s not fair! Why him!? Why Leo!? He never did anything but help people, why’d he have to—“ A sob pierced through his lips as all his emotions poured out at once, choking the life from him. “I want him back, Sensei… I want Leo back! We can’t keep going without him! I don’t want to! We need—we can’t just—How could he—“

“Hush…” Splinter held his son close against his chest, caressing the dome of his head to calm his breathing.

Mikey wrapped his arms around his Father, sobbing into his robe. “…he’s dead… he’s really dead…”

Splinter closed his eyes to the grief crawling from his heart to his throat and focused on his youngest child, holding on tightly. He said not a word, but his silence said everything.

I miss him, too.

Chapter Text

“Behind you, Don!”

The tall turtle spun quickly, but wasn’t fast enough to get his bō up in time to—

“Ah!”

The thug was suddenly flung into the wall, courtesy of an impressive kick by the turtle in blue. Don could only blink in surprise at how fast his brother had moved. He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Thanks Leo.”

The elder nodded, quickly scanning the room for any remaining enemies. His eyes landed on Mikey who knocked the last of the thugs unconscious.

“Looks like that’s all of them.” Don noted triumphantly.

“For now.” Leo glared at the thug by his feet, noting the phone jutting from his jean pocket. “Even if they didn’t send for reinforcements, there’s bound to be more on the way to check their shipment. We’ll have to move fast.” Sheathing his swords, he glanced around the room once more. “Where’s Raph?”

“Took off after that group that ran down the alley.” Mikey piped in, flipping over the crates of weaponry to land beside his brothers. “Probably beating them into a puddle of purple-dragon mush by now. He seemed pretty cranky. Or… more so than usual.”

Don saw Leo frown as he followed Mikey’s gaze out the back door. The irritated sigh that split their leader’s lips almost made Don smile; it wouldn’t be a mission if Raph wasn’t doing something to annoy Leo.

“I told him not to leave.”

The worry in his tone drained the smile from Don’s face. “You think it was a trap?”

“Or at least a distraction. They may be trying to separate us until reinforcements arrive.” Leo sighed again. “He’ll never learn.”

A large clap of thunder made Mikey jump, grabbing Leo’s arm in mock-fright. “Dude… I think Raph heard you! He’s sending the rain to smite you!”

Leo didn’t seem to notice Mikey’s quip, shaking his brother off as he turned to the door. “You two stay here in case the Dragons return.” The irritation in his voice was unmasked. “I’ll go get Raph.”

“Leo,” Don stopped his brother, peering uneasily at him. “You sure you don’t want help?” Something was clearly bothering him. Whether it was a gut feeling or a dangerous vibe, one thing was for certain, Leo felt something was off. And Leo’s instincts were never to be ignored.

If Raph was in trouble, Don wanted to be there.

But the leader shook his head. “I’m sure. Just make sure Mikey doesn’t touch the weapons and accidently blow himself up.”

Both brothers looked to their youngest who was quick to drop the semi-automatic he’d been holding, folding his hands behind his back in innocence. “I was only looking!”

Don rolled his eyes.

“I’ll be quick. Start loading the weapons into the Shellraiser. And Don,” The purple-masked turtle turned, noting the hint of worry in his leader’s demeanour. “Keep your cell on. If trouble shows up, call immediately. Got it?”

“I know.” Don nodded. He watched his brother turn away reluctantly and couldn’t tell who it was the leader was worried about, them or Raph. But either way, something was up.

Staring at his brother’s shell as he left, Don shrugged his shoulders. If it were something they needed to be worried about, Leo’d have said something. For now…

Leo could handle it.

A tremble overtook Don’s body, forcing him to pull away from his needle so as not to damage anything. He couldn’t stop picturing Leo’s shell as he’d walked away. Couldn’t stop thinking about how odd it had been to hear Leo worried. But how could he have known Leo would be…

He’d felt something was off. But it was the tiniest sliver of a feeling. A slight twinge buried in the back of his mind that was no more worrisome or noticeable than the desire to blink.

How could he have...

Don shook his head. It was foolish to think of such things. What happened, happened. There was nothing they could do to change it now.

Nothing he could do.

Nothing he could have…

“Mikey, this way!” Don pulled his younger brother down beside him, hiding from the Purple Dragons hot on their heels.

“Dude, we’re sittin’ ducks down—“

“Wait for it.” Don pressed a button on his wrist and suddenly the battle shell roared to life, drawing their attackers towards it. Don quickly input a course and the vehicle was off.

“Don’t let ‘em get away!”

There was a bustle of noise as the thugs ran for their trucks and bikes, darting out after the shellraiser at full speed.

Mikey and Don waited a moment, taking a second to breathe before sneaking out the back.

“Dude, where are we going? They only left three guys, we can totally take them!”

“Leo’s hurt, we have to get to Raph.”

“What? Is he okay?”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine, but I need to get there and see for myself.” Not a lie, but not the whole truth. And fortunately, Mikey didn’t ask for any other details. Don silently breathed a sigh of relief; the last thing he needed was a hysterical brother on his hands. He needed them both to stay calm while he figured out a solution.

Leo might be dying…

“Let’s go.” Don said quickly, running away from that last thought. His mind was rushing through everything he knew about stomach wounds, and none of it was offering answers he wanted to hear. If the bullet hit anything vital…

They had to hurry.

“Right behind you, D-Man!”

But both were moving sluggish. Their battle had been intense, leaving them exhausted and injured enough to impede their regular agility. Don pressed them onward, his fear growing with every tick of his watch. They were moving too slow. From the sounds of it, Leo’d lost a lot of blood, which didn’t give Don much time to stitch him up by the time they got him back to the lair. And that’s not even considering what might be happening if his liver or kidneys had been hit.

Faster. Get there faster.

He had Mikey call Raph for an update, and from the sounds of it, Leo was in bad shape, and Don couldn’t shake the fear scratching at his calm exterior.

“Get here and see for yourself!” Raph’s voice barked angrily through the phone.

“We’ll be there soon. Just tell him to hang on. No passing out.” Couldn’t let himself panic. He could figure this out. Get there, see the problem, find the solution. It’s what he did best.

Mikey shot Don a pleading, betrayed look. “You said he was fine!”

“He will be.” Don said adamantly. Tossing the cell back to his brother, he readied himself for a hard run. “Come on.”

But the growing dread in Don’s veins had been right. By the time they made it to their brothers, Leo was already passed out. Mikey was by Leo’s side instantly, holding his hand, and Raph had a palm pressing on the wound with his head bowed to Leo’s.

For whatever reason, Don paused to take the scene in.
And suddenly couldn’t move.

He didn’t know why—the way Raph looked as he held their brother, or maybe the thick smell of blood in the rain—but in that moment he knew.

Leo was already gone. They were too late.

Denial slammed into his mind so hard, he could almost feel his logic being forced to the back of his skull. Take a look. Maybe he’s still… maybe there’s still a chance.

“Raph, move your hand.” He finally said, kneeling beside Mikey and ignoring the pleading look on his face.

But Raph didn’t move.

Don tried forcing his hand away, but it was firmly in place. He couldn’t see the wound to— “Raph!” And finally he shoved the appendage aside, swallowing his fear when blood squelched over Leo’s plastron at the release of pressure. Don couldn’t even see the wound itself through all the gushing liquid. He wiped the rain from his eyes—was it the rain? When had it started?—and did his best to inspect the bullet hole. But between the weather, the lack of light, and the fact that his heart was pounding too loudly for him to focus on anything else, he couldn’t find much.

Not that he needed to. He knew the truth. Knew it almost from the moment he’d gotten Raph’s phone call.

There was nothing they could have done.

Acceptance dropped like a brick to the pit of his stomach, nearly making him gag. He finally looked up from the blood to see Raph moving away from Leo’s head, an emptiness to his eyes that chilled Don’s bones.

His attention was drawn back to his youngest brother when the pleading started—or continued, Don hadn’t really heard what Mikey’d been saying before—and it was all he could do to keep himself from actually obeying. He wanted to do something. Wanted to have an answer.

He placed his hand on Mikey’s shoulder, and it was like he’d punched his brother in the face with the way his eyes dripped with betrayal. Clearly, the younger’s mind was still in the heavy throws of denial, because before Don could blink, Mikey was shaking Leo’s shoulders begging him to wake up.

Don waited patiently. Mikey was usually slower because he felt things more potently than the rest of them.

Give it a minute. Let it sink in.

This was going to burry him.

The minute Mikey started crying, Don’s arms were instinctively wrapping around him, trying to keep him together.

Focus on Mikey. Don’t let him break. Focus on…

Leo…

The bullet must have hit something. Probably the liver. Must have been. There was a lot of blood for such a small bullet. Such a small piece of metal that held such power… that took down a whole person. A whole life.

Leo…

Don felt the rain on his cheeks, hot and blinding. There was a pang in his heart, like a shard of glass was attempting to move through his ventricles, scratching and scraping them open as it went. Is this what dying felt like? Is this what…

Leo…

Leo was dead.

Don stared down at his eldest brother as a tremble he was unable to still radiated through his body. He pulled Mikey closer and held him tight, hoping somehow the contact would quell the pain.

It didn’t.

Nothing ever would.

Don’s hand began to quake again, forcing him to set his instruments down. He took a deep breath, attempting to steady himself. Focus on the task. The pain will leave, just focus. Breathe.

Another deep inhale had him immersing back into his work. His magnifying glasses perched on his face, Don finished with the last of the stitches, stepping back to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. He’d spent the past two days meticulously combing over his brother’s body, making sure every scratch was bandaged, every cut stitched, and every crack in his plastron was repaired to perfection.

They would burry him out in Northampton. Not because it was Leo’s favourite spot or because he’d asked to be laid to rest there, but April thought they’d have more solitude to mourn. A thoughtful suggestion, Don felt. April was always thoughtful.

Honestly, if they could figure out a way, Don would have liked to burry Leo somewhere in Japan. Near where Splinter’s clan used to live. Leo had always wanted to visit Japan…

Nausea rumbled in Don’s stomach as he quickly turned away from the table—and the thought—to wash his hands. Whatever the case, Leo was ready for burial.

Leo was… no. No, this wasn’t Leo.

Walking back to the table and staring down at the body, Don felt his nausea grow.

This wasn’t his brother. This wasn’t the sibling who would put him to bed at ungodly hours of the morning when he’d fallen asleep at his computer. This wasn’t the turtle who would help him collect the junk and scraps he needed for his tinkering. This wasn’t the one who sat by his bed every time he got sick, just to make sure he stayed warm through the night.

This wasn’t Leo. This was a corpse. A remnant. Nothing more than an empty shell.

A drop of water fell to Leo’s cheek, drawing Don’s gaze to his face. Where had that—

…He looked so peaceful. So vulnerable. It was obscenely rare to see Leo without his guarded expression, even when he was happy. Don could only think of a handful of times he’d seen it, and most of them were when Leo was injured or unconscious. Like the time Don was allowed to drive Casey’s car up at Northampton and Leo fell asleep in the back seat. Or this past summer when they were enjoying some downtime at the farmhouse and all four of them fell asleep in the sun, curled up on one another like a dog pile (or ‘cuddle-pile’ as Mikey had dubbed it, much to Raph’s chagrin).

Leo deserved more moments like that. He deserved to live a happy life.

He deserved to live.

As gently as possible, Don reached out and wiped the droplet from his brother’s face. His skin was so cold… and entirely the wrong shade of green. Leo’s skin was always a deep green, bringing out the blue of his eyes. Eyes that would never open again.

Another water droplet fell. And another. Were those tears? Why was he crying? There was no sense in crying over this. It was a body. Just a corpse. Not Leo.

Leo was dead.

Don’s breath hitched as his legs buckled beneath him, sinking him to his knees. His head bowed to rest against his brother’s as the world around him faded away into irrelevance. The tears came swifter and swifter until Don no longer knew if he was breathing anymore.

Just crying. Silently crying. And begging the universe to give his brother back.

“I’m sorry Leo…” If only he’d been faster. If only he’d gotten there quicker. Maybe he could have… “I’m so sorry.”

No more logic. No more distractions.

Only tears. Quiet, desperate, tears.

Chapter Text

“Where else could we take him? There aren’t any parks secluded enough that we could burry him around here. And we are not burying him in the sewers.” Don was adamant about that. It may be home, but it was still a sewer. Leo deserved something better…

“But the farmhouse is so far! We’d almost never see him!” Mikey’s pleas reeked of despair. His pain was still too raw to even attempt to hide. “I don’t want him to be so far away! He’d want to be close, to keep an eye on us…”

Don sighed when Mikey’s voice broke, having a hard time distancing himself from his own heartache. He couldn’t move to comfort his brother, could only watch as Splinter draped an arm around their youngest’s quaking shoulders.

“Your brother will always be with us, my son. There is no distance far enough to keep his spirit from remaining here.” He placed a gentle hand over Mikey’s heart.

“I know…” Mikey sucked in a deep breath, trying to get his tears under control. “I just… I don’t want him to be alone up there…”

Don, still unable to move, forced his way through the metal shard of grief piercing his chest to speak. “We’ll still keep him close. Maybe we can put a picture up in the dojo…” The idea of even walking in there made his gut churn, but Don swallowed his emotions. “Then you can see him whenever you want.”

Mikey wiped a hand across his eyes to look blearily at his brother. “He’d like that, wouldn’t he.”

Don could only nod, not able to break through the lump in his throat as he forced the tears in his eyes to remain where they were.

Mikey sniffled, leaning slightly into the comfort of his father’s hug. “Ok… when will we move him?”

“Tonight.” Don cleared his throat, pushing his glasses up and turning to head for his lab, grateful the conversation was over. “April and Casey have a truck ready. They’ll be here after dark.”

Don leaned on the exam table, staring down at the black patchwork of material. It was scraped together from all kinds of fabric he’d found over the years, and took him two weeks to sew. He’d been planning on using it to cart a specimen from stockman’s lab back to the lair almost a decade ago, when a mutagen virus had been spreading across the city and he was getting desperate to find a cure. Never ended up needing it, so he was going to throw it out, but in their line of work, one never knew when something might be needed. Always better to be prepared, as Leo always—

Never dreamed it would cover his brother’s corpse.

A mournful wine bubbled at the back of his throat, but Don coughed it away when he heard a knock at the door.

“Donnie?”

Mikey’s meek voice barely registered as Don was suddenly focused on patting his emotions down. His younger sibling was in enough pain, he didn’t need to see his brother break down into tears. “The door’s open.” Mikey crept through the door with a mug in his hand, steam wafting from the black liquid inside, and immediately froze at the sight of the black bag on the table. Don watched as his brother’s eyes stared for several long minutes before finding the floor. The tall turtle walked to take the mug, blocking Mikey’s view of the bag. “Coffee?”

Mikey blinked rapidly, nodding his head as he tried to reign in his pounding heart. “April made it. Though you might want some.”

“They’re here? Then we should—“

“They said we should wait a bit. Something about traffic still being heavy.”

“Oh.” Don could feel the weight of his brother’s grief with every word he spoke, but had nothing to comfort him with, save keeping him from having to look at the corpse. A heavy silence stretched as both stood motionless, unable to find words and unable to move.

“I wanna see him.”

The adamancy in Mikey’s voice jarred Don from his thoughts. He shook his head. “Mikey, it’s… it’s not a good idea.”

“I wanna see him. Just one last time. I wanna see Leo—“

“It’s not Leo anymore, Mikey.” Don furrowed his brows as he fought to tamp down the pain that was edging out in his voice. He placed the coffee on the counter as he drew in a calming breath. “It’s not Leo… it’s a corpse. An empty body. It’s discoloured and drained of life and it’s not Leo. Leo’s gone…”

He peeked over at Mikey to see his shoulders hunch up and his head bow in sorrow. “I know…” It looked like he was shaking. “I just… I never got to say goodbye…”

A sigh blew past Don’s lips as he fought between his protective and his compassionate instincts. Mikey was sure to have nightmares… But that wasn’t reason enough to deny him closure.

“Make it quick.” He finally resigned, walking over to the table. His hand hesitated over the zipper, staring his baby brother down once more. Mikey apparently knew what he was going to say.

“I know, Don. I’m ready.” Or as ready as he’d ever be to see the corpse of his brother.

Don nodded, slowly peeling the zipper down and revealing the face and neck. He turned away immediately, unwilling to look at this carcass again. This emptiness that had once been his leader…

“Leo…” Mikey breathed the name in broken reverence, like it was a piece of fine china that would break if uttered too loudly. He stepped closer, repulsed by the color of his brother’s skin. It was bleached and greying, almost unrecognizable. “…His mask’s still on.”

“Sensei’s idea.” Don replied quietly, still refusing to look at the body. “Said it was an honor for a warrior to be buried with his armor.”

“Honor, huh?” Mikey touched the tail of the bandana, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. “He’d like that.” A powerful thrumming began in his chest, stopping his breath as he tried to hold in his tears. “You deserve it, Leo. You’re the most honorable guy I know.” Placing the bandana tails down with more gentleness than he’d ever displayed, Mikey stared at the paling face of his eldest brother. “We’ll miss you, bro. We… We really…” A knot had formed in his chest and travelled all the way to his throat, making it almost impossible to talk. But he had to say it. “We love you. A lot. And I… I hope you…” Tears started tracking down his cheeks as his body shook to try and relieve the pressure of emotions building in his chest.

Suddenly Don’s arms were around him, pulling him close.

“He knows, Mikey. He knows.”

“You think they’re alright back there? Maybe we should stop for a rest and check on them.”

“We’ve only been on the road fourty minutes, Babe. We’re barely out of the city.”

April turned to glance over her shoulder. “But it’s cold back there. They might need—“

“They have the space heater and plenty of blankets.”

“But what if they—“

“Babe,” Casey’s free hand went to her knee, his voice as gentle as possible. “They’re riding with the body of a brother their about to go bury. They’re not okay. And stoppin’ for snacks ain’t gonna fix that.”

April sighed, a slight tremble on her lips as grief peeked into her heart. Casey moved his hand to grip hers and she held on tight, wishing that squeezing hard enough would make the pain go away. A quiet sob escaped her lips before she was able to tamp down the rest of her sorrow. No time for tears right now. She had to be strong. For the turtles, for Splinter.

For Leo. She owed him at least that much.

Casey rubbed his thumb over her hand, comforting as best he could while he drove.

“I miss him.” April whispered, her head bowed with her chin to her chest as she breathed deep. “It’s only been two days and I already…”

“Me too.” Casey’s other hand tightened around the wheel. “Me too…”

The next two hours were spent in almost perfect silence as the group left the bustle of New York and started driving through the mountains. It was still dark out, but the sun would be in the sky by the time they made it to the farmhouse.

Stopping for gas, April futily offered the family food, knowing full well they’d all refuse. She left a bag of snacks in the back in case they changed their mind, but didn’t expect to find it empty when they stopped again.

As she closed the doors to the trailer, her eyes clipped the black body bag stretching from Splinter’s lap that everyone was sitting around. She quickly shut the door, taking a moment to find her breath again.

Leo…

Tears pricked her eyes once more, but she wiped them away and found her seat up front, waiting for Casey to finish filling the tank.

He hopped up to his spot, glancing at April’s forlorn face as he buckled his seatbelt. “How they doin’?”

April could only shake her head as she waited for the movement of the truck to distract her from the pain in her chest.

It was miles before she was able to speak again, glancing at the trees as they faded one by one. “Has he spoken to you?”

Casey blinked, trying to find her train of thought. “Who?”

“Raph.”

His grip on the steering wheel tightened. “No. Hasn’t said a word to anyone, far as I know.”

April took a moment to process that. “He feels responsible…”

“He’s the only one who knows what happened, but he ain’t talkin’.” Casey breathed out his frustration.

“Do you think he’ll be alright?”

There was a pause as Casey pictured the emptiness in his friend’s eyes when they’d first found out. He took another calming breath, suddenly craving a wall to punch, before finally admitting, “Honestly Red, I don’t know.”

April folded her arms, sinking deeper into the seat.

It had all happened so fast…

“You’re late. The guys are definitely gonna be home by now.”

April closed the door to her apartment with her foot as Casey came to relieve her of the grocery bags in her hands. “I know, I know! I couldn’t catch a taxi, and the train was down, so I had to walk all the way from China town.”

“China town? What were you—“ Casey answered his own question as he unloaded the groceries, pulling a tin of tea from the bag. “Ah. For Splinter?”

“Leo’d mentioned they were running low, so I thought I’d bring some over tonight.”

April stripped her backpack off, happy to be rid of the heavy load, when her cell began to ring.

“If that’s Mikey complainin’ that we’re late with the pizza, remember that it wasn’t my fault.”

“For once.” April shot her boyfriend a cheshire grin that made him chuckle before she finally answered her phone.

“Hello? Hey Donnie, I’m sorry we’re late. Casey was running errands and lost track of the time.” A wadded up grocery bag was chucked at her head as she tried not to laugh. “We’ll be there as soon as—“

Casey was preparing another grocery bag ball when he saw April’s smile suddenly disappear. Trouble. He moved closer to see if he could hear the other end of the conversation.

“Donnie, what’s wrong.” April could feel the turtle’s brokenness through the phone as potently as if she’d been smacked across the face with it. “We’re leaving right now. Donnie, what happened? Is everyone alright?” She paused, listening to her friend on the other end with worry etching itself into her bones. “Ok. We’ll be there soon.”

Casey came beside her, touching her shoulder as she gripped the phone with all her might. “Red?”

“Something’s wrong.”

“What is it?”

“He wouldn’t tell me. Said it’s better to hear it in person.”

Casey could feel the light tremble beginning in April’s body and held both her shoulders for support. “We don’t know anything yet. No use worrying until we get the whole picture.”

“You didn’t hear him. Casey, I’ve never heard Don sound so broken. Never.” She looked him in the eyes, her own shimmering with sudden dread. “Something is very wrong.”

Casey was struck by her earnest fear. His brow furrowed and he grabbed his coat, his clubs, and his mask. “Let’s go.”

They made it to the lair in record time, concern adding speed to their journey. As they stepped through the turnstile entrance, April’s feet suddenly froze. She gripped Casey’s hand as a shiver ran down her spine.

The whole room felt… heavy. Thick. With what, April couldn’t tell, but whatever it was pressed against her chest, making it hard to breathe.

“Guys?” Casey called, tugging April along with him as he stepped further into the lair. “What’s going on? You got us all worked up over here.”

A minute passed that felt like an hour before Don finally stepped out from the med bay.

“Don, where’s every—?” The question ended the minute Casey took in his friend’s face. April was wrong… broken just wasn’t a strong enough word for what Don looked like. His eyes were red, his cheeks stained with tears, and his whole body looked like it wanted to collapse into itself and die. “…Don?” Casey immediately clenched his hands into fists, anger rising at whatever or whoever dared to hurt his family this way.

April stepped forward to touch the tall turtle’s shoulders. “Donnie… Donnie, what happened? Is everyone OK?” She asked as gently as her panicking emotions would allow. But when he didn’t answer, her fear got the best of her. She shook him slightly. “Donnie! Where are the others? What hap—?” Her mind reeled when he finally looked her in the eyes. So much pain… he’d never looked like this before. Dread consumed her as he opened his mouth to speak. All it took was one word. A name.

“Leo…” It barely made it past his lips before Don’s sobs could no longer be contained. He bit his lower lip to get a hold of himself, but April wasn’t paying attention anymore. Nor was Casey.

Practically tripping over themselves as they rushed to the med bay doors, dread settled like an avalanche, cold and unyielding as they came upon the rest of the family: Mikey was crying with his face buried in Leo’s arm as Splinter caressed his shell, his face a wash of barely contained emotions.

And on the table, motionless, pale, and covered in blood, lay Leonardo.

“Leo…” April couldn’t move. Her every nerve screamed to go to the body, find a pulse, and prove this was all a nightmare. But she couldn’t feel her legs. Everything was going completely numb as her brain tried frantically to grasp what was going on.

Casey cursed under his breath, eyes wide as he moved slowly to the table. This was impossible. Leo was the smartest fighter he knew, there’s no way some thug or soldier was able to bring him down. No way…

He touched Leo’s forearm and pulled back in surprise; his skin was freezing! It… It couldn’t be… His eyes found their way to the hole in Leo’s stomach, glaring in sudden understanding. Some coward with a gun had killed Leo from afar. Shot him. Skulked in a corner and waited for his chance to attack.

The coward. Didn’t even have the decency to face Leo head on.

“Bastard.” Casey cursed again, his hands curling back into fists at his side as his body trembled with rage.

Behind him, a gasp erupted from April’s lips as the shock finally began to wear off. Her legs turned to jelly, sinking her to her knees as she covered her mouth. “No… No!”

Casey shouted, overturning a tray of tools and revelling in the loud clatter as they scattered across the floor. His shoulders heaved up and down as his lungs dragged in fist-fulls of air, rage seeping from every pore. Casey closed his eyes, hands tightening ever more. “AAAAAAH!” He shouted again, trying to shut out the pain.

April felt tears spring from her eyes as she sat on her knees, fixated on the cold body that had once been her friend. Her brother.

“Leonardo…”

April curled her arms tighter around herself, trying to rid her body of the fear seeping from the memory.

How could this have happened?

Why? Why this family? Why now?

Why Leo?

She turned to stare out the window of the truck, watching the trees passing by as rainclouds set in overhead. Several droplets rolled down her cheeks.

Why…?

Chapter Text

It was the silence. Amplified everything. Hurt, loss, denial, anger. Everything. Grief dripped from every nook and cranny of the old farmhouse, drowning April in it’s current. She wanted to talk, to break the silence and at least attempt to heal the pain, but her fear stopped her. Fear of saying something wrong. Fear of hurting everyone further.

Fear of facing her own heartache.

But the silence!

It was the weather. It was too cold for burying Leo, the ground was still too frozen. It was supposed to warm up significantly by morning tomorrow. Less than twenty-four hours. Then they could break the silence. Then they could face their anguish. Then they could burry…

She prayed it would snow tomorrow.

A soft mumbling from the main room caught her attention, and April followed it out of the kitchen. She brought a tray of sandwiches—no one would eat them, but she couldn’t help but try—and found Don sitting on the couch, some sort of gizmo in pieces on the coffee table in front of him, with a string of murmured confusion pouring from his mouth. She set the tray on an empty piece of table. “Don? You alright?”

“It just doesn’t make sense.”

“What does—“

“I’ve taken apart and retested every circuit and they’re all functioning properly, but when I put them together, the drone won’t work.”

April paused a moment, looking at the pieces displayed on the table like a jigsaw puzzle. He certainly was being meticulous about one little drone. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You’re always—“

“I can’t. I can’t fix it. I’ve tried everything—everything I can think of—but it’s not—nothing’s working. Even when I put it together—it must be missing a piece. I can’t fix it. I can’t…”

April saw his hands begin to tremble and immediately held them in her own. “Donnie…”

“It’s nothing. Nothing… Nothing I could do…”

She watched his eyes close and his throat tense and knew he was holding in whatever well of despair was clawing to get out. But the only thing she could think of to do was place her hand on his cheek and whisper words she was sure he knew but would never believe. “It’s not your fault. You did everything you… It’s not your fault.”

“I…” Don stuttered, his hands releasing the parts he’d been clasping, letting them fall to the floor in a broken heap. “I should have… I’m supposed to… but I couldn’t…” His eyes fell past her to the floor, staring at the fractured pieces of his drone.

“He’s been shot.”

Pieces. Broken. Too shattered to fix.

“Don, hurry.”

Something missing. Wouldn’t work without it. If only he could—

April’s arms were suddenly wrapped around him, tears streaking her face and falling on his arm.

“It’s OK, Don.”

Not her tears. His. He was crying again. Why was he—?

“We’re here.”

Her voice was shaking. Or was that still his hands? Why were his hands shaking?

The drone. Pieces on the floor. He should pick them up. Fix them.

Couldn’t… Couldn’t get there in—

April held Don closer as his body shook even harder, her own tears springing to the brim.

“We’ll get through this together.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Don stepped forward, glaring at his older brother’s shell.

“Out.”

Raph didn’t explain himself further, forcing Don to grab his shoulder. “No. You’re not.” He’d hit a nerve. He could feel his brother’s muscles tensing. And he didn’t care. “Sensei said we’re not ready to be out there yet. We stay.” His commanding tone only seemed to piss his brother off further.

“I’m getting air.”

But Don wasn’t buying it. He knew better. He knew that look in his brother’s eye. Raph was looking for a fight. Had been for the past two months. Planting his feet, Don gripped his brother’s shoulder tighter and spoke with finality. “We. Stay.”

Raph seethed with contempt. “You givin’ me an order, Donnie-boy?”

And for once, Don was unafraid. “It was Sensei’s order. I’m enforcing it.”

“S’at so? And how you gonna do that?” Raph turned, his broad shoulders and heavy steps screaming intimidation.

And for once, Don wasn’t cowed. “I was hoping to appeal to your better nature, but I’m starting to wonder if you have one.”

Raph stepped forward, his anger spewing from his lips. “Screw you, Donnie! I don’t have to listen to you!”

For once.

“You ain’t my leader!”

Don. Didn’t.

“You ain’t Leo!”

Care.

A sudden punch to his face had Raph on the floor, blood dripping from his nostril and a glare that could break glass aimed at the ground. No retaliation or bewilderment. Almost like he’d wanted it to happen. And it was all Don could do to stop himself from throwing another punch.

Reason it out logically. Understand.

Leo was dead. Raph was angry. Raph wanted to vent his anger by finding revenge. Finding revenge meant going topside and beating up the world until the murderer was found. Don was stopping him from beating up his pain and venting his anger, so Raph was taking his anger out on Don. Logically, it all made sense. Logically, Don understood his brother’s loss and desperate need to do something to make it go away. Logically, Don knew the best way to help was to either aid in his rampage or back off and let him vent.

Logically.

But Don was in pain too. Don felt loss and despair and anger. Don had also lost a brother. Raph should understand it wasn’t just him who was hurting. Raph should follow the logic to see he’s not the only one dying slowly from grief that will never go away. Raph should be trying to comfort Don by doing what he’s told and staying safe so they don’t risk losing someone else to the evils of the world.

“We. Stay.” Don reaffirmed, his hands still clenched tightly into fists. “We stay hidden, and we stay safe. And I don’t care how pissed off you are, I’m not losing another brother to your temper.” Too far. He felt it. Couldn’t stop it.

Meant it.

Logically, Raph should understand Don was just scared and hurt and trying to fight back against the wall of guilt constantly crushing him. Logically, Don should apologize and talk this out so they could all try to find closure together.

Logically, Leo should still be alive.

Logic no longer made sense.

“This is almost as cold as that time me and Don fell through the ice. You remember, Leo? We were in the midst of an epic battle for snow-fort territory and we ended up on the river. And Don, in his infinite wisdom, decided to prove how frozen the water was by hitting it with his bō and it cracked beneath him.” Mikey snorted a short laugh. “It’s always the smartest people who do the dumbest things.”

“I remember that.” A thick blanket dropped over his shoulders as Casey folded down to sit beside him. “You shoulda seen Raph’s face: went from laughter to freaked so fast it got whiplash.”

Mikey curled the blanket tighter around himself, grateful for the warmth. “It was pretty funny, until I got pulled under trying to help Don up.” He mused, his eyes quickly losing their luster at his next thought. “If it hadn’t been for Leo…”

A somber silence crept through the barn, making Casey tense. He stared at the black bag in front of them, his heart pulsing with equal parts rage and grief, until the shivering of the turtle next to him brought him out of his thoughts. “You should go warm up. Splinter’s got a fire going inside, and I bet there’s still some food—“

“No thanks.” Mikey only nestled deeper into the blanket, his eyes set on the black bag and never leaving. “I don’t want him to be alone.”

Casey could barely look at the expression on his face.

“Mike, I know this is… I mean, I get why…” He scratched his head, fighting to find the right words. Nothing he could say would be right. Nothing would make any of this easier. He sighed. “I’ll stay with him.” Mikey didn’t move, so Casey put a hand to his shoulder to grab his attention. “He wouldn’t want you gettin’ sick. I’ll keep him company till you warm up a bit.”

The young turtle’s eyes dropped to the ground, his brows pulled up into the most depressing expression Casey’d ever seen on a person. He started to wonder if he’d prodded the wrong nerve when Mikey finally spoke. “…You won’t leave him till I come back?”

Casey nodded firmly. “Swear.”

“…Ok.” Mikey stood slowly, taking one last forlorn look at the bag before whispering, “I’ll be back soon, bro.” and leaving the barn. The wind outside made the air even colder, so he pulled the blanket closer around his neck to—

What was that noise? Something drifting over the wind. Mikey was immediately on edge; was someone lurking around the property? Wouldn’t be the first time. As he searched the tree line for the source of the noise, his eyes landed on a particular tree… a large oak right where the house clearing ended and the forest began. Taller than most, with a solid, thick trunk, and plenty of leaves in the summer.

Leo’s reading tree.

In the warmer months, when they came out here to recuperate from a battle or catch a few days of well-earned vacation, Leo liked to climb up at least half-way and sit with a book for hours on end.

“Why in a tree, Leo? Why not on the porch or by the fireplace, like they always do in movies?”

Mikey saw his older brother’s lips curl into the barest of smiles. “The view.”

Leo nodded for Mikey to join him, which he did, taking only a few moments to climb the remaining branches to his brother’s spot. He looked out over the rest of the trees, the birds and the river down the hill in plain view, and couldn’t help being struck by the beauty of it all. “Ok… I admit. It’s nice up here. Don’t know if it compares to a New York skyline, but—“

“Not that.” His brother put his hands on either side of Mikey’s face and turned his head a hundred and eighty degrees to look back at the house. “This.”

Splinter was rocking on the porch in the chair Casey had made him last Christmas, enjoying a cup of green tea in the shade, April was working with Don on some sort of project in front of the barn, both talking fast until they were suddenly in unison and couldn’t help but share a laugh, and Raph was sparring with Casey in front of the house, both smack-talking back and forth and grinning like idiots from ear to ear.

Mikey stared a long while as a fond smile spread across his face. “Since when are you so openly sentimental.” He asked, trying not to let on how touched he was.

“You know what they say: big brother’s always watching.”

Mikey laughed. That sounded more like Leo: surveillance over sentiment. He sat beside his brother, watching their family below as they enjoyed a rare day in the sunlight, and noted an endearing glint in the elder’s eyes.

Warmth radiated from Mikey’s head to the tips of his toes. “It’s a good view. I see why you like it.” He scooted closer to his brother on the branch, draping an arm over his shell in an unabashed show of affection. “Thanks for sharing it with me, Leo!”

The elder allowed himself to be hugged. “Just don’t tell Raph. I’ll never live it down.”

“Turtle’s honor!”

Mikey suddenly found himself several yards from the tree, staring up at it’s branches as snowflakes slowly fell around him. He stared and stared, his heart twisting into so many knots that it practically choked him.

And then the sound was back. Louder than before. Someone grunting. Mikey’s eyes, glossy with fresh tears, finally focused in front of him. At the base of the tree. Someone…

“…Raph?”

The turtle in red stood hunched over a shovel, stabbing it into the ground and forcing up dirt to toss over his shoulder. He didn’t have a coat or a blanket, and he was clearly cold—Mikey could see him shivering from where he stood—but sweat still trickled down his brow. The ground was frozen. Even Raph with his abundance of muscles couldn’t pull up more than a fistful of dirt at a time. But that didn’t seem to bother him.

He was determined.

Mikey watched as his brother speared the ground, teeth grit and muscles tense, wrenching the soil from it’s home and casting it aside, repeating the process without pause. His breathing grew sharper and shorter, Mikey watched it puff in clouds in front of his mouth. Raph was tired, but not slowing down. Not stopping. If anything his fatigue only looked to spur him on.

Determined to dig.

Mikey could only watched.

Couldn’t offer to help. Couldn’t even make his presence known. Could only watch in silence as his older brother ran himself ragged trying to accomplish an impossible task.

His eyes—Raph’s eyes that saw Leo when he— they hadn’t changed at all since that night...

Mikey knew he should try and get him inside to warm up; at this rate he was going to get sick. Seriously sick. But he couldn’t move… couldn’t force himself to go near his older brother.

His oldest brother.

Digging up death beneath that perfect tree.

Suddenly Mikey remembered the cold. He turned away and headed inside, not saying a word to anyone.

“Go home.”

It wasn’t unusual for Raph to sound angry. It wasn’t unusual for him to be angry at Mikey. But even for angry Raph, the ice in his voice was chilling.

Yet his tone wasn’t what was making Mikey’s heart pound.

“Stay.” Leo’s weak voice, barely above a whisper, boomed through the silence with strength he didn’t posses in his battered state. It was only the second time he’d woken since they got to the farmhouse and his injuries hadn’t had much time to heal yet. But still, he tried to comfort them…

“Where are you going?” He finally asked, stepping out from his hiding space behind a chimney. His older brother didn’t even bother to turn and acknowledge him. “Raph—“

“I said. Go. Home.”

“No.” Mikey stood his ground, sounding adamant despite the fear pumping through his veins. “If you’re going out, I’m coming with you.”

“No. You’re not.”

“Alone… I can’t… M’Not Enough.” Leo blinked slowly, clearly fighting to stay conscious against the exhaustion clawing at his mind. It had been less than a day since he’d been thrown through April’s window, and his brother’s were still afraid. Afraid for him. But Leo knew how to help. “M’Only strong… when we’re… together.”

“Yes I am.” Mikey moved closer. “And you can’t stop me.”

“Oh really?”

The way his brother turned, his whole body dripping with malice and his empty eyes screaming rage, startled the younger turtle. He stepped back ever so slightly before taking a deep breath. “Yes. Really. I know you’re hurting, Raph. We all are. But you can’t do this alone. You need—“

“All I need is to be left alone! You’re not coming with—“

“The last time someone left on their own they died!” Mikey practically felt his brother’s jaw clench and fists tighten, but there was no stopping him now. He narrowed his eyes, grateful his bandana hid the tears welling in them. “If you need to be out here, stomping out your grief, fine, but I’m coming with you, because I am not gonna lose you too! I… I can’t…”

Raph glared at the ground, suddenly very silent.

Leo made eye-contact with all three siblings, attempting to smile as he inhaled slowly. “Stay with me. Then we’re… invincible.”

It was several minutes before Mikey finally got himself under control, steadying the tremble in his voice as he stepped closer to this brother. “So. Where are we going?”

Together. Both of them. Leo said. They were stronger. Invincible.

Death couldn’t touch them again.

Together.

Chapter Text

The light was gone.

The farmhouse, normally boisterous with activity and laughter, was silent and still as the night. The place where his children would come to be themselves, away from the worries of the city, had now become a crypt, encasing them in their own misery.

Splinter stood by as his children moved about like ghosts, barely talking or engaging with each other at all. Time was needed to let them grieve and work through this pain in their own ways, but that didn’t make watching them stumble through their despair any easier.

Leonardo was usually quite good at brightening their spirits in such dark times.

A mournful sigh blew past Splinter’s lips as he stoked the fire. He tamped his emotions down as far as he could, turning to his son sitting beside him. “Sit close, my son, and warm yourself.” Michelangelo had come in from the barn feeling as cold as ice, and with Splinter’s spirit as frail as it was, he couldn’t help but fret and worry. “I shall fetch you some tea as well.”

“No, I’m OK, Sensei.”

No, he was not OK. He was in pain—the kind splinter couldn’t take away with medicine or words of comfort. Splinter’s eyes glanced from his son near the fire, to Donatello who sat on the couch with a gadget of some sort splayed out on the coffee table. Both looked exhausted beyond all measure, and while Splinter knew it wasn’t the lack of sleep that was stealing their energy, he also knew he hadn’t seen either of them eat since coming home the other night.

“My sons, you need to keep up your strength.” He didn’t need to look to know both his children sent their eyes to the floor. Best he chose his words carefully. “I understand your pain. Loss is the worst of all burdens to bear… but we must—“

“We know.”

Splinter’s eyes snapped to Donatello, who held his hands in fists, clearly attempting to keep a plethora of emotions in check. He noticeably felt the disrespect as potently as Splinter, immediately trying to soften his objection.

“Please, Sensei. We just… we know.”

The old Father held his tongue, a pang gripping his chest at hearing the brokenness in his son’s voice. A long silence stretched, tension mounting like pressure in a volcano. Finally, April—who had been sitting quietly beside Donatello, passing him parts and tools as he tinkered—stood, deciding now was a good time to make some tea. Just in case.

As she headed for the kitchen, she glanced around the room. “Has anyone seen Casey?”

“He’s in the barn, with Leo…”

Splinter felt the way the name burned his youngest son’s tongue, but he said nothing of it. “What about Raphael?”

April suddenly realized, “I haven’t seen him since we got here.” Which was several hours ago.

“He’s probably out blowing off steam somewhere.” Don offered, not taking his eyes from the objects in his hands.

Splinter glanced out the window, unable to see anything but the front lawn and a great expanse of trees. “Perhaps that is best for now.” While he understood his son’s need to vent his grief alone, the fear curling his fur demanded he keep all his children within arms reach. Where he could protect them.

“Be careful, my sons.”

“Hai, Sensei.” Leonardo bowed, turning to take off with his brothers. It was their first mission topside—his first time leading!—and his excitement radiated like a heat wave. Which is why it caught Splinter by surprise when his eldest stopped, turned, and took his hand, looking him square in the eyes. “Don’t worry, Sensei.”

Apparently Splinter hadn’t been hiding his concern as well as he’d thought. But his fears were persistent and abundant. This was the first time they were leaving the safety of the sewers without their Father as a guardian, and Splinter’s heart refused to quiet it’s frantic pounding. If something happened to them…

But Leonardo squeezed his hand tightly, determination blazing in his eyes. “I’ll protect them. I promise.”

And to his own surprise, his heart stilled to a calm rhythm. Splinter nodded, placing a hand on his young son’s shoulder. “I know, my son. I trust you.” It was the pride that welled in Leonardo’s spirit that made Splinter smile. He watched his son rush to catch his brothers, fear ever present, but ebbed in the wake of such intense conviction.

They had each other. They would be alright.

Grief settled in his stomach like a block of ice, freezing him inside and out. Splinter took his seat near the fire, resolved to keeping watch until Raphael returned.

April returned from the kitchen with a tray of mugs, handing them out to each turtle, refusing to take no for an answer. As she handed Splinter his cup, he looked out the window worriedly. “It’s awfully cold out there. Are you sure we shouldn’t go find Raph?”

Splinter followed her gaze, but all his eyes could see were visions of his son flitting before him.

“Don’t worry, Sensei.”

He needed to find focus, so he could be there for his remaining children. But memories of Leonardo refused to be ignored. They played in front of him like a parade, sending chills to the tips of each hair on his body, and pain like a knife staking his heart.

“I’ll protect them. I promise.”

Focus.

“If he is not back by nightfall, we shall find him.”

April took one last forlorn look out the window before conceding and taking her spot beside Don.

Mikey huddled near the fire, pulling his blanket tighter around himself, not speaking a word.

Splinter wrung the water from the cloth, watching numbly as the blood dripped into the basin. The cloth was soaked with clean water once again, ready to continue it’s task. A slight tremble of his hands went entirely unnoticed as he returned his focus to the table. With a feather’s touch, he drew the clean rag over the red stains, rotating in small, focused circles, to pull the blood away. Every crack, every crevice, every divot would be spotless. Immaculate.

As his son would wish.

A tear rolled down Splinter’s cheek as the visage of his son’s face flashed before him. Those big blue eyes that were always looking to their father for approval. Looking to make him proud. Those blue eyes that held so much fear of failure.

Had his son known how well he’d done? Had he known how much his family respected and appreciated his efforts?

Had he known how proud Splinter was of him?

A hitch in his breath had Splinter pausing, clutching the cloth tightly as he tried to reign in his emotions. Now was not the time. His younger children were all on the verge of breaking, and the last thing they would need is to walk in and see their Father sobbing over their fallen brother.

Breathing deep, Splinter wiped the tears from his cheek and continued his task. The more blood he wiped away, the more scars became visible. And Splinter knew the origin and event of each one. A long gash along the back of his son’s head brought a particularly horrific memory to mind: thunder crashing, glass falling like snow, and his son—his brave Leonardo—thrown through the window into a broken heap upon the floor. It had been the first time Splinter felt the true terror of his children’s mortality. The first time one of his son’s had been mortally wounded. The first time he’d almost had to contend with the fierce pain of losing one of his precious boys to an enemy’s sword.

Almost.

His hand ran gently over the scar, caressing his son’s head as he always did when they slept. “yoku nemuru, musuko.”

“Why do you do that, Dad?”

“Hm?” Splinter turned to a young Leonardo—no older than six—hiding behind the curtain of their makeshift bedroom. The poor child’s worried eyes fell on his younger brother, starring as Raphael’s chest rose and fell in an unsettlingly quick rhythm. Splinter stretched his arm out, inviting his son to his side, and slid his hand around the small shell. “Do what, my son?”

“You put your hand to his head and tell him to ‘sleep well’.”

The earnest confusion in his eyes brought a slight smile to Splinter’s lips. “Can a Father not dote on his children when they are sick?”

Leonardo’s eyes widened, as though he was afraid he’d been disrespectful. “No, I just… you do it to Mikey and Donnie too. Even when they’re not sick. Why? Is it like a prayer? Does it keep them safe?”

“It is similar, I suppose.” Splinter looked back to his younger child, head dripping with sweat as he continued to breathe rapidly. Thank heavens he’d managed to get the medicine in time. With any luck, that would be the last time he’d have to break into a pharmacy this winter. “It is said that those who know they are loved, sleep sounder, for they need not fear being alone. So I simply tell your brothers to sleep well.”

“So… it’s like ‘I love you’.”

Splinter chuckled lightly. “Yes.”

Leonardo hesitated, fidgeting with Splinter’s robe a moment before looking up to his father with bright blue eyes. “Do… Do you say it to me when I sleep?”

Splinter was caught off guard. He looked down at this son—such intense worry on such a young face—and caught his eyes, staring at them intently. “Every night. Without fail.”

Leonardo, shrinking away at the seriousness in his Father’s tone, averted his eyes. Feeling Splinter pull him closer, the young boy suddenly shot his arms around his Father’s waist, clinging tightly. “I love you too, Dad.”

The joy that spread through Splinter’s spirit was almost overpowering. It was an unexpected moment of tenderness, but he embraced it as tightly as he embraced his son.

“Leo?” Donatello poked his head through the curtain, glancing at Raphael as he stepped in. “Is he OK?” He asked timidly.

“Your brother will be alright with some rest. No need to worry.”

That was enough for Don. He didn’t seem to want to look at Raph while he was sick, turning away rather quickly. “Leo, Mikey still thinks you’re playing hide and seek. If you don’t let him find you, he might wander off!”

“I’m coming!” Leo stepped from his Father’s lap, about to follow his younger sibling, but paused by the curtain. He stepped back to Raphael’s side, placing a gentle hand on his fevered head, and whispered, “Yoku nemuru, otōto.” Then followed Donnie out the room.

Splinter smiled after his children, silently thanking the universe for gifting him with such a family. While it warmed his heart to hear his children speak their love for him, it was exponentially greater seeing them show it to each other. He rested his hand once more on Raphael’s head, stroking it lovingly as he watched his son sleep.

Truly, he was blessed.

The tremble of his hand was impossible to still as it rested on the dome of Leonardo’s head, caressing the cold skin. Emotions too powerful for him to combat rampaged through his body. Splinter grit his teeth, attempting to keep the pain in, but to no avail. A tear slipped from his eye, followed by another. And another. “Sleep well, my son. For you are so loved…”

Quiet sobs wracked the old Father as he held the cold body of his eldest child.

How could he have let this happen?

 Splinter swept up the last of the dirt from the tatami mats, carefully placing the practice weapons back on the wall and clapping his hands together to rid them of the dust. Ordinarily, such chores were for his children, but they had been forced to leave in such a rush, Splinter was left to clean up after them. Not that he minded, his sons were very diligent in their chores, for the most part. And while Leonardo had offered to clean it when he returned from their mission, Splinter decided to do it himself.

They would be weary after their late night battle, he would rather have them come home and rest.

Glancing at the room one last time to make sure all was in place, Splinter closed the doors to the dojo and headed for the kitchen. It had only been an hour-and-a-half since his children had left, and yet for some reason his nerves were panicking at their absence. Odd, considering they were usually gone for most of the night.

Very odd, indeed. But nothing a cup of tea couldn’t cure.

Plucking his tea from the cabinet, splinter boiled some water and steeped his beverage, enjoying the quiet of the evening. It was quite peaceful without his children mucking about and shouting at one another. Not that he minded their presence, but it was admittedly nice to have some time to himself. Just what his tense nerves needed in order to relax.

Settling down in front of the television, Splinter turned the channel to one of his favourite shows: a medical drama called “Greys Anatomy”. He wasn’t a fan of hospitals, particularly now that he was bound to the form of a giant rat and would likely be killed upon entering one, but relationships were a passion of his, and this drama provided many of those. And while the writing sometimes lacked imagination, he thoroughly enjoyed watching how each life affected the others.

Similar to how his boys touched the world, even from the shadows.

As the show began, Splinter idly wondered what jobs his children would have taken were they to be allowed in the public eye. Donatello would have made an excellent doctor, or engineer, or scientist. Perhaps NASA would have scooped him up and taken him away to—

Splinter’s tea cup fell to the floor, shattering into pieces with a crash as loud as a gunshot. He clutched his chest, not even noticing the broken glass, as a pain like a raging storm swept through his body. What on earth was—

No… He knew this pain. Emptiness. Grief.

Loss.

Something had happened. Dear heavens, his children! Were they alright? Where were they!?

“Sensei…”

Splinter looked up to see an apparition standing before him. “…Leonardo?”

“I’m sorry, Sensei.”

Splinter felt dread pounding on his chest. “My son, what has happened?

But the apparition only knelt before him, bowing it’s head in respect.

“My son…?” Splinter couldn’t form words. He watched as the ghostly form of his child bowed a moment longer before standing, a sad smile about his face.

“Thank you for everything,” It squared it’s shoulders, waving a goodbye that pierced Splinter like an arrow. “Dad.”

As suddenly as it had appeared, it vanished. And with it went Splinter’s heart.

He fell to the floor, cutting his hand on a piece of broken glass as his tried to remember how to breathe. This pain… this raw, scraping pain… could it really be…?

“Leonardo…” Splinter breathed the name on a choked plea, eyes searching the room, frantically begging to see his son once more.

Fear pounded heavily in his heart as he ran for the telephone, dialling Leonardo’s cell. No response. He tried again to the same effect. And again. He tried all his children’s phone numbers, but none would answer. Calm. They would be home soon. Everything would be all right.

But even thirty minutes of waiting had proved to be agony. He could wait no longer. In his desperation, he grabbed his cloak and cane and headed for the door, but had only made it a few steps when there was sound over by the garage entrance. He moved with speed he shouldn’t possess and met the Shellraiser as it’s doors opened. “My sons!”

They were home. Not to worry. Nothing but a figment of his imagin—

Michelangelo stepped from the vehicle first, his whole body quaking and his face stained with tears.

“Kodomo, what has happened?” But the youngest didn’t look at Splinter. Didn’t look away from his brothers as they walked from the vehicle, carrying something between them.

No… No, let it not be true.

“Leonardo?”

The two lay their eldest before their Father, Donatello’s face a wash of grief and despair, and Raphael looking almost… hollow.

Splinter knelt beside the body, needing to feel the cold skin beneath his fingers to truly believe the sight before him. It could not be… His heart pounded, his throat closed, and his eyes stung. This could not be! But his pleas fell on dead ears, the cold stillness remaining beneath his fingers, devoid of pulse, warmth, and life.

“No…” Splinter placed a hand on Leonardo’s chest, consumed by it’s inactivity. No breath. No measured lungfuls of air as he did while training. No steady, controlled respiration as when he meditated.

Nothing.

Splinter’s gaze drifted to his child’s face. The blue bandana, smattered with feckles of blood, still adorned his head. His brows rested, eased from their tight posture which so often framed his eyes. No longer lined with worry.

He looked so at peace…

“Oh, my son.” Splinter caressed the cold cheek before him, millions of desperate prayers overrunning his mind. “My Leonardo…”

Gone. Forever.

Splinter closed his eyes, drawing in a careful breath as the pain of the memory washed over him.

Had he only known. He would have stopped them. Would have kept them at home. Would have forbade them from leaving the lair and kept them close. Safe.

The sight of his eldest child, covered in blood and pale as the moon, would forever haunt his days. His children’s faces, consumed with fear, denial, and anguish, bobbed at the surface of his consciousness, striking at every unguarded moment.

The pain was ever constant. As it would always be.

Wafting the memory away, Splinter leaned forward, pressing his hands on his knees to anchor himself as he stood. His joints ached and his body was weary, his old age terribly apparent in the limp of his walk and the ever-growing hunch of his back.

He was tired. In the three months since his son’s passing, Splinter had scarcely slept. Every time he closed his eyes, the nightmares would take him. Visions of Leonardo, dying in his arms and pleading for help. Of his younger three children suffering a similar, gruesome fate. Of being left alone, watching his family fall before him. Truth be told, such nightmares were hardly new. Splinter remembered vividly how terrified he’d been the first night his boys took off for the surface unaccompanied. He’d paced and meditated and cleaned incessantly, trying anything to keep his mind from jumping to the worst of scenarios. The first time one of them had come back injured, Splinter had spent the entire night watching over them as they slept, silently thanking every deity in existence that it was only a broken bone and not something life threatening. Even today, he was still haunted by his children’s first encounter with Saki, and how close they’d come to death.

But this… this nightmare was a new beast entirely. Because this one was real. This time it hadn’t all worked out in the end. This time, his son was taken. And there would be no relief of waking to find it all a dream.

Leonardo was truly gone.

A wave of sorrow crashed over him, and all Splinter could do was brace himself and breathe deep, waiting for the pain to ebb.

Had he only known…

Walking from the room, Splinter made his way to the main living area of the lair. The silence was maddening. What was once a vibrant space, full of life and excitement and the crazy antics of his children, was now lonely and destitute. Much a the cabin had felt when they buried Leonardo…

His children were not coping well with their loss. Of course it would take longer than three months to ease their grief, and he knew better than to try and force his own ways of dealing with loss on them. But he longed to have his family back...

What he wouldn’t give to see Michelangelo smile and light up the room. To have Donatello rush around explaining his newest, brilliant creation. To hear Raphael in the throws of a hard workout while bantering back and forth with his brothers.

To see his Leonardo, practicing katas and honing his already exceptional skills.

Splinter sighed deeply, allowing the tear in his eye to fall before wiping it quickly from his fur and squaring his shoulders. His eldest was gone, his physical presence never again would grace the halls of this home. But his younger three children were still here. Their smiles, their dedication, their passion… he could see those once again. Given time… they just needed time.

Splinter gasped, his back arching as a sudden chill shot down his spine. Danger. His children were in danger! Aches and pains were suddenly irrelevant as the Father rushed through the lair, knocking on doors. He started with Donatello’s lab, bedroom, the dojo, Michelangelo and Raphael’s bedrooms, even Leonardo’s.

Empty. His home was empty.

His children were gone!

Chapter Text

“Enough.” Splinter whispered under his breath. He stood from his chair, hiding the shake of his arms at holding his weight, and looked to the door. “April, please keep an eye on things for me. I am going to look for Raphael.”

“I can come with you.”

“No.” He spoke no more words, but the way he glanced from Don to Mikey told April everything she needed to know.

She nodded. “Ok. We’ll keep an eye out from h—“

The front door was suddenly thrown open, cracking against the wall beside it. April nearly jumped out of her skin until she saw who was standing in the doorway.

“Raphael!” Splinter’s voice was laced with worry. Even from where he stood he could see the slight tremble of his son’s body shivering from the cold. He also noted the dirt and mud covering his son’s hands and feet and crawling up to his forearms. There was also a heavy sheen of sweat trickling down his brow. Where on earth had he…

The very moment Splinter’s mind fit the pieces together, Raphael looked towards him. The way his brow knit together in a scowl framing the complete hollowness of his eyes… it was chilling.

It was agonizing.

“Raphael…” Splinter started towards his son, grabbing up the blanket from his chair, when the red bandana broke his look and abruptly headed towards the stairs.

“Wait, Raph, you should—“ April tried to stop him, but Splinter placed a gentle paw on her shoulder, holding her back.

“Leave him.” He kept his voice steady, and his eyes on the stairs his son had just stormed up. He wanted nothing more than to run after his boy, hold him close, and tell him everything would be alright. To comfort in any and every way possible. But his eyes… the sheer emptiness in them. Splinter hadn’t seen eyes like that since his wife had been taken from this world. When he’d felt helpless. Alone.

Guilty.

And Splinter knew his son better than to try and impose comfort on him when he was in such a state. Forcing himself to stand tall—and remain still, despite every fatherly instinct to the contrary—he gave April’s shoulder a light squeeze for reassurance before returning to his chair to watch over his other two sons.

April stared after Raph a moment longer. “But shouldn’t we—“

“In time.” They could comfort him in time. But right now, such efforts could result in pushing him further away. “For now, allow him solitude.”

April sighed, conceding. Perhaps she’d sneak him some hot tea or something later, if he didn’t come down before sunrise. She looked to Don, who had hardly flinched at the activity, entirely enwrapped in his tinkering. Then to Mikey, who had kept his shell to the door as soon as Raph had entered, and now stared at the fire, almost glaring at it.

Her heart suddenly felt heavier. This wasn’t right. None of this was right…

Mikey suddenly stood, wrapping his blanket tight around his shoulders and heading for the door. He said nothing, only stopped to glance at the stairs before leaving the cabin and abruptly slamming the door closed behind him.

“GET DOWN!”

The words barely left Raph’s mouth before he was hurling his body into his baby brother’s side, throwing him out of the way of a grenade that burst several feet in front of them. The two shakily attempted to stand, but as Mikey was still getting his bearings, a purple dragon stalked toward him, gun in hand, and smirk on his face. Raph forced himself up between the two, his sai raised and death in his eyes. He lunged before the gunman could raise his weapon, spearing him through the hand and tackling him into the nearest wall.

Mikey gawked as Raph barely bat an eyelash at the vicious assault, dusting himself off as he headed back, offering the younger a hand. “You OK?”

“Yeah.” Mikey gave his head a good shake to chase away the dizziness. “I think so.” Though he must have hit his head harder than he thought, because Raph sounded like he was actually scared.

“Let’s get out of—“

A sharp cry bellowed from Raph’s throat, his hand snapping to cover the source of the pain now scorching through his shoulder. Mikey’s eyes widened in pure terror as he realized his brother had been shot. “Raph!”

But his brother was already in front of him, throwing him away from the barrage of bullets that followed. By the time Mikey righted himself enough to sit up, he saw Raph stab his sai through the new gunman’s arm, twisting until he dropped the weapon. Thank God. But the man drew a club from behind his back, and before either turtle could react, he clocked it as hard as he could across Raph’s head. The older ninja reeled, backing into the wall. He tried keeping himself upright, but dizziness was clearly winning the battle, bringing him slowly down to a knee.

Mikey was frozen. Couldn’t remember how to move. Think.

He saw the man pick up his gun with his good hand. Watched as he strode towards his brother with a murderous smirk.

“L-Leo!” Mikey could feel himself shaking. “Don, you have to do something! Leo’s not breathing! You have to—“

Oh god…

“LEO!”

Adrenaline finally spurred Mikey on, pulling him from the memory into action. But he was too slow. The man was already levelling his gun at Raph’s head. At this rate he’d be too late to— “RAPH!”

A loud crack rang out and Mikey’s heart felt like it stopped, but his feet didn’t. He kept going until he was by his brother’s side, skidding to a halt just before he hit the wall. His eyes, frantic and terrified, finally understood what they were witnessing.

Donatello stood in front of their brother, towering over the body of the fallen purple dragon he’d just attacked. The crack had been his bō against bone. Not a gunshot. Raph wasn’t—

“Raph!” Mikey fell beside his brother, immediately catching sight of the blood running through his fingers and down his arm.

Not again. Please… Please, not again!!

“Can you stand?” Donnie was quickly in front of them both, offering his hand.

Mikey could barely keep himself from full on panic. “Don, he’s bleeding!”

“He’s bleeding and he’s not breathing! You have to—“

“—Go.”

Mikey shook his head as Don hoisted him to his feet.

“Mikey, it’s OK. Raph’s gonna be fine. But we have to go now.”

The youngest turtle’s mind was frozen, leaving his body to work by instinct. He cradled his shoulder under Raph’s good arm to help keep the older turtle steady, and stood ready to leave.

“Follow me.”

Mikey knew it was Donnie speaking. His brain registered the purple mask and the glasses and the higher vocal tone, but his eyes saw what they were used to. What they needed in that moment. And his words followed. “Right behind you, Leo.”

The snow had stopped, but the air still felt cold. It didn’t look like the weather was going to turn as predicted. Perhaps it would warm up over night, but somehow April doubted that. The ground was definitely still frozen. If Splinter was right—and he usually was—Raph must have been out there for hours digging…

Her hands curled around her arms, tightening their fold as she stood silently by the fire. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t help but stare at those around her. Don still sat with his drone, fitting pieces together and closed off to everything in the world around him, Splinter was in his chair, looking older and more burdened than she’d ever seen him, and Mikey had presumably gone back and sit in the barn. She’d have to remember to bring him something to keep warm. The last thing they needed was everyone catching a cold.

“You’d make a great mom, April.”

“What?” She turned to stare at the blue bandana in surprise. “Where did that come from?”

The turtle shrugged as he helped her put away the supplies into the cupboards. “Mother’s Day was on Sunday. It made me think of you.”

“You’re just saying that because I’m the only female in your immediate family circle.” She countered coyly.

“True. We don’t have a mom.”

April’s face sunk immediately. “I didn’t mean... That’s not what I…”

“But you’re more than just any female. You make sure Don eats when he’s obsessing over an experiment, you’re patient with Mikey when he’s been cooped up too long with too much caffeine, and you even manage to talk Raph down from a temper tantrum every now and again. You make sure we’re warm in the winter, cool in the summer, you’re always here with medicine when we get sick, and you’re always willing to listen when we feel down. And if you can handle all the insane drama the four of us throw at you, I’m sure human kids would be much less of a challenge.”

April had abandoned the can of soup she’d been putting away, turning to stare at her friend with wide eyes. “I… I still don’t see the connection.” She did. But the adulation had surprised her, so she had to deflect.

“Mikey was talking about what it would have been like to have a mom, and we all concluded that if we had one, we’d hope she’d have been like you.”

April was speechless. The compliment made her heart flutter more than she would have expected. So again, she tried to avoid the subject. “Are you calling me a den mother? Because I am certainly no Wendy to your lost boys.”

She saw her friend smile slightly. “Of course not. I just meant that it’s your nurturing spirit, not your femininity, that makes us think you’d be a good mom. Besides, according to Raph, I’m the only den mother around here.”

April couldn’t help but giggle. She stared at her friend a long minute, really letting his words settle. Now that things were getting serious with Casey, the thought of children had certainly crossed her mind, but she’d always ignored the idea out of sheer practicality; what in her life of vigilantes and computer science made her the ideal candidate to be a mother? She wouldn’t have the first clue how to parent a child. But then, she’d never considered how much her turtle family had prepared her for such a task. They did have a way of bringing out parts of her she never knew existed.

Perhaps… Perhaps it wasn’t such a ridiculous notion after all.

She smiled.

The moment swept her away, and she found herself wrapping her arms around the turtle’s shell, hugging him from behind. “Thanks, Leo. That means a lot.”

“What are den mothers for?”

Nausea rumbled in April’s stomach as an ache settled on her heart like an anvil. She turned away to face the fire and stare at the flames dancing. She needed a distraction. Needed something to take her mind off it before her heart exploded in her chest. Where was—

“Hey,”

April’s head snapped to the front door where Casey now stood, timidly peering at Donnie before turning his gaze to her. Try as she did, she couldn’t hide the anguish in her features. He was by her side in an instant.

“Babe.”

Thick arms braced around her shoulders, pulling her into a hug that she needed but couldn’t unfold her arms to accept. She just stood against Casey’s chest, her head resting on his jacket, arms still curled around themselves. They stayed that way for several minutes before Casey’s gaze finally turned his eyes to the stairs.

“Mike says he dug it by himself.”

April nodded slowly.

“Maybe I should go—“

“He needs his space. He’ll come down when he’s ready.”

“I’m not too sure about that.” Casey peered at Don’s distant eyes and Splinter’s sagging shoulders before staring up the stairs again. “I should—“

“Please.” Finally able to unfold her arms, April wrapped them around his neck, burying her face as deep into his coat as she could. “Just stay here a minute longer.”

“Ok.” Casey let out a long sigh. He placed a hand on her head and held her closer, stroking her hair gently. “Ok.”

He couldn’t stop shaking.

They were a good distance from the fires of the warehouse, safely moving away from the sirens, and easily in the clear of any gang members who might have tried to follow. But Mikey couldn’t keep himself from trembling. His whole body. Not just his hands. Everything. Maybe it was his close encounter with death moments ago. Maybe it was the gun shots he could still hear ringing in his ears. Maybe it was that Don had been completely silent since saving their shells at the warehouse.

Or maybe it was because every drop of blood that dripped from Raph’s shoulder made Mikey’s heart beat faster. What if Donnie couldn’t fix the wound? What if they couldn’t get him home in time?

What if they lost him too?

Mikey’s legs gave out from under him. He tripped, nearly taking Raph down with him, but Donnie was there to ease them both to the ground. The orange-banded turtle offered an apologetic glance before going to help his brother up again. But Don stopped him.

“But he’s hurt!” Mikey protested. “Shouldn’t we get back home to—“

“I need to see how bad it is before we move him more.” Don quickly assured, adjusting his glasses before gently inspecting Raph’s injured arm.

The silence was enough to drive Mikey mad. He held himself together for as many minutes as possible, but fear was getting the better of him. Why wasn’t Don saying anything!? What was he doing? The last time he did this…

A wave of pain and pure terror swept through Mikey so quickly, he didn’t have time to process his own movement. He wrapped himself around Raph’s chest, squeezing—holding on—as tight as he could.

“Ow! Mik—“

“Don’t! You can’t! You can’t die too! Leo’s still gone and we’re still a mess and we can’t lose anyone else! Please, Raph, you can’t—“ His teeth clamped suddenly shut, holding in an anguished sob. Tears started rolling down his cheeks, despite his best efforts.

Mikey had no idea how long he sat there crying, clinging to his injured brother, but it felt like an eternity and no time at all. A hand to his shoulder finally brought his eyes up, red and puffy and anguished as they were, to meet Don’s, staring gently back at him.

“He’s OK, Mikey. Raph’ll be fine. The bullet didn’t hit anything vital. The most he’ll have is a nasty scar and limited movement on that side for a few weeks.”

Don’s eyes were nothing but compassionate. Honest. He wasn’t trying to make it sound better than it was. He wasn’t lying. Raph was going to be alright.

Mikey shot Don a pleading, betrayed look. “You said he was fine!”

“…You’re sure? What about his head? He got hit really bad…”

“It wasn’t—” Raph tried to mumble before Don interjected.

“He’s slightly concussed, but no major damage. After he’s bandaged and hopped up on Advil, he’ll be just fine.” Don must have seen the fear still leaking from Mikey’s eyes, because he gave his shoulder a light squeeze and added “I promise.”

Mikey glanced up at Raph, who’s gaze was solidly fixed on the ground. “OK…” Raph hated being the center of attention when he was hurt, so staring at the ground out of embarrassment was normal. Which meant he would be alright. ‘Cause he was acting normal, and he wouldn’t do that if he was dying, right? Right. So they’d get him home and patch him up and everything would be OK. Nothing to worry about.

“Leo’s hurt, we have to get to Raph.”

“What? Is he Ok?”

Don nodded. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, but I need to get there and see for myself.”

Mikey still couldn’t stop shaking.

Knock. Knock.

Silence.

Not that he expected anything different, but Casey rapped his hand on the door again, listening intently for any sign of movement on the other side. Nothing. He sighed audibly. “Come on, Raph, I know you’re in there.” He waited patiently—or at least patiently for Casey—before finally giving up the pretence of politeness, no longer holding out for an invitation to enter the room. “I’m comin’ in.” He announced blandly, slowly creaking the door ajar to peer inside. All the blinds were pulled, shrouding the suite in darkness despite the few rays of light from the setting sun snaking their way through every crack and crevise available. Casey’s eyes adjusted quickly, and he stopped when he noticed the bed overturned in the corner, clearly thrown there in a fit of rage.

Leo’s bed.

So that’s how it was going to be then.

Gathering himself as he closed the door, Casey made his way across the wreckage of sheets and pillows to find Raph on the floor in the darkest corner of the room, shell leaning against the wall, arms wrapped around his knees tucked into his chest, and as far away from Leo’s tossed bed as possible.

Casey didn’t bother with a greeting or asking any questions. Didn’t bother with small talk or attempting the “we’re here for you, man” speech. He knew it would fall on deaf ears. Because he knew this type of self-destruction. Intimately. He knew talking wasn’t going to help. Not Now. Not yet. He picked up a blanket from one of the other siblings beds and draped it over Raph’s shell, fully expecting it to be thrown aside immediately.

The red bandana didn’t even flinch.

Good. Sort of. At least Casey could make sure he warmed up. From what April told him, Raph had been out in the cold a long while, and experience had taught him that cold blood and cold weather don’t mix too good.

He lowered himself against the wall beside his friend, making sure to keep enough space between them so they weren’t touching, and sat. As his eyes roamed from Raph’s scowling face to the sais held tightly in his fists, he made a note not to make too many sudden moves. Wouldn’t want ‘getting skewered in a fit of depression fuelled rage’ added to the list of horrifyingly emotional scenarios they were going to have to wade through tomorrow.

Which is what this was. Or what Casey assumed it was. Depression fuelled rage. Same thing he’d felt when he lost his mom. Difference was, cancer took his mom, not a thug. Illness stole his family, not some cowardly asshole with a gun. Raph was still the only one who knew what really happened on that roof, but Casey was sure of two things: it wasn’t Raph’s fault, and Raph was blaming himself for it. Casey’s mom had been taken by a disease and he’d still felt responsible for not finding some way to save her. He could only imagine what it must feel like when it was a skilled ninja vs a weapon.

Someday Raph might want to talk about it. Someday he might need a sounding board for his rant about how much of a crapshoot this whole situation was, and how much it hurt to have watched it all happen, and how hard it was going to be to move on. But that day was not today.

Raph and him, they were cut from the same cloth. They felt the same overpowering anger controlling their lives, the same craving for violence, and the same passion for justice. They worried about the same things and refused to admit that their anger came from fear of losing what they loved.

Which is why Casey knew. Today wasn’t a day for talking. Wasn’t a day to make anything right, or help anyone feel better. Wasn’t a day to grieve, and wasn’t a day to even think about moving on.

Today was about sanity. About furiously clinging to anything solid, and holding onto the rage for dear life. Because the rage was familiar. The rage made sense. And once it was gone, the pain would set it. And they’d do anything to avoid the pain.

It was a theory, anyway. Casey couldn’t know for sure. Their situations had been drastically different, as had their ages. It was possible the hollow look in Raph’s eyes wasn’t pent up anger, but something else entirely. It was possible he was experiencing this all in a way Casey couldn’t understand and he was only making assumptions to help himself cope with seeing his friend so broken (damn if some of Donnie’s psychological mumbo-jumbo hadn’t rubbed off on him…). But whatever the case, he sat. Silent and still.

In the dark of the room, Casey stared at the toppled bed, thinking of the person who’d slept in it and how gut-wrenching it was that he’d never sleep in it again.

Stupid. Some cowardly-ass, ignorant thug gets off one lucky shot…

His anger flared in an instant. He glanced once more from his shivering, hollow, friend, gripping his sai for dear life, to the last vestiges of sunlight setting behind the curtains, and could think of only one thing to describe the whole situation. So he said it with feeling.

“Shit.”

Don’s fingers carefully grazed over Raph’s shoulder once more, checking the severity of the injury. Just a flesh wound. Through and through. Heavy bleeding, but nothing internal. No organ damage, and too close to the shoulder bone to have hit a major vein or artery. Nothing a few stitches couldn’t solve.

Minor. Not life threatening. The bullet wouldn’t kill him. Not like—

Don couldn’t even see the wound itself through all the gushing blood. He wiped the rain from his eyes—was it the rain? When had it started?—and did his best to inspect the bullet hole. But between the weather, the lack of light, and the fact that his heart was pounding too loudly for him to focus on anything else, he couldn’t find much.

Not that he needed to. He knew the truth. Knew it almost from the moment he’d gotten Raph’s phone call.

There was nothing they could have done.

“M’Fine.”

Raph’s annoyed tone cut through Don’s thoughts, bringing him back to the present. Back to the terror he’d felt when he realized Raph had left the lair. Back to the shock that Mikey had gone with him. Back to the paralyzing dread that his remaining siblings could be laying on some rooftop, injured and bloody, with no help on the way.

Dying. Alone.

Don’s feet had never moved so fast in his life. He was out the lair and leaping rooftops for several minutes before his mind had a chance to remind him to turn on Mikey’s shellcell GPS. By the time he’d made it to the docks, the warehouse was already on fire, and Don’s fears choked him with all the ways it said his brothers could have been killed already.

And then he spotted them. Saw Raph take a hit. Saw a man level a gun at his head.

He honestly couldn’t remember what happened next. He’d felt his pulse spike, his dread thicken, and his anger rise, and suddenly he was in front of his brothers, telling them they needed to leave and ignoring the thug lying in a heap behind him.

“Raph, don’t!” Mikey’s plea as his brother tried to stand brought Don back to the present, but went unheeded by their injured sibling.

“I’m f—“

Raph’s hand was back to clutching his head, and the two younger turtles were both already in front of him, helping lower him back to the ground.

“Dude, take it easy.”

Raph only growled in response, once again clearly annoyed at being the one injured. And Don suddenly felt his anger rise. Mikey continued to fuss over Raph, who continued to try standing with little success. But Don couldn’t move.

His fists clenched tight, his jaw set hard, and he could practically feel his blood boiling beneath his skin.

“Come on,” Mikey scooped under Raph’s shoulder, once again balancing him as he prepared to leave. “We should get home.”

“Why bother?” Don finally stood, turning his shell to his brothers and clenching his fists tight. “Out here’s where you wanted to be, right? Out in the middle of all this violence and hatred and death.” He looked out over the distance, glaring at the fire of the warehouse. “This is what’s important to you. The fight. The battle. That’s what you care about. Not your family, not your brothers, not even your own safety!”

Raph didn’t say a word, but a pang of guilt stung Mikey as he heard the anger in his brother’s tone. “We’re sorry, Don. We didn’t—“

“Why else would you run off into the night without a word to anyone, without telling us where you were going or letting us come to help? Why else would you disobey Sensei’s orders, knowing full well he set them in place because he’s terrified of losing another child?”

“Don—“

“Why else would you be so blatantly ignorant to the people around you and how the past few months might be affecting them?”

“Don, please, we didn’t mean—“

“He told you not to go!” Don whirled on his brothers—on Raph—eyes flickering with anger and fear gripping his muscles.

“I told him not to leave.”

Again. How could he do it again? After everything that’d happened, everything they were still trying to work through, how could he? Why didn’t he learn!? “Why do you do it? Why do you go off alone like that? Why do you insist on leaving us all behind!? You know it’s dangerous to go alone, and yet you always do! You always disobey!” Hands balled into fists and anger spilling like hot lava, Don couldn’t stop himself. “He told you not to go, and you left! Why didn’t you just listen for once!? Why didn’t you follow orders!? If you hadn’t left, he might still be—“

An explosion in the distance cut him off, drawing all three turtle’s attention. The warehouse looked like it collapsed, sending up plumes of smoke into the air. The fire was under control, only embers remaining as the pile of rubble slowly burned itself out.

Don turned back to his siblings, resentment and fury still writhing to get out. But the moment had passed. Raph’s head was still leaking blood and Sensei was sure to notice they’d all left and was going to lock them in the lair for the rest of their lives. They needed to get back. “…Come on. Sensei’s probably worried.”

“Dee, wait.” Mikey easily saw the pain fuelling his brother’s anger. He understood. But there hadn’t been time to go back for him or Raph might have left on his own. And what they’d come out here for was important. Necessary. “We’re sorry.” He turned to Raph, hoping for a head nod or something to indicate his remorse, but received none. So he quickly continued. “It was for a good reason. We had to come for it. They’d mounted it to the wall like some kind of trophy. We had to take it back.”

Don kept his shell to them, unable to look for fear he’d give in to Mikey’s pleading eyes and forgive them when he was still far too angry to do so. “Take what back?” He asked through clenched teeth.

“This.”

Raph’s solid voice jarred Don slightly. He gave in, turning to see what his brother held out to him. “Is… Is that…?”

It couldn’t be. In his adrenaline fuel panic, he must not have noticed. How could he not have noticed?

Coal black saya, gold-tinted oval tsuba, and ocean blue cord wrapped about the hilt.

Leonardo’s katana.

Chapter Text

“Is he gonna be OK Sensei?” Mikey asked sheepishly, almost afraid to hear the answer.

“Only time will tell.” Was Splinter’s vague reply as he adjusted the blanket under his eldest son’s chin.

But the worry in their father’s eyes did little to alleviate Mikey’s fear.

“He’ll be fine.” Raph piped in with a grouchy snort. “Ain’t no way Leo’ll let a bunch of Foot keep him down for good.”

Mikey nodded, liking the sentiment. But Leo’s face looked so bruised and cut up… he’d never been hurt this bad before.

Placing a hand on Leo’s shoulder, Mikey stared at his unconscious older brother. “We’re here, Leo. And we still need you. So pull yourself together and get better, Okay?”

An unexpected groan slipped from Leo’s lips, and Mikey couldn’t help but grip his shoulder tighter.

“Do not fear, my son.” Splinter rested a paw on top of Michelangelo’s, wiping as much of the worry from his eyes as he could. “Your brother is still fighting. He will find a way back to us.”

Mikey nodded, eyes fixed on his eldest brother. He had to be okay. He had to. Leo was the best fighter, the best strategist, the best at using swords—he was their leader. He was the most responsible and unbeatable guy Mikey knew (except for Sensei).

Without him… what on earth were they supposed to do?

“It’s the same as last time. Last time, we were all scared and we huddled around you and we begged and we prayed and we told old stories to give you something to hold onto. Last time, we had hope you would be okay because you’re Leo and you never give up. Last time… Last time you woke up. You opened your eyes and you healed and everything was back to normal.” Placing a hand on the black bag in front of him, Mikey hesitated over the zipper. Casey was back inside, Don was lost in reconstructing his drone, and Sensei and April were focused on Raph when Mikey’d left, so no one was going to walk in and stop him.

Just one more look. Maybe his eyes would be open. Maybe he’d be OK. Maybe he’d pull off one of his crazy last minute come-backs. It’s not like this was the first time Leo’d been “dead” before. They thought they’d lost him lots of times over the years. In explosions, fires, spaceships, even alternate dimensions. What if this was all part of some crazy plan Leo’d hatched up to take down the Purple Dragons?

What if…

“My son.”

Michelangelo’s hand pulled sharply back under his blanket. If Sensei saw—and Mikey was sure he did—he didn’t say anything. Just quietly sat down, folding his legs beneath him, his robe brushing Mikey’s blanket.

Silence descended.

Mikey gulped as he stared at the black bag before him. Stared and waited. Maybe it would move. Maybe it was all a trick. A nightmare. Maybe he’d wake up and find Leo sitting by his bed—because he somehow knew when Mikey was having a bad dream—waiting to comfort and reassure him. Maybe…

Sensei didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Just sat there, staring at Leo—the bag—with no expression on his face.

Mikey felt like he should say something. But what? The only thoughts in his head were of memories long past or denial of the present. “He didn’t suffer.” The words had tumbled from his lips so quickly, he scarcely recognized he’d been the one to utter them. He didn’t need to look to know Splinter’s gaze was now on him. Mikey shuddered in a breath. “It was barely twenty minutes from the time Raph called to the time we got to the roof. Don said with where the bullet hit—“ his breath hitched involuntarily. Why was he saying any of this? Leo could still be— “He bled out quickly.”

Splinter sighed a low breath through his nose, but remained silent. Mikey was shivering visibly by now. He didn’t feel cold. Just numb. “Twenty minutes…” And the words kept coming. He couldn’t stop them. “That would have been enough time to get him home. If we’d have left right away, it would have been enough time…” Leo could still be alive. He could still… it was a trick. An elaborate rouse for another one of Leo’s crazy plans. He could… “We could have… if we’d just…” He held his breath, trying to hold the words in like he would a sneeze. But they blurted out of him all the same.

“He can’t really be gone, Sensei! He’s too important! He’s too smart and too skilled and too… too good! Good people don’t just die like that! He can’t be gone. We had enough time to save him. Why didn’t we save him!? He can’t be—we still need him—he wouldn’t just leave like that! It’s a trick. It has to be.” His hand shot forward to grab the zipper of the bag, fully determined to prove his theory right. Leo was alive somewhere, waiting for the perfect moment to make a miraculous return. He was—

In the blink of an eye, Mikey’s hand was pulled away from the zipper, and his face buried in his Sensei’s robe, an arm around his shoulder. clasping his shell in a firm hug. “My son. Your brother is—“

“NO! No he’s not! He’s not gone! He can’t be! He wouldn’t—“

“He gave his life—“

“No!”

“—Protecting what he loved.”

“NO!”

Mikey shoved Splinter aside, grabbing the zipper and yanking it open. His desperation turned to horror as he starred at the sallow skin and closed eyes. The blue bandana. The leather hilted katana.

Leo.

A wail bubbled in Mikey’s throat, starting low as he stared and stared and…

It was really Leo. He really left.

His lament grew louder and louder, tears pouring down his cheeks. His heart throbbed so hard, he was sure he was dying.

Not a nightmare. No last minute save. He was… he was really…

“My son.” Warm arms wrapped around Mikey’s quaking body, pulling him close. This time, Mikey didn't move to push him away. He wrapped his own arms around his father’s body, clinging to him for dear life.

“He can’t be… Sensei, he’s… He can’t…”

Leo couldn’t be dead.

Splinter’s heart was beating out of his chest. His legs moved so swiftly beneath him, he’d nearly tripped thrice as he flew from roof to roof. And his nerves ignited ever more the moment he spotted the smoke.

His sons were there. He knew. They were always in the middle of the fire.

Barely a heartbeat later he was standing adjacent to the smouldering pile of wood and concrete that used to be a warehouse, eyes searching in constant desperation for three green shells.

Nothing. No sign of them. No proof they’d been here other than the flames. What if they…

No. He would know. He’d have felt it. The empty void in his soul would have swallowed him entirely.

Focus. Don’t panic. They were alive. Where would they have escaped? Underground or—

His eyes narrowed on a small blot of blood speckled on the far ledge of the roof. The limited trail continued to the edge, and as Splinter jumped to the adjacent building, he found more. They were alive. Injured, but alive.

Splinter forced himself to breathe. Think.

If they were injured, they were surely headed home. The sirens had all died down which meant they weren’t pursuing anything, but staying with the burnt building, so his sons should be clear to find a sheltered alley and duck into the sewers. And there were no other tracks on the roof to indicate an enemy following behind.

They would head home by the safest route, which was the sewers. Unless their injuries were great, in which case they would opt for speed, sticking to the rooftops as much as possible. Either way, if Splinter doubled back, he would surely meet them en route, or at the very least at home.

His feet were already in flight before the thought landed.

They were alive. Injured, but alive.

Possibly dying.

He picked up his speed.

“Ow! That hurts!”

“Mikey, I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“Oh.” Mikey tensed his body, waiting with bated breath as his brother approached with the needle again. “Wait!”

“Will you quit being such a child and sit still!”

“Newsflash bro: I AM a child! And so are you! You’re ten years old, Don, how do you know how to use a needle?”

“The same way I knew how to fix that N64 in the living room: I read about it.” Don lifted the needle once more.

“OW!”

“Still haven’t touched you.” Don groaned, washing a hand over his face before looking to Leo with exasperation. “Will you keep him still, please? I can’t give him his shot with him moving around and shouting every time I look at him.”

“I don’t want a shot!” Mikey pled. “Raph’s the one who’s sick, why do I need a shot!?”

“Because flu’s are contagious, and you’ll get sick if you don’t. Besides, Sensei had to go to a lot of trouble to get this stuff, we can’t let it go to waste.”

“But Donnieeeeeee!” Mikey widened his eyes and pouted his lip, attempting to sway his brother with his innocent face.

Don rolled his eyes and looked to Leo once more. “You see what I have to deal with?”

The older turtle’s lip quirked up in a grin and he shook his head in amusement. The minute he was close enough, Mikey grabbed his arm with both hands, holding on for dear life.

“Please don't make me do it, Leo! I think I’d rather get sick! What’s a little runny nose compared to a giant needle!?”

“It’s a lot more than that, Mike. It’s a cough and nausea and a bad fever.” Mikey gave him a ‘so?’ shrug, so Leo elaborated. “Fevers are dangerous, Mikey. Especially to us.” Don noticed him glance at the door. “And do you really want to be nauseous? You couldn’t eat pizza for a week at least.”

Mikey was aghast. “A WEEK!?” He looked from Leo to Don to the needle and couldn’t help but inch away from the pointy object. “But… But…”

Leo moved behind him, holding his shoulder with one hand and holding out the other in offering. “Just squeeze my hand if it hurts. I promise it will be over quick.”

Mikey pouted but nodded in defeat. “Ok. But if I turn into some sort of monster because Dee mixed the medicine wrong, I’m coming for you two first.”

Don rolled his eyes as Leo gripped his brother’s shoulder tighter. “I’ve got you, Mikey. Nothing’s going to happen.”

It was the calm of his brother’s eyes that really hit home. Mikey nodded, held out his arm, and squeezed his eyes shut. “Ok, Dee, do it. I’m ready for it. Just do it quick and get it over wi—“

“Done.”

Mikey stared at his arm as his brother placed a He-Man bandaid over the area. “That was it?”

“Yup.”

“Well why didn’t you just do that to begin with? We could have been done a long time ago. Jeeze, Dee!”

Don face-palmed and turned away from his brother, silently trying to calm himself down.

“So are we done? Can I go now?”

Leo nodded. “Just remember to keep the noise down. Raph needs his rest.”

“You got it, bro!” Mikey zipped out, heading for the living room. A moment later, he popped his head back through the door, finding his eldest brother’s eyes. “Hey Leo.”

“Hm?”

In the blink of an eye he was at his brother’s side, wrapping his arms around his waist and hugging tight. “Thanks.” And he was gone again.

Leo shook his head.

“Why will he listen to you and not me?” Don griped, placing the needle down and putting away the small vial of medicine.

“Because I’m the wise older brother with a calming voice, and you’re the mad scientist with a needle.”

Don couldn’t help a small laugh at how accurate that probably was to Mikey’s thought process. He turned back to his older brother, who was staring at the door again. “He’s gonna be okay.” Leo glanced at him, prompting Don to continue. “His fever’s already going down and his stomach is settling enough that he can have broth. I’m sure he’ll be back to punching walls by the end of the week.”

“I know.”

“Then why the face?”

“I just…” Leo sighed. “I don’t know, Don. Anytime you guys are sick, I get this feeling in my stomach like I wanna throw up, but don’t. What would you call that?”

“Anxiety?”

“Yeah.”

Don nodded. It made sense, but there really was nothing to worry about. Raph was through the worst of it, he just needed sleep and he’d be fine. …Right? “…Do you wanna go check on him? Just to make sure he’s not too cold.”

Leo couldn’t have nodded faster. “Okay.”

Don fiddled with a screw he couldn’t seem to tighten properly.

Even when they were young, Leo’d always been anxious. Always been worried.

He loosened the screw, realigned it, and tried again, finally successful in his attempt. He picked up the next one, twisting it into place with delicate precision.

But back then he was more open about. Before he was made leader, he opened up to Don all the time: about his insecurities, about his fears, about… anything.

Another screw in place, Don reattached the wires he’d cut, slowly making sure everything was put together the way it was meant to be.

Back then, Leo’d play games with them all the time, he’d run around the lair with wild abandon, and he’d even been known to pull a prank or two (so long as it wasn’t on Sensei).

Adjusting the plastic edging around the propellers, Don spun them to make sure they were centered and fastened.

Back then Leo was free. Free to be himself. To play and explore and make mistakes. Then they grew up.

Grasping the screen by the edges, Don placed it over the camera lens and used a q-tip to clean it and press it gently into place.

Suddenly Leo had responsibility. He had to take care of everyone. He had to lead. Be an example. Be perfect.

The panel was placed on top over the new circuitry, carefully screwed and glued so it would remain where it should, despite it’s dented, slightly deformed shape.

He no longer opened up. He no longer let his brothers see the cracks in his flawless persona. He closed off. To keep them same. To keep them from worrying. To protect them from his fears.

Flipping over to lay on it’s back, Don attached the legs, standing it up to make sure they were even and secure.

But Don had always wondered… if Leo had been anxious when they were kids, how much worse had it gotten when they grew up? How difficult it must have been to deal with.

A quick test proved the lights, the propellers, and the camera were all working smoothly.

He’d always wondered what kind of a toll leadership took on his eldest brother. …Now he knew.

Everything was in perfect order. Completely rebuilt. Even improved upon.

Leadership had taken his life.

Don placed his finished drone on the table, turning it off to preserve battery power. All the parts that had been strewn about on the coffee table had disappeared to create this machine. It had taken him all evening, but he’d done it. Without the help of his tools from home.

He’d fixed it. So why… why did it still hurt? Why did his chest still tighten when he breathed? Why did his stomach still churn? Why did his mind shut down every time he thought of…

“I’ve got you. Nothing’s going to happen.”

It couldn’t be fixed. It never would be… Leo… Leo was…

Jolting to his feet, Don headed for the door, grabbing a blanket and the cup of tea Sensei had handed him after coming in from the barn a few minutes ago. “I’m gonna check on Mikey.” And he abruptly left the cabin, leaving a worried Splinter to sit in the living room alone.

“Don’t be such a baby, just let him look at it!”

Michelangelo. Splinter’s sharp ears picked up his son’s voice before even entering the lair.

“How many times I gotta say it? I’m fine!”

Raphael. His booming tone was recognizable even at such a distance.

“You could have muscular damage.”

Donatello. They were all here. All safe.

“Just let me look and make sure the bullet—“

Splinter’s heart spiked so hard and fast, he nearly fell to the floor winded. A bullet. They’d been shot. Again. His fear prevented him from being subtle. “My sons!” He burst through the doors to the medical room, eyes darting about until they found each child: Michelangelo stood near the cabinets full of bandages, frozen in a moment of handing several to his elder brother, Donatello, who was poised tall over Raphael, one hand on his shoulder, looking to be forcing—or attempting to force—him to sit in the stool. Raphael held a hand over his arm, and it wasn’t until Donatello released his brother that Splinter noted the blood. Donatello’s hand was covered in it.

Raphael had turned away to hide his left from view, but Splinter was already at his side.

“Raphael.”

“He’s okay, Sensei.” Don was quick to explain. “A bullet graze on his upper left shoulder and a mild concussion. Nothing that can’t be fixed, if he’d just let me take a look at it.” Don glared at his older brother, directing the second half of that sentence right to his face.

Raph had suddenly gone silent, eyes glaring holes through the floor.

“Sit.” Splinter’s voice was gentle but commanding, and his son didn’t put up a fight, slowly lowering himself onto the stool. His hand still covered the wound on his shoulder firmly. Splinter placed his palm on top of his son’s, gently lifting it away to reveal the blood covered gash. It took every ounce of concentration to keep his fear from screeching across his face in that moment. It wasn’t life threatening, it was a graze, but the fact that it had been so close…

He held his hand out to Donatello. “A cloth, please.” His son dutifully handed him the wet rag he’d been trying to clean his brother’s wound with. Splinter gently placed it atop the injury. It only took a minute to clean away all the blood, at which point Splinter had Donatello examine the gash once more, make sure there was no further damage.

All was well. His son would recover. Splinter stitched up the wound himself.

No one spoke. Not a word. Not even Michelangelo, who was normally quick to add noise where there was none. The walls of the lair were void of any sound. All that could be heard was the breathing patterns of the three turtles, and Splinter carefully listened to each one. Michelangelo breathed in hitches, as though he was holding his breath in fear and then releasing it as he convinced himself everything was alright. Donatello breathed deep and measured, clearly attempting to hold in a powerful bout of anger. And Raphael barely breathed at all. Hardly blinked. Just glared at the floor as though it was the source of all his problems in the world.

They were distant. Not just from him but from each other. Splinter had expected a level of isolation from his children after such a grave loss, but he’d hoped their grief would eventually draw them closer together. If they continued on this path…

As he finished the stitches, Splinter placed the needle on the metal tray beside him, examining his work to be sure it was enough, and closed his eyes, breathing in a deep, low breath. “My sons,”

“It’s not what you think, Sensei!” Michelangelo, already presuming they were in trouble, tried to explain. “We had to go! They’d taken it and were displaying it like a—“

“You didn’t have to go.” Donatello’s anger bubbled with every word he spoke. “And you certainly didn’t have to go alone. You could have told us, we would have helped!”

“I told you, we didn’t have time! We had to move quick or we would have lost our window of attack!” Or at least that was the excuse Mikey was sticking to so as not to throw Raph under the bus. Truth was, they probably could have called Don in. Or Splinter. But Raph was on the warpath, and Mikey had known there was no way he would’ve waited for backup.

Don seethed. “You blew up their base! You didn’t just infiltrate without backup, you blew up the hornet’s nest! Now they’re going to come after us with a vengeance and we don’t have the strength to fight them off if we’re found.”

“So we lay low. We stay down here until things cool off.”

“That’s what we were doing before you two decided to go gallivanting off playing vigilante!” Donatello threw his arms in the air in angry exasperation. “UGH! You guys are infuriating! It’s no wonder Leo—“

The minute the name left his lips, a grenade may as well have gone off. Everyone fell immediately silent when Raph’s eyes snapped over to his brother’s, piercing him with their rage.

“Enough.” Splinter stood, blocking the brothers from glaring at one another. “What is done is done. We cannot change it now. I am simply grateful you all came home safe.” His emphatic tone cooled the animosity of the room somewhat, his children’s shoulders all suddenly slouching in guilt. He continued. “Raphael. Michelangelo.” Only the younger met his gaze. “Help me understand. What had they taken?”

Mikey turned to his older brother in red, waiting for him to reply, but was once again met with silence.

Splinter was about to pry once more when Michelangelo turned to take something from the counter behind him. His demeanour changed immediately, taking on a sombre reverence as he held out the item in his hand. Splinter felt his fur stand on end.

Leonardo’s missing katana.

Chapter Text

The stairs creaked beneath his feet, his heavy footsteps weighed down by the grief on his shoulders.

Four hours. And not a word. Not a single word.

It’s not that he was expecting a long heart to heart, Casey knew better than that. He knew Raph, much like himself, would rather punch out his feelings than speak them. But when they were down—when the anger wouldn’t settle and the violence wasn’t enough—they’d always talk it out. Only with each other. Because they understood. They were of the same blood. The same mind. The same unquenchable rage.

Not this time.

And it wasn’t about the words. Honestly, Casey wouldn’t be surprised if Raph didn’t speak at all for a good week. It’s just how they dealt with pain. But Raph hadn’t just been silent, he’d been absent. Entirely blank. Not angry, not vengeful, not… anything. Four hours Casey sat in that room, watching his friend glare at nothing, teeth chattering and body shivering, and not once did he look like he even knew where he was.

He was just… gone.

And Casey didn’t know what else he could do.

A few years back, when he’d found out his dad was running with the Purple Dragons, he’d clammed up too. Went on numerous violent thug-bashing sprees that would put Chuck Norris to shame. And Raph had been there through all of it. Didn’t ask questions, didn’t try to talk it out or solve the problem, just let Casey blow off steam. And two days in, Casey finally spoke. Spilled his guts to his best friend as they sat on that roof and cleaned the blood from their weapons. And all Raph said was “You need a beer.” and handed one over. And that was that.

Raph knew how to let Casey vent without feeling any… less for it. And Casey gave the same comfort in return. He knew. ‘Cause Raph would come to him anytime he was angry. Anytime he felt he’d failed or him and Leo were fighting…

Anytime.

But now…

Casey sighed as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Maybe Raph just needed more time. Maybe he needed to be alone. Maybe he needed to go out and pummel a few (hundred) drug dealers and bank robbers to work through the mess going on inside. But whatever he needed, wherever Raph was… Casey couldn’t reach him.

The thought dropped like a weight on his gut.

“Casey.”

Blinking back to reality, Casey registered Splinter’s voice and rubbed the back of his neck. “It ain’t good, Splinter. He ain’t…” Casey needed something to hit. “I got a blanket ‘round him to help warm him up, but I don’t think he’ll be eating any time soon.” Splinter’s face was impassable, but Casey could tell that wasn’t news he wanted to hear. “He needs space. Just… give him some room for a while. He’ll come around.” Eventually. Hopefully.

Without thinking about where he was going, Casey found himself in the kitchen, watching April wash dishes that looked like they were already clean. He came behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and breathed her in.

“Casey,” She let him hold her for a moment, leaning into his body and putting down her dishcloth. After listening to several long, deep sighs, she didn’t even need to ask. “That bad?”

Casey rested his temple on the crown of her head, practically burying his face in her hair. “Yeah.”

“He’s hurting. More than he ever has before.” April could feel Casey’s guilt radiating like a stoked fire. “He knows you’re here. That’s enough for now.”

“No, it ain’t.” The tall vigilante stepped back, pulling a chair from the table and sitting down heavily. “It’s times like this I’m supposed to know what to do. How to help. And I got nothin’.” Another sigh blew past his lips as his fist curled and pounded the table. What he wouldn’t give for something to throw right now. “He’s… He’s my best bud, Red. My brother. He’s been there for me through everything: all the crap my dad threw at us, everything that happened with my sister, he even snuck into a busy hospital just to visit me when Shred-head shot me a few years back.”

April nearly shuddered. “I remember…”

“He’s been there for all of it. Fightin’ with me and helping me sort through it all. And now he’s the one who needs a friend, and I… I can’t think of a single thing to do.”

April sat in his lap, draping a comforting arm over his shoulder and letting him rest his head on her chest as she fiddled with his hair.

“He’s gone red. Leo’s gone. And I think he might have taken Raph with him.”

April—not used to Casey being so open without physical violence coming first—kissed his forehead. “We’ll get through this. All of us. I don’t know how, but we will. Raph will come around eventually, and when he does, we’ll be ready to help any way we can.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Casey turned his head into her neck and kissed it. “I just wish there was more we could do. I wish… I wish Leo…”

“I know.” April sighed, holding him close. “Me too.”

Taking the sword in his hands with a feather’s touch, Splinter smoothed his hand down the length of the hilt, feeling every knick and scratch. His eyes closed of their own accord, attempting to hold in the memories threatening to send him into yet another fit of grief. He breathed deep.

“They had it on display in their base like a trophy.” Mikey’s quiet tone held no anger or resentment. Only innocent disbelief. “We tried to sneak it out, but one of the Dragons said something about Leo, and…” He glanced at Raph. “Things got out of hand.”

Raph didn’t say a word, boring a hole in the ground with his unblinking stare.

“I still don’t understand how they got it. Did we leave it on the roof?” That night had become a haze, a thick fog that Don didn’t dare enter for fear of what he’d be forced to see. Again.

Mikey felt the same way. “I can’t remember.”

All eyes landed on Raph. He was still the only one who knew what happened that night. And he still refused to talk about it.

“Raphael.”

Splinter barely got the name out before his son stood and began storming towards the door.

But Don wasn’t letting him get away that easily. He ran ahead, blocking the doorway. “Nuh-uh. You don’t get to just walk away. Not again. Not after what you did tonight.” He watched Raph’s hands curl into fists as he seethed out a breath.

“Move.”

“No.” Don could see the veins bulge from his brother’s wrists as his fingers curled tighter into his palm, but he was still unwilling to move. “You can’t keep avoiding us like this. We deserve to know what happened that night. We deserve to know how our brother died!”

Raph went rigid. “Don’t.”

But Don wouldn’t stop. “You owe us, Raph!”

Couldn’t.

“Owe you!?”

“You owe us for running off tonight!”

“I don’t owe you sh—!”

“You owe us for running off then, too!”

“Don, don’t—!” But Mikey was too late.

“You owe us for getting our brother killed!”

The words rang out in the room like a cathedral bell, hanging in the air and daring someone else to speak. He couldn’t take them back. He didn’t mean them. Did he? He couldn’t blame his brother for what happened… and yet every fibre of his being screamed he should. And Don was far too angry to listen to anything else.

Raphael hadn’t moved. His hands were balled tight, his arms flexed and poised to attack, and his shoulders were practically hunched to his ears. But he didn’t moved.

The silence only brought Don’s rage to a tipping point. Why wasn’t Raph saying anything!? Why didn’t he just tell them what happened!? Why did he have to be so damn stubborn about every—

It was quick. Blink and you would have missed it. But for a moment Don saw it. The pain. The raw, gut-wrenching, nauseating, pain. It streaked through Raph’s eyes like a flash of lightning, covered so quickly with anger that Don thought he must have been making it up.

But the way his own anger suddenly curled in on itself and died, he knew he hadn’t. Raph really was feeling all that. Potently. Constantly.

Don had never felt regret come on so strongly.

“That is enough.” Splinter finally interjected, his hope that his children would talk out their anger and restore peace being dashed with their last words. “My sons, we cannot go on like this. If we are to survive this loss, we must come together and help each other in our grief, not blame one another for it.” He handed Michelangelo the katana and placed a paw on each of his elder son’s shoulders. “Donatello,”

But Donnie was already trying to walk back his words. “I… Raph, I’m—“

An elbow to his side had Don faltering out of the doorway as Raph stormed passed him, stalking away to his room and slamming the door shut with enough force to rattle the walls of the lair.

Splinter knew it unwise to follow. He would allow his son time to calm and focus on the wounds of his younger children. “Donatello,”

“I know... I shouldn’t have…” Don blew out a remorseful sigh. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean…” a sob caught in his throat and it was all he could do just to keep himself from collapsing into tears then and there. He cleared his throat. “I know it’s not his fault. It’s just… if he’d stayed with us, this never would have happened. Leo never would have had to go after him. He’d still be… He wouldn’t have…” Don closed his eyes, overwhelmed with the emotions warring over his mind.

“My son,” Both paws reached up to grasp his son’s tall shoulders, attempting to comfort, not reprimand. “Anger is an unavoidable part of grief. But you cannot let it drive you away from those who love you.”

“I…” Don stared out the door, guilt written all over his face. “…What do I do? How do I let it go?”

Splinter paused a moment before glancing at his youngest son, who remained silent in the corner with an innocent hurt on his face. Like a child caught between to warring parents. “Michelangelo. With me.” He held out his hand, waited for it to be taken, then led his son to the door.

Don watched his father walk away forlornly. “Sensei?”

“Allow yourself to feel it, my son. We will be waiting when you are ready. As long as it takes.” With that, he closed the door.

Donatello stared after them, unable to understand what his father was getting at. Feel what? What was he supposed to feel? He felt nothing. Nothing but anger and bitterness and…

He thought of Leo, his lifeless body lying prone on the roof, drenched in his own blood.

A whine bubbled at the back of his throat.

He thought of Raph, how inconsiderate and dangerous his actions were, and how he’d almost lost him tonight. How he might have just pushed him away for good.

Nausea stirred in his stomach.

He thought of Leo, the worry in his face when he’d found out Raph had left.

He held his breath to keep a sob in.

Leo, sitting by the desk, speaking words of encouragement to keep Don from giving up on his latest project.

Tears welled in his eyes.

Leo, slinging Don’s arm around his shoulders and carrying him to safety during a mission gone wrong.

He couldn’t…

Leo, knocked to the dojo floor by a new move Don had been practicing and smiling at how proud he was to see Don improving.

Keep them…

Leo, reading a book in his spot on the couch and smiling a greeting when Don walked in the room.

In.

A mournful cry ripped from hiss throat, bellowing through the room. He gripped his head, fell to his knees, and wept, all the pain and anger flowing out of him in droves.

Wept for the brother he’d lost.

Wept for the brother he’d hurt.

Wept for the family, the home, the life that would never be again.

“Raph…” Mikey uttered his brother’s name brokenly, his heart heavy at what had happened. As he walked towards the living room, he couldn’t help spy up to Raph’s room. “Shouldn’t we go talk to him, Sensei?”

“Give him time. Approaching your brother now would only drive him further away.”

“But… it wasn’t his fault. We don’t blame him. He should know that…”

Splinter could feel the worry twisting knots in his son’s stomach and draped an arm over his shoulders, prompting Mikey to wrap around his torso in a deep hug.

The young turtle sighed sadly, breathing in the smell of his father’s robe. “He only got hurt tonight because he was protecting me. If anything, Don should be mad at me.”

“Anger does not always follow logic, my son. Donatello’s anger runs deeper than tonight’s events.”

Mikey nodded. He understood Don’s anger… he’d felt it too when they were at the farmhouse. Felt a cruel resentment toward Raph that only faded because of a moment of pain he’d witnessed two months ago. But it was unfair. Just because Raph was the last one to see Leo alive, didn’t mean he was to blame. Mikey couldn’t help but wonder, if it’d been him with Leo on that roof—if he’d been the one to see it all happen—what would he be feeling now?

“Sensei… are we going to be okay?” What if Don never forgave Raph? What if they stayed mad at each other forever? What if Raph ran off again and Mikey wasn’t able to—

A loud anguished cry suddenly echoed through the halls. Mikey turned toward the closed med-room door. His heart was practically lurching from his chest with the desire to run and hug his brother tight. “Sensei—“

“It’s alright, my son.” Splinter stroked Mikey’s head in calming circles. “Your brother is finally allowing himself to feel his loss. We must give him time.”

The continued bellow of agony sent shivers through Mikey’s spine. “But shouldn’t we be with him? Does he have to do it alone?”

“Sometimes that is the only way pain will appear. When we are alone and unhampered by others expectations.” And as much as it pained him to be distant while hearing his son in such agony, he knew this was what Donatello needed most of all.

Permission to feel. To grieve. Away from the eyes of everyone he was so terrified of disappointing.

“But…”

“He knows we are here, Michelangelo. And when he is ready, he will seek comfort. Until then…”

“Patience and faith.” Mikey finished. He’d heard the speech before. It was practically Sensei’s motto. And while it didn’t make hearing Don cry alone any less painful, it was something to hold onto that gave him purpose. He would wait. He would hope. And he’d be ready when his brother needed him. “…What about Raph?”

Splinter closed his eyes a moment, gathering his thoughts as he tried not to let the tormented wails from the other room cloud his mind. “Raphael needs time. He is not yet ready to face his pain.”

Mikey didn’t like that answer. “Isn’t there anything we can do?”

Pulling away slightly, Mikey found his father staring at him with a look that was almost… pleading. “Michelangelo,” Even his tone had changed. Mikey swallowed thickly as he listened. “Your brother is going to avoid this pain as long as he can. And in doing so, he is going to try and push away those who remind him of it. The best thing you can do for him is remain steadfast. When the anger fades and the pain sets in—and it will eventually—he is going to need you to help keep him together. To remind him he is not alone.” Splinter gave his shoulder a light squeeze. “Are you willing to do that?”

Splinter sounded almost… worried. Mikey blinked. He couldn’t believe his father even needed to ask. “Hai, Sensei.”

Anything for his brothers. Anything.

“I’ll be here.”

Gusting winds had picked up outside the barn, snaking through the cracks and slivers of the old wood. Every gust creaked the boards, raising an eerie chorus of ghostly groans. Mikey shivered through his blanket. “It’s almost like a horror film. You know those ones where the teenagers get stuck in some creepy old mansion in the middle of nowhere and are picked off one-by-one by some crazy guy in a mask.” Another squeal of creaking wood echoed through the barn, but Mikey kept his eyes forward. On the black bag. Waiting for a reply. “I know, I know, you hated those movies. You’d always point out the zillion ways they could have escaped if they’d just “analyzed the situation properly”. Or list off the ninjitsu moves they could have used to defeat the enemy. Or how unrealistic the whole plot was in the first place. But you know what I think? I think you secretly enjoyed them.” He cocked his brow up to a coy perch. “Oh yeah! I know you got really into them. You even got scared by one of them! It was on my birthday four years ago when you let me pick the movie after the party, and since I’d just turned twenty-one, I wanted to prove I was old enough to watch the scariest movie of them all—The Ring, obviously—and we all got so freaked out we couldn’t watch movies for a week. I saw your face, you even closed your eyes at one point!” He paused, then nodded his head. “Yes you did.” Paused again, nodding at the bag. “Yes you did, I saw! You started whispering things under your breath to remind yourself it wasn’t real. AND you were the first one to suggest we not watch movies for a while.” Mikey shook his head, a sliver of a smile splitting his lips. “That was so not for our own good, it was because you were scared.” He waited. “Were too!”

A large gust of wind battered the barn, sending up another refrain of creaks and moans. Mikey still stared at the bag in front of him.

“That’s not the only time we’ve seen him scared.”

Mikey blinked, pulling himself from his own thoughts to look up and see Donatello finding a seat opposite him, also draped in a blanket and looking down at the black bag.

“You should drink that before it gets cold.”

A blink of confusion had Don pointing to Mikey’s right, where a steaming cup of tea sat perched beside him. When had Don put that there? Mikey nodded in acknowledgement, but didn’t touch the cup. “What else have we seen that scared him?”

“Not movies, I meant real life. Leo got scared all the time.”

“He did not. Name a time you actually saw him scared—I mean really scared—and it can’t be when we were kids.”

“When we first faced Shredder.” Mikey nearly shuddered at the memory. “He didn’t look it, but his hand trembled slightly until Sensei showed up. Or that time you nearly had your shell knocked off by Tiger Claw.”

Mikey thought a moment. “What about that time you were turned in a giant rage monster? Or when Sensei was taken over by Rat King and attacked us.”

“See, he’s been scared a lot over the years.”

“Yeah, but only for us.” Mikey’s eyes fell back to the bag. “When it came to us, he was a baby! He’d freak out any time we even came close to getting hurt on a mission. But he was never scared for himself. Or at least, never showed it…”

“He’d probably say something about a leader not being allowed to fear for himself.”

“Probably.”

The barn walls ached, moaning against the constant attacking wind. And yet Mikey couldn’t hear any of it. Could only hear the rain. The rain that had been pouring on that roof, washing away Leo’s blood. Washing away his life.

“I wonder… I wonder if he was scared on that roof…” He fidgeted with his blanket. “If he knew he was going to… going to…” A lump caught in his throat. “What if that was the last thing he felt?” His words were barely audible, whispered in fear of actually hearing an answer.

But Don heard them clear as an ear-piercing scream.

He waited for the nausea to pass, swallowing back bits of bile as he closed his eyes. “He wasn’t alone. Raph was with him.”

Mikey’s eyes drooped as he held his blanket closer to himself, knuckles gripping it tight enough to pale. “Yeah…”

Raph was with him. Raph dug the grave.

It was all thanks to…

Raph.

Chapter Text

“It was nothing.” Leo swung his sword parrying his brother’s downward attack and swiping his foot underneath to throw him off balance.

Raph jumped, attacking from the air. “Uh-huh.”

“Honest.” blade in front of him, Leo blocked the blow and locked weapons with his brother, both widening their stances to gain leverage as they pushed against each other’s weight. “He just wanted to talk.”

“Cut the bull, Leo. If it were nothing, you wouldn’t be up at this hour.”

“I’m always up early.”

“Not this early.”

Leo’s foot began to inch backward under his brother’s force. “Maybe I just wanted some extra practice.” He grunted as he tried to hold his ground.

Raph glared. “You wanna play it that way? Fine.” In an instant, Raph spun out of the lock to stand behind his brother and rounded his foot on the floor to sweep under the leader’s legs.

Leo was caught off guard. Raph could see him follow the move with his eyes, he knew what was about to happen, but couldn’t move in time to stop it. His face was suddenly kissing the tatami mats, legs sprawled out and hands gripping his katana for dear life. He blinked up at the red bandana towering over him with a disapproving frown.

“Only way I ever get that move past you is when you’re distracted.” The two locked stares, silently refusing to relent from their positions. Finally, Raph offered his brother a hand. “If you don’t wanna talk about it, fine. But don’t lie, Leo. I know you too well.”

“You can be very observant when you want to be.” Leo conceded, taking the offered hand and glancing at his brother guiltily. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Raph crossed his arms and grunted. “Yeah, yeah.” He noticed Leo’s eyes still looking… distant. “Hey… You sure you’re okay? Did Sensei scold you or something?” Raph wasn’t so good at the feelings stuff, but it was strange to see Leo worried and not be willing to talk about it.

Leo always told him everything.

“No, it’s…” Leo grabbed up his katana, sighing deeply. “I don’t think I’ll be able to get back to sleep. And I wouldn’t object to a rematch, if you’re up for it.”

Raph guffawed, fully aware his brother was changing the subject, but too tempted by the next fight to bring it up. “Fine by me. I never get tired of knocking you on your ass.”

Leo chuckled. “How do you know I wasn’t taking it easy on you?”

“I told you.” Raph twirled his sai with glee. “I know you too well.”

“That was the night before Sensei announced I was leader, wasn’t it?” Leo watched the fight play out in front of him like a movie.

“Yeah.”

“I remember. He’d talked to me about it before bed and it freaked me out so much I couldn’t sleep.” Leo glanced at his brother who glared at the floor.

“You could have told me.”

“I was afraid you’d be angry.”

“I was.”

“I know.” A long silence passed as the two sat in the dark. “Why did you want to be leader so badly? You saw what it did to me. It wasn’t always a fun job. And it was never easy.”

“It wasn’t about the title.” The sceptically cocked brow flung in his direction made Raph growl. “It wasn’t entirely about the title. It was…”

“That it made you feel unworthy?”

“A little… and—“

“That it made you feel like Sensei didn’t love you as much?”

“…Yeah, maybe, but—“

“That it put me above you?”

“That it changed you. It changed us. It changed… everything.” Leo’s eyes softened as he watched Raph’s muscles tense. “That night… that was the first time you wouldn’t let me in. The first time you tried to “protect” me from something you thought would hurt. It was…”

“Our first step apart.” Leo saw his brother nod solemnly before baring his teeth as he gripped his sai in each hand.

“I hated what being ‘leader’ turned you into. What it turned us into. I hated that it made us… separate.” He clenched his jaw tight, grinding his teeth. “And I hated you for letting it happen.”

“Oh believe me, that part I knew.” Noticing the flinch Raph tried to hide, Leo shook his head. “You still don’t get it.” Stepping around the punching bag, he walked toward his brother curled in the corner of the room. “It’s never been that you need me. I know you don’t.”

“What?” Raph looked up, confused, as Leo reached out and touched his shoulder.

“It’s that I…”

Leo’s face was so gentle. So soft. So… pale. There was blood pouring from his stomach. Down his cheeks. Raph’s heart beat faster. “No…”

“It’s that I…”

“No!”

“M’Sorry…”

“LEO!”

My own voice echoes around me, ringing numbly in my ears like a morning alarm clock. The fog around my mind begins to lift as the darkness fades, allowing light to fringe my vision. First thing that hits me is the smell of blood. Leo’s blood. Feel it dripping down my hands, draining away with the rain. I can hear his last breath cough out beneath me. Beneath my hands on his stomach. My hands full of blood…

A pang in my arm brings me back to my senses, glancing at the bandages wrapped around my deltoid and shoulder. Thick, red, blood is seeping through. Must have pulled a stitch. Maybe it was my own injuries I smelled and not…

I give my head a firm shake, trying to spring lose the cobwebs. It’s too dark to see much, but I know I’m in my room. I’d recognize that faint musky odour anywhere. And I know I’m alone. If any of the others were here, they’d be swarming me to fix up my arm or throw more questions at me.

Questions about that night. About what happened. About how Leo…

And I can’t answer any of them. I can’t. It’s too… It’s too…

I can’t remember how I got here. Back home. Can’t remember why I’d left in the first place. Can’t remember…

This ain’t the first time. Been happening on and off since that night. Since…

My mind’s been scrambled. Lost in a rage so thick I can’t breathe when I try to dig through it. I get bits and pieces every once in a while—Sensei askin’ me what happened on the roof, April cryin’ when she saw the body, Casey sittin’ beside me at the farmhouse, —but nothin’ solid. Nothin’ I can hold onto for longer than a moment.

“You ain’t my leader. You ain’t Leo!”

Just pieces.

“I said. Go Home.”

Sharp and jagged.

“GET DOWN!”

Refusing to fit together.

The only firm memory I’ve had in the last three months was Don punching me out for wantin’ to leave the lair. Solid blow. Didn’t think the egg-head had it in him. Somehow it brought clarity. The throbbing pain was something to cling to, kept me grounded. But then he said something—“I’m not losing another brother to”—and I lost my grip again. Lost it… can’t remember…

My head is killing me.

I do remember the anger. The rage. The burning hatred for those repulsive thugs that dared attack my family. That stole something from us. Something precious. Something irreplaceable. They deserve a fate worse than death. They deserve my fury. My violence. My madness.

They deserve to be punished. Punished by me. And it should be as painful as I want. As violent as I picture. As excruciating as I feel.

I don’t want justice. I want revenge. I want brutality. Crave it. Demand it.

I want death.

“You shouldn’t think like that.”

I hear his voice clear as a bell. Not in my head, not someone else, just… there. But it’s as familiar to me as my own reflection.

“A life for a life never got anyone anywhere. You know that.”

As grating and condescending as it always was. Patronizing. Like he’s talking down to a child.

“It was one of the first things Sensei taught us before he began our training. We don’t use our skills for revenge or personal gain. Only to help others. Only to protect.”

He always did think I was stupid.

“No I don’t.”

I nearly flinch at how suddenly his voice appears beside me. He did that on purpose. He’s trying to freak me out. “Don’t what?”

“Think you’re stupid. Never have.”

I can’t help but snort my derision. “Uh huh."

I can’t see him—he’s not really there—but I know he’s looking at me with those kind eyes. Kind and sad. Almost guilty.

“Tell them…”

No. No, we ain’t doin’ this now! “Leo—!”

“M’Sorry…”

Enough. Enough! Make it “STOP!” I scream. I think. I don’t know. Can’t think straight. Can’t focus. It’s too much. Too much—too much blood! Leo’s—

—pushing even harder on his stomach as blood squelches through my fingers. I think I’m gonna be sick.

My fists are clenched so tight, my knuckles pale and veins are popping all along my arm. It won’t go away. Won’t leave me alone! Just leave me—!

“Rapahel.” Suddenly he’s right in front of me, standing tall, looking down at me with his head cocked to the side like some malicious predator who finally corned his prey. I can see him… but he’s not there. Is he?

My pulse quickens and I feel dread pumping through my veins like a potent drug. Alarm bells are going off and every nerve in my body is on edge. This is wrong. This is all wrong. I need to do something. I need to stop this!

But if it stops, he’ll…

“Don’t you—“But his eyes are closed and his hand falls to the ground and I realize it wasn’t his hand that was shaking, it was mine. The rain seems to freeze in it’s downpour as suddenly everything goes completely silent. Still. Empty.

“Leonardo!”

Blood consumes the room in a thick fog, choking itself down my throat. I can taste it. Feel it squelching through my fingers. Not again. Not again! I jerk my eyes shut and reflexively grip my sai. “I said stop!”

“Tell them...”

“LEO!” My own howl bellows through the room like a freight train, a mixture of anger and sorrow too deep to name. My hands aren’t enough to keep it from echoing in my ears, loud and clear and all consuming. I curl in on myself, trying to block it out. Block everything out.

I can’t believe he’s…

The cry fades as suddenly as it began, but I wait a few moments—out of fear, out of dread, out of paranoia—before finally opening my eyes. And it’s all gone. The blood, the noise, the screams, it’s all disappeared as though it was never there.

As though he was never…

Again and again and again. Can’t keep my grip on what is. What was is too powerful. Can’t stop it. Can’t.

I shake my head again, throwing my hand against a wall to remind me what’s real. At least this time I stayed in my room. Most times when I come to, I’m somewhere else: on a roof, in a warehouse, or pounding on a goon I can’t remember chasin’. Last time it happened, Mikey was almost—

“Take them! Before they escape!”

“Quick, Raph! The window!” Mikey cried, directing his brother to their nearest—and only—exit. If they were quick enough, they could get out before every gun in the place loaded and locked on them.

“It was too easy.”

Mikey heard the Dragon behind them but didn’t stop. Raph did.

“After all these years, we were beginning to think you all were impossible to kill. But that guy went down without a fight at all. One bullet. Dead. Gotta admit, I was a bit disappointed.”

If Mikey could see Raph’s muscles tensing and temper flaring, then the idiot Dragon who was goading him on definitely could. Mikey strode towards his brother, panic threatening to leak into his eyes at how many thugs were now heading toward them with guns cocked and ready. “Dude, forget him. We gotta go!”

“Will you all go down so easy, or was it just him? Was he just weak?”

Raph’s fingers curl around his sai. Murder dripped from his bandana to his hilt.

Mikey tried to intervene. “Raph, don’t. We have to—“

But the Dragon didn’t get the hint. “I don’t even remember his name. He wasn't anything special. Just another kill. Another notch in the belt. He’ll be forgotten in a week.”

The Dragons moved closer and Mikey’s heart pounded like thunder in his chest. “Raph!”

“He was nothing. He died as nothing. And so will—“

“—You.”

Mikey blinked and suddenly the man was frozen, blood dripping from his lips and a sai through his throat. Did Raph just—

“All of you.” Raph pulled the man closer, anger spewing like venom as he brought their faces inches apart, his sai digging deeper into flesh. “Like ants beneath my boot.”

“Raph!” Grabbing his brother’s arm, Mikey tried once more to shake him from his rage. He glanced at the surrounding Dragons—thirty strong, at least—and Mikey felt his heart dropping to his stomach. “We’re too late.” There was no way they could take them all. His grip tightened in fear as he looked to his elder. “What do we do?”

But Raph wasn’t there. His eyes were filled with nothing but malice. Loathing. He wouldn’t stop glaring at the skewered body as it dripped blood down his hand.

One of the men smirked. “Looks like you’re out of escapes.” He raised his hand in the air. “FIRE!”

Mikey tackled his brother behind the crates beside them, crawling to shelter behind one of the metal pillars. As he peaked his eyes open amidst the barrage of bullets, he eye caught sight of something lobbed into the air. Grenade!

He leapt above the bombardment, swinging his nunchuck and knocking the explosive towards the center of the room where all the ammunition was in the midst of being unloaded from their crates. Throwing himself beside his brother, he closed his eyes.

The ensuing explosion encompassed half the warehouse. All the men were either consumed by the fire or blown back by the blast. Mikey peeked up to survey his work, nodding as he noted the fire providing good cover to allow them to run. He stood, moving towards the window to make sure it was still possible to get out.

That’s how Mikey told it. But I only remember a few moments after… that’s when the haze finally cleared and the red drained from my vision. I’d barely had time to compute that we weren’t in the lair when I saw the grenade heading for Mikey.

Nearly got my baby brother killed, and I can’t even remember why. Why did I go to that warehouse? Why in the hell did I bring Mikey?

What would I have done if he’d been…?

The thought brings a bout of nausea rumbling through my system. I swallow thickly trying to keep it all in.

Mikey could have been murdered. Because of me.

Like Leo.

Because of—

“You owe us!”

The moment is suddenly flashing before me like lightning. Piercing.

“You owe us for running off tonight!”

Blinding.

“You owe us for running off then, too!”

Excruciating.

“You owe us for getting our brother killed!”

My gut churns again and I barely have a chance to grab the nearest bin before my stomach relieves itself of what little food and bile is left in it.

He’s right. Don’s right. He should blame me. They all should hate me. They must. I would.

I do.

“You still… don’t get it.”

Not again, not again! That voice. That posture. That blue bandana, covered in blood. Because of his stupid protective instincts. Because he couldn’t let me handle a fight on my own. Because… Because I…

“That it’s not—“

He’s in front of me staring me down with that stupid smile and those eyes… those sad, guilty eyes…

“That I—“

I growl at him, teeth bared and muscles tense. “Stop. You can’t be here. You’re can’t. You’re—”

“S-Still here.”

He’s kneels in front of me, eyes mere inches from mine. If I wasn’t already against a wall, I’d have flinched back again. He’s not there, but I can see him. So much blood… I can’t stand the sight of it. The red taking over the blue.

But I can’t look away. If I look away he’ll disappear. He’ll…

“M’Sorry.”

I can’t… I can’t…

I can’t breathe! My lungs burn, my chest heaves, and I feel like I’m being torn in two! It hurts so much I want to scream!

Suddenly he sits beside me, another memory following him into the room. He bumps my shoulder with his, just enough to let me know he’s there, but not enough to invade my space. The panic subsides ever so slightly. “This was a good one. This was at the farmhouse after Shredder ambushed me. You helped me make my new swords, remember.”

I pant, trying to grab my breath and keep it steady. “Yeah…” It’s one of my most cherished memories. I never told him…

“You were so patient. So understanding. I didn’t say it then, but I was really impressed with how well you handled everything.”

“Yeah?” I feel his shoulder bump mine again, and the pain in my chest starts to dissolve.

The room is disappearing as the memory takes over. Can’t stop it. Can’t… Hurts too much.

I close my eyes.

“Lookin’ good, Leo.”

“Raph, I’m not in the mood!”

Chapter Text

“This is a bad idea.”

Leo handed Don his shell-cell to force eye contact. “It’s not that big a deal.”

“It is too, and you know it. I’ve never done anything like this before. I’ve never had to lead the whole team into a big mission like this!”

“You’ve led plenty of missions over the years.”

“Well this one’s different.”

“It’s no more difficult than any other—“

“But you’re not going to be there!” Don turned away from his brother, solidly placing his shell between his solemn face and Leo’s wide eyes. “Anytime I’ve ‘led’ a mission, it’s been in the middle of one you already started, and you were right there the whole time, ready to take over if anything went wrong. Which it did. Almost every time.”

“Donnie…”

“Look, I appreciate your faith in me, but I’m just not ready for this. I know my strengths, and I’m not meant to be the one calling the shots. It should be—“

“Who? Who should it be if not you? Raph?”

“Well why not? He’s done it without you before. And he can be pretty intuitive, when he keeps a cool head long enough to actually think.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust him to lead, Don, it’s that…” A rough sigh blew from Leo’s nose. “He’s been… angry, lately. Distant. More so than usual. I don’t know what’s clouding his head, but I doubt forcing more responsibility on his shoulders will help.”

“And you think having me order him around is going to make anything better?”

“I think…” He paused a moment, likely trying to find the right words. “I think, for this mission, you’re the best choice. If I could be out there with you, I would, but…” Don turned enough to see his brother glare down at the bandages around his torso. “My doctor tells me it’s too soon to be moving around. Apparently a bullet to the chest requires rest in order to heal. Go figure.”

“Great. The first time you actually listen to my advice, and it ends up biting me in the shell.” That got a small chuckle from the elder, which actually managed to relax Don’s shoulders ever-so-slightly. “I just… what if I mess it up? What if something goes wrong? What if… what if I get someone hurt?”

He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Leo, an unfaltering and trusting smile splitting his lips. “Then you’ll fix it. Like you always do.”

Don breathed in deep. He hated every bit of this, but he was running out of arguments to throw at his brother. He smiled shakily. “Are we sure there’s no one else? What about Sensei? Or Leatherhead? He’s a brilliant guy, probably great with strategy.”

“Mikey offered to take over if you refused.”

Don groaned. “Fine, fine. I’m going. But one of these days I’m going to call your bluff and actually let Mikey lead a mission.”

“I’ll get the fall-out bunker ready.”

Don snorted a laugh and turned to head off to his lab and prepare for the duty ahead of him.

“Donnie.”

“I know, I know! I’ll pack extra snacks for Mikey.” But when Leo didn’t return his humour, Don turned. “What?”

“I wanted… I wanted to say… Thank you. For… you know…”

He watched Leo glare at the bandages once more and understood, both what his brother was thanking him for and how much it was killing him to stay behind because of it. “Just don’t make me do it again, okay? It wasn’t…” He sighed once more, not wanting to think about the terror of four nights ago. But the trauma forced itself before his eyes like a macabre puppet show:

The bullet had hit Leo so close to the heart, it was a miracle he’d managed to live through it in the first place, let alone the operation. And that was as close to open-heart surgery as Don ever wanted to get. His hands hadn’t stopped shaking till just this morning.

He’d thought for sure Leo was going to die.

He’d sat by his brother’s bedside for hours before he woke up, trying to imagine how they would cope in a world without Leo.

The thought of it was too much. He’d cried. Held Leo’s hand and wept like a frightened child. It had taken several minutes for him to calm down enough to realize he wasn’t alone: Mikey had hugged him across his shoulder, Raph had clamped an arm around his shell, and Sensei kneeled by his side, gently reminding him to breathe when his sobs made him forget.

It had been so close. Far too close.

Don’s hands started trembling again. He shook his head to be rid of the memory. The fear. Suddenly unable to stop himself, he turned on his heels, marched back to his brother, and grabbed him into a tight, unrelenting, hug. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

It took a moment, but Leo leaned into it, returning the embrace with an emphatic sigh. “Me too, Don.”

Me too.

The echo of his brother’s voice began to fade, drawing Don’s brows together in a tight knit as he tried to understand. His eyes fluttered slowly open, blinking in the darkness as he found his bearings. He was on the floor… in the med bay? He must have fallen asleep. First time in days. Someone had placed a pillow under his head and covered him in a blanket. “Leo?” The name lit a fire in his chest that his tired mind wasn’t able to make sense of.

What a dream… the worst nightmare Don had experienced since he was a kid. He’d been startled by night visions of his brothers dying before, but never like this. Never this intense. Almost real.

Sitting up slowly, Don felt his head spinning already. And his eyes stung. A lot. “Leo?” He called, glancing around the room. If he slept here because he was over-worked, Leo was sure to be close by. He hovered like a nurse-maid when he thought they were pushing themselves too hard. “Leo, can you get the lights?” Again. There it was again. The hollow ache in his chest when he said his brother’s name. Why? What could—

What if it wasn’t a dream?

“He’s been shot.”

No…

“Where else could we take him? There aren’t any parks secluded enough that we could bury him around here.”

Oh please, god, no…

“We stay hidden, and we stay safe. And I don’t care how pissed off you are, I’m not losing another brother to your temper!”

It was real. Leo was…

“Why didn’t you just listen for once!? Why didn’t you follow orders!? If you hadn’t left, he might still be—“

And Raph…

“You owe us for getting our brother killed!”

Guilt boiled in Don’s stomach like a volcano waiting to erupt. He’d really said those things. Felt them. Meant them. How could he… to his own brother? Raph was in as much pain as the rest of them, Don should be more understanding of that. And yet… despite all the logic, he still couldn’t dissolve the anger bubbling under his skin. He couldn’t forgive Raph. He wanted to—he didn’t want to blame his brother in the first place—but the anger…

He felt like he was going to hurl.

Remembering his weeping session before passing out, Don understood why his eyes were sore and his head throbbed. He hadn’t cried like that since he was eighteen years old and they all thought they’d lost Mikey to a dimensional tear after a mission with Renet. He was returned two weeks later, but those fourteen days had been pure hell.

Like this was now.

Another chill ran up his spine as Don shook the memory out. He was tired of memories. Time to get back in the here and now. The present.

The present where Leo was dead. Where Don was lost. Where Raph was closing himself off from his family because Don was pushing him away.

He breathed deeply. He should apologize. To Raph and to Mikey. He should make this right. He was still angry—seething—but it wasn’t fair to his brothers. It wasn’t their fault. The Dragons killed Leo, not Raph. Why Don was having such a hard time convincing himself of that, he couldn’t say, but he would repeat it until he believed it.

Standing on shaky legs, Don headed for the door and immediately regretted it. The light from the living room was too aggressive for his sensitive head at the moment, and a dull throbbing began pounding at the back of his skull.

“Morning Sleeping Beauty.”

The voice was far too chipper for Don’s mood right now, but he was still happy to hear it. He turned to Mikey—a slight smile adorning his face, which hadn’t been there in a long time—and attempted a wave. “How long was I out?”

“A full twenty-four hours, dude, and I still don’t think it was enough.”

Don tried to digest that without getting flustered. A whole day? He’d been out a whole day? Last time he slept that long was after being mutated by Bishop’s virus. Leo had been adamant that he stay in bed.

“I should have made you rest when you were sick. I’m not making that mistake again.”

He shook the voice from his head, offering a small smile to the worried look on Mikey’s face. “Where’s Sensei?” Mikey only pointed towards the dojo. Don gulped, still unwilling to even look in that direction. “Meditating?”

The younger nodded. “He sat outside your door for a few hours, then moved to Raph’s. Been in the dojo since morning.” He shrugged hesitantly. “His face when we got home… I think we really freaked him out. We shouldn’t have left without telling him.”

Don sighed, feeling his guilt volcano rumble. “Yeah.”

“…Or you.” Mikey’s eyes suddenly found the floor as he rubbed his arm. “I’m really sorry, Don. We shouldn’t have—we didn’t mean to—it was just…” He paused, glancing up with remorse plastered all over his face. “I’m sorry.”

Don watched his brother as he bore his shame on his sleeve, his own guilt boiling hotter and hotter. He wanted to tell Mikey it wasn’t his fault. He wanted to say his own apology. He wanted to make the guilt to lift from both their shoulders. But the words just wouldn’t come. “Mikey…”

“You were right to be angry. …Leo would’ve—“

The minute their deceased brother’s name left Mikey’s lips, Don’s arms shot around his shell, pulling him into a deep hug that even he hadn’t expected. None of the words that flooded his mind to say actually made it out of his mouth. Not the explanation that he wasn’t angry but terrified, not the apology for shouting when he shouldn’t have, nor the adoration he felt at seeing his brother squaring his shoulders and trying to do what he could to help his family as it fell apart. None of it. The only utterance that left his lips slipped out as he clung tight to his baby brother and held on for dear life. “You’re here. You’re alive. That’s all that matters to me.”

Mikey didn’t miss a beat. The moment he heard Don’s words—felt the desperation in them—he returned the hug with fervour.

Neither turtle noticed as their embrace lasted several minutes, bringing much needed comfort to both. With one final squeeze, Don released his brother, taking a moment to breath back the emotions sweeping through. No time for tears. Not now.

“I… I need to talk to Raph.”

“Your brother has yet to come out of his room.” Both turtles turned to see Splinter enter, an unusual heaviness to his steps. He walked up to Donatello with a gentle smile and a comforting touch to his shoulder. “How are you feeling, my son?”

“Better.” Don’s head was still throbbing and his eyes were sorer than the time he’d spent two full days in front of his computer with no sleep, but he felt… lighter. Less clouded. “Thank you, Sensei. I’m sorry I—“

But Splinter raised his hand and stopped the apology before it was voiced. “Anger is a necessary part of grief, my son. I am overjoyed you have found your way through it.” He cupped Donatello’s chin in his paw. “It is good to see the light in your eyes again.”

Don smiled, content to share this moment of peace with his father and brother, until guilt raised it’s voice once more. “I only got through it because I took it out on all of you. …Raph especially.” He pulled his eyes from the floor, not allowing his own self-pity to surface again. “Where is he?”

The other two shared a worried stare.

“He’s still in his room.” Mikey sighed worriedly. “Hasn’t moved from there since last night.”

Don’s eyes followed to his brother’s bedroom door, but his feet remained planted where they were. What was he going to do? What could he say? He’d all but accused Raph of murdering their brother… there was no walking back from that. His mind was reeling, fighting for any idea that he didn’t immediately deem as trivial and ill-advised, when his father’s calm voice broke his train of thought.

“Your brother is suffering as much as any of us. He needs to know he is not alone.”

“I know… but how do I—“

“Be open with him, my son. Tell him what you are feeling.”

Don sighed. Somehow he didn’t think explaining how his anger stemmed from the gaping maw of grief continuously attempting to suffocate him at every turn, and that he didn’t actually mean what he said—he didn’t. He couldn’t—would make his brother feel any better. But then, what else was there for him to say? He sucked in a thick, protracted, and hesitant breath, waiting for some sort of divine intervention to help him in that moment. None came.

“Ok.” He conceded, forcing his feet to move towards the stairs. Mikey and Splinter waited below, watching as Don walked to the door, offering their support with kind smiles anytime he glanced back with hesitancy.

Don stood in front of the door for a good long minute, staring at the aged metal. He noted many scrapes and scars near the door handle, clearly left by being shut too forcefully. Raph and his temper… It drove Leo crazy when Raph slammed the—

Don sighed deeply.

“Raph?” His voice croaked out as he rapped on the door lightly. “Raph, it’s Don.” Not that his brother wouldn’t recognize his voice, but he felt the need to say it. “…We need to talk.” He waited, listening patiently for any sign of movement on the other side. Nothing. Clearing the doubt from his voice, Don tried again, stronger in conviction. “Raph, open up. I know I’m the last person you want to see right now, but I—“ Fear of his brother’s wrath suddenly halted his words, but Don was quick to push past. “Please… Please let me in.” Still no sign of movement. Not even a grunt of disapproval. “Raph?” He rapped on the door harder. Perhaps more force was needed. “You know I can pick the lock if I have to. Open the door.” But it remained closed, with nothing but silence behind it.

Something was wrong. It came out of nowhere and as suddenly as a gust of wind, but the dread pumping through Don’s veins and sending a chill down his shell wasn’t a figment of his imagination. And he didn’t dare ignore it.

“Raph?” He rattled the doorknob, noting that it wasn’t locked, but merely stuck. He jiggled to and fro, trying to release it from whatever held it.

“Dude,” Mikey came up the stairs, suddenly worried. “He could be asleep! You don’t want to wake the beast if he’s—“

“He’s not asleep. We have to get in. Help me—“ The door jarred suddenly, opening and taking Don with it as it screeched into the room. The tall turtle righted himself, blinking in the darkness and waiting for his eyes to adjust as Mikey and Splinter joined him. “Raph?”

But once again, the room remained completely silent. Still.

Alarm bells shrieked in Don’s head. This was wrong. This was all wrong. “I don’t see him.”

“I don’t see anything.” Mikey whined, searching for the light on the wall. He found it quickly and flicked it on, but the sight that greeted him was anything but comforting. “Whoa…” Weights lay strewn about the floor like bodies, the bed and hammock both looked as though they hadn’t been touched in months, and cracks and holes littered the walls, most in the shape of Raph’s fist. Several stained with blood. “Dude...”

“Raphael.” Splinter’s hair was beginning to stand on end, even more so when he found vomit in the waste bin. Too long… he’d waited too long!

Don felt something under his feet and stopped to take a look; a photo. A picture of their family that April had taken last Christmas. But there was a sai shaped hole drilled through one face. Raph’s face.

And just like that, the light bulb flicked on. Something so obvious that Don couldn’t believe it took him this long to understand. So obvious… if he’d only bothered to pay attention.

Self-loathing. The room was dripping with it.

“Maybe he’s hiding out in the garage? Slipped out to work on his bike or something?” Mikey offered meekly, unable to take his eyes off the blood on the walls.

But Don knew for a fact Raph hadn’t gone near his bike since Leo… Heart racing in his chest—with guilt, with fear, with the sudden panic that Raph wasn’t where he should be—Don scoured the room with his eyes, searching for any sign of his brother. But it was what he didn’t see that caught his attention. “…I don’t think he’s hiding.”

Raph’s sai. His sai weren’t in the room. The weapons that never left his side weren’t in the room.

Don’s heart dropped to his stomach.

“Raph’s gone.”

Chapter Text

“No.”

The face was pale. White. Almost blue. He’d always looked good in blue. It suit him. Matched the colour of his eyes. Those condescending eyes that held nothing but steady disappointment. Arrogance. Superiority.

Fear.

But he was never afraid. He was Fearless. Always. Fearless eyes framed with blue. But this blue wasn’t right. This blue didn’t suit. This blue was different… all wrong.

“No… No no no…”

Red seeped out around him, covering his prone body with it’s vibrant hue. It spilled towards his head, seeping into the tails of his bandana. His blue bandana. The wind kicked up, taking the tails with it, the blue dancing about in their grasp, it’s steady flicker keeping the red at bay. A fight. Blue vs. Red. Always fighting. Always.

“Stop it. Stop it!”

A loud crack rang out in the night, filling the air with the smell of gunpowder. Suddenly the wind stilled, the blue bandana tails falling slowly to the ground. Spent. Unable to fight. The red charged in, seeping up the tails towards the mask covering his face. Red won. Red vs. Blue. Red took over. The blue was disappearing. Disappearing.

Gone. Only red remained. No more blue. No more…

“NOOOOOO!”

His hand moves from his stomach, dripping with red, and grasps mine. It’s cold—freezing!—but his grip is strong. Adamant. “You still… don’t get it.” The voice snakes through the air, biting at my skin like needles. It’s painful. Surprisingly so. I should leave. I shouldn’t be here.

But I can’t let go of his hand.

“That it’s not—“ a cry of pain erupts around me, but his lips remain still. It’s loud. So loud it’s shaking the ground. “That I—“ Red sputters from his mouth, dribbling down his chin to drip into the pool beneath him.

Something in his voice. Something eternally sad.

The cry grows louder, piercing with agony. The ground quakes under it’s sheer density, violently shaking and rumbling until it finally begins to split asunder from the magnitude. Red spills from him, flooding the ground, consuming all it comes in contact with.

I have to run. I have to get out. It’s going to consume me too. It’s going to take me with it. It’s going to pull me under and burry me in it’s tendrils and I won’t be able to stop it.

And suddenly I’m not sure I want to.

Why not let it have me? Why not? Red’s always been my color. Let the red take me. Let it.

His hand suddenly grips me tight, his nails digging into my flesh. Red is filling everything up, the ground pulls itself apart, the seams screaming toward me as though I’m the source of it’s anguish. And all I can do it wrap my fingers around my brother’s hand and close my eyes.

Let it have me.

“Raphael.”

I gasp a hard breath as my eyes spring open, darting all around in an attempt to get my bearings. They come to rest on a blue bandana, wrapped around worried eyes, standing in front of me and grasping my hand. Anchoring me. Holding me upright. “Leo?”

“You alright?”

His voice is calm, steady, but there’s an underlying current of concern that I can tell he’s trying to hide. I could always tell. I know him too well. “What… what happened?”

He moves slowly, gently, but keeps his grip firm as he helps me to a nearby bench, lowering me down before my shaking legs give way beneath me. I stare at his bandana. No red. Just blue. Blue as the sea. As the sky. As his calm, condescending, worried eyes. “You were in the middle of cussing me out for following you tonight when you suddenly stopped talking and closed your eyes. You looked like you were about to pass out.”

I sit quietly as his hand leaves mine to lift my bandana and stare at my pupils, then drags itself across my brow, pausing as he contemplates his conclusion. There’s no red on his hand. None at all. Green skin. Not pale, not blue, not the sickly grey of the dead. Green.

“You don’t have a fever, but your eyes look a little red. Is it a headache?” His eyes are inspecting me and I want to get angry at the way he’s coddling me like a child, but I’m so relieved to hear his stupid voice again that I can’t seem to get the fires of anger stoked.

“Raph? Raphael.” His tone is getting more worried with each moment I remain silent. But I can’t speak. I can’t move. Can’t… It could break it. Could shatter the moment. Could let the red back in. My gaze moves to his stomach… not a drop of red. Nothing. Nothing but yellow plastron, and a leather belt, both marred with scars from living, but neither torn open. Neither broken. No more—

“Raph.”

I blink, his face suddenly in front of me as he squeezes my shoulder and crouches to my level. He’s looking at me with those eyes again. But they’re softer. His eye ridges bent up with honest concern, not furrowed in patronizing worry. His other hand—three fingered and green like mine, not covered in blood, not silent and still—reaches up and grips my other shoulder, gently squeezing like he does when he’s trying to make me feel better after I screw up.

“Is there anything I can do?”

I can’t remember the last time I heard him sound so… kind. So understanding. And so worried. Always worried. Why is he always worried? Why this time? “Why?” My voice croaks out without prompt.

“You’re crying.”

He sounds hurt. Like he can feel my pain. Or wishes it was his. Can’t just worry about his own damn problems, has to stick his nose in mine. Has to try and make everything better, even when I don’t ask. Even when I don’t need him. When I don’t want him to. Even when it’s dangerous. When it could get him hurt. When it could get him—

I think I’m still crying. And I don’t think I can stop.

Suddenly his arms are around me, wrapped around my shoulders, gripping my shell and pulling me in so close I can hear his breath. Feel his heart beating ever so slightly faster. I want to hug him back. Want to push him away and tell him to get lost. Want to shout at him for trying to help. Want to beg him not to leave me.

But I can’t move. I can hear his breath and feel his heart beating and I can’t move or speak or I’ll lose it. I need to feel his heartbeat. I need to know it’s there. I need…

“I’m here, bro. Whatever’s going on… I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Whatever’s going on—he doesn’t know. Neither do I. Yet I can’t help but find his confusion hilarious. The all-knowing, all-wise leader doesn’t have a clue what’s happening right now. Doesn’t know why I feel like I’m dying. Doesn’t know why I can’t even feel the tears. Doesn’t know about the red…

Doesn’t know how much I—

“Dammit, Leo…” I should cuss him out. Push him away. Deal with this alone. I always deal with things alone.

Except I don’t. I try to. But my family… my brothers… they’re always there. They’re always trying to help. Leo’s always trying to…

“Dammit Leo!” My voice is loud and jagged and filled with an emotion that I’ve never felt so potently before in my entire life. Desperation.

“Dammit! LEO—“

But he cuts me off before I can say anything else, pulling me closer, holding me tighter, almost as desperate to hang on as I am. “I’m here, Raph. I’ve got you.”

The damn breaks, the wall comes down, the spike in my chest that’s kept me frozen for months finally gives way. My arms charge out like they’ve been shot from a canon, wrapping around my brother’s shell to grip him in a hug like none I’ve ever given.

But my arms meet air. They go right through him. I jerk back, my mind already beginning to panic as I watch his body fade away. Our eyes lock and I see the fear in his as potently as I feel in my own. But it’s not for himself. Never for himself. He’s afraid for me. He’s worried about me.

He’s leaving me.

“LEO! NO!” I reach for him once more, one more desperate grasp at a piece of my heart that was stolen so coldly.

I grab nothing but air. The lair disappears around me as the tails of my brother’s bandana slip away with the wind. “Come back! Come back dammit!” But there’s nothing but empty black in every direction. Black and dark and completely alone. “DON’T LEAVE!”

“I’m not.”

He’s there. But it’s not him. It can’t be him.

I start to run. I don’t know where.

I just. Need. To run.

Left, right. Left, right. Faster. Move faster. Run. Run until you can’t breathe. Run until it doesn’t hurt. Run as far away as you can. Don’t let the pain catch up. Harder. Faster! Ignore the fatigue. Ignore the burning in your lungs. Ignore the voice telling you to go back. Block it all out. Everything. Everyone. Block it all—

“This isn’t helping.”

He’s back. Again. Won’t leave me alone. Block it out. Don’t let him in.

“Do you have any idea where you’re going?”

Ignore him. It’s not real. He’s not real. Can’t be.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone. You know you shouldn’t.”

Block it. Block it! Don’t listen.

“It’s dangerous.”

Stop. Stop talking. Don’t—

“Are you listening to me?”

His face is right there. Right in front of me. As condescending as it was that night. As worried… My feet suddenly can’t remember how to move. I trip. My legs meet the concrete while my torso thinks we’re still running, flinging me across the rooftop till I skid to a halt against the raised trim. It takes a second for me to catch my breath and sit up.

And there he is. Standing in the middle of the roof, staring at the adjacent building with one sword drawn and clenched in his fist.

I smell blood. Thick and rancid. Can practically taste it on the rain.

This is it. This is the place. He cussed me out in that alley. He followed me up that fire escape. He lectured me across this rooftop.

“You think you don’t measure up?”

And there. Right there. He shoved me out of the way. Pushed me to safety.

I walk to him, watching as he falls to the ground, a hand gripping his stomach and blood squelching through his fingers. Everything’s numb. I can’t reach for him. Can’t help.

Can’t change it.

“I DON’T NEED YOU!”

Can’t take it back.

I wish he was—

My legs buckle and I fall to my knees, hands clenched so tight they’re tingling. A slight tinge of red is stained in a small circled by my knee. Blood that wasn’t washed away with the rain. His blood.

My fault.

My veins turn to tar and my lungs become cement, refusing to allow me air. A cry builds at the back of my throat, clamouring for freedom as I grind my teeth and force it back. Everything hurts. Everything. The cry is deafening inside my head, but I can’t let it out. If I fall apart now, I’ll never get back up. Never.

Maybe that’s okay. Maybe it’s for the best.

I wish he was—

Maybe it’s what I deserve.

He looks back at me, his hand on his stomach and blood pouring from his wound. Something in my chest twists and churns and feel like I’m gonna choke. Make. It. STOP!

“Knew you’d show up here eventually.”

A new voice. Familiar. Another memory? My skin prickles with a sense of dread as I grip my sai tight in each fist. Danger. Not a memory. Real danger.

“Time for you to join your brother in eternity.”

A blunt object—butt of a gun, maybe?—comes at my head from the left. I should be able to stop it. It’s slow. Obvious. But my sai feel heavy.

I… I don’t want to fight. I want it to happen. Want it to end.

It was only a moment. A split second. I know I can’t let it end like this. Mikey would cry. I’ve hurt them enough, I can’t—but I’m too slow. My hesitation is enough. I can see it coming, but I can’t stop it.

The side of my head is pounded heavily by something metallic, knocking me onto my side. I try to get back up but my limbs don’t listen. Vision’s clouding. Everything’s going dark. I look up to see the face of my attacker and realize why I recognized the voice.

Hun. Leader of the Purple Dragons. Leader of the thugs who attacked us that night. Leader of the cowards who killed my brother.

My blood boils at the thought and my hands twitch with desire to reach up and grip his neck with every ounce of strength I possess. But the anger’s too late. Darkness taking over.

And there he is. On the roof. Where he stood that night… with blood gushing everywhere, blue hilted katana in his hand, and worry in his eyes. “You shouldn’t have left.”

Vision going. Eyes roll up.

Black.

Chapter Text

“Raph’s gone.”

The room skid to an abrupt halt, the meaning of those words taking a good long moment to settle in. No one moved. No one spoke. No one breathed.

And then panic hit. Fast and hard.

Mikey was already halfway through the door as he shouted, “We have to go find him!” before Splinter’s voice stopped him.

“Calm, my son. We cannot go bounding around the surface searching aimlessly.”

“But Sensei—!”

“He’s right.” Don nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from the blood on the wall nearest him. “We need to think this through. Figure out where he might be headed.” As his younger brother was about to object, Don tossed him his shell cell. “Call Casey. He’ll know the best places to look.” Keep Mikey busy. Keep him from panicking. “Sensei, call Leatherhead and the Mutanimals, see if anyone’s spotted him anywhere. I’ll try tracking his shell cell and listening for anything he might chase after on the police scanners.”

Splinter nodded, then watched as his son—normally quick to action once decided on a plan—stood frozen in place, the only movement in his body the quaking of his hands. Stepping forward, the father placed a gentle hand on his son’s shoulder and waited for eyes to meet his before speaking. “Donatello.”

“I shouted at him. I practically called him a murderer. He ran off because of—“

“—Pain. Raphael ran because he is in great pain.”

“I drove him away. I shouldn’t have said it. I shouldn’t… I didn’t mean…”

Splinter gripped his son’s shoulder tighter. “There will be time for apologies later. Right now, we must find your brother before he finds what he’s looking for.”

Don paused, finally working his way past the knot in his chest to breathe properly. “What do you mean? What’s he looking for?”

Splinter moved towards the door, not willing to waste a moment longer, as he spoke gravely over his shoulder.

“Danger.”

His knees felt shakier than they had an hour ago. His hands quivered, his bones creaked and his eyes were dull of their usual wisdom. In this moment, standing before this wooden door, Splinter felt utterly and entirely lost. This door that separated him from his son. Grief was a monster that consumed its victims in different ways, he knew this, but sitting and watching his family be attacked so intimately was too much to bear.

Raphael was extremely emotional, his passion and fire helped him cope with a world that demanded his protection but rejected his existence. With Raphael, it was feel nothing or feel everything, there was no middle ground. So Splinter could easily imagine what something as consuming as grief could do to his son. And he did. Imagined it vividly and constantly. And was desperate to do something.

He knew his son well. He knew he would need time. He would need space. He would need to work through the pain in his own way without having to worry about the world around him. Raphael possessed incredible strength; strength of spirit and strength of heart. But it was precisely that strength that worried the old father. Raphael cared so deeply that loss was not something he coped with well. And Splinter feared, if left alone, his son would be consumed by it.

Standing outside this door, only feet from his grieving child, Splinter never felt so far away. Gently placing his paw on the wood before him, he closed his eyes and let the pain radiating through the door wash over him. Loss, anger, but more than anything… guilt. Whatever had happened on that roof, Raphael blamed himself for it.

“Oh, my son.” Splinter sighed his worry, his every thought wishing he could take away his son’s pain with a hug and a word of love, like he could when his children were young. Going inside wasn’t going to help. He knew that. Trying to force Raphael to open up would only make things worse. He knew that too. But there wasn’t a nerve in his body that refrained from screaming at him to do something. To help. He could not rid his family of this pain, but he could help them cope. He could… he had to try.

Sinking slowly to his knees, his tired muscles relaxing into familiar seiza position, Splinter kept his hand on the door and his eyes closed, spiritually reaching for his son.

“I am here, Raphael. I will always be here.”

“No, Don, nothing yet.” Casey cursed, catching his breath as he came to a stop on the far end of the roof. “Yeah. I’m sure.” He listened a moment, his fists clenching as he glared at the rooftops in front of him. “The park, the back alleys, the pubs, everywhere we usually go. I’m tellin’ you, he ain’t here!” The voice on the other side of the line was calm. Too calm. Forced. And Casey hated that it was for his benefit; so he wouldn’t freak out and go swinging at every thug he saw on the street. “Yeah, sorry, I’m listening. …Downtown? … Yeah. But isn’t Pier 36 a little crowded for— … Ok, I’m on my way.”

An angry growl churned his lips as Casey put his phone away and stared out at the city skyline before him. He heard people singing in the nearby karaoke bar, drunk partiers laughing as they stumbled down the street, couples planning their next date night. He heard televisions blaring the daily news, car horns honking at slow drivers, and friends arguing over which Marvel movie was best.

He heard people living. Happy. Safe.

It pissed him right off.

Turning sharply, he let his frustrations out on the nearest chimney, punching it hard enough to draw brick from brick and blood from his knuckles before surging off towards his next destination and silently cursing the peaceful world around him.

“It just ain’t fair, Raph. It ain’t fair.”

“Anything?” Mikey asked, eyes still wild with worry.

Don hated that he couldn’t offer any comfort as he shook his head. And seeing his brother’s eyes almost tear up with fear only made his gut churn all the more. He could hardly think he was choking so hard on his own anxiety. It had already been an hour and they hadn’t seen shell or tail of Raph anywhere. But what worried Don more was that they hadn't seen anything of the Purple Dragons either. Not a thug or gangster in any back alley or washed out pub. And he didn’t need a keen intellect to know that was a bad sign.

Something was very wrong. And Don was utterly terrified that Raph was in the middle of it.

They had to find him. They had to know he was okay.

“I’m telling you, he’s in trouble. He’s not thinking clearly and he’s gonna get himself hurt.” Leo was practically crawling out of his shell as he waited for Don to finish typing on his computer.

“He’s a strong guy, Leo. Wherever he went, I’m sure he can handle—“

“He’s off, Don. Has been for weeks now.”

“So he’s probably just out blowing off steam. You know how he is.” Leo didn’t seem to take to that answer, so Don paused his typing to face his brother. “Maybe he needed some space. I know you want to run out there and make sure he’s not jumping into an unnecessary fight, but maybe that’s what he needs right now.” Leo grunted, turning away to lean on the desk and cross his arms. Don remained as gentle as he could, not wanting to sound insensitive. “…I know you want to help him through this, but it’s like Sensei said… he’ll come to us when he’s ready. We can’t force him to—“

“He almost died, Don. They kidnapped him, tortured him, brainwashed him, and nearly took his life. I… I nearly took his life.”

“He was trying to kill you, you were just defending yourself. Everyone here knows you never would have—“

“I almost did! I wasn’t trying to… I just…” His brother’s arms tightened their fold as he kept his face turned away so Don couldn’t see. “We almost lost him. I know he’s got to work through this on his own, I do. But...” Finally locking eyes, Don was surprised to see Leo’s face softened with worry. “I just need to know he’s okay. Please.”

Don was speechless as he watched his eldest brother’s worry wall itself back up behind his usual impassive expression. He shook his head. “Fine. I’ll start tracing his phone. But if we interrupt a night of frivolous violence and he wants someone to take it out on, I’m volunteering you.”

“Fine.”

Always worried. Always making sure they were safe. Always playing protector. If Leo were here now…

“I’ll call Casey, see if he’s found anything.” Pulling his shell-cell from his belt, Don turned away from his family so they couldn’t see the quake of his hands.

Or the tear running down his cheek.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The sound of his heart pounding in rhythm with his running feet was all Mikey could hear. He knew Don was talking on the phone with Casey, he knew Splinter was saying something about where they were headed next, but he couldn’t focus well enough to hear specifics. His mind was running on high speed, but it centered only on one thing: Raph.

First off, how did he get out of the lair without anyone noticing? Mikey had replayed the last twenty-four hours in his head at least half a dozen times and he couldn’t think of a moment where he left the living room long enough to have missed his brother leaving his room, let alone the lair. He would have seen him. Or at the very least heard him. After all the training they’d done together, they’d all grown accustomed to each others tricks and techniques, making it near impossible for them to sneak up on each other. The only one who could consistently ninja their way around without being noticed was…

Mikey would have seen him. No way Raph snuck passed him.

And even if he had managed to somehow make it out of the lair without anyone noticing (had to have been when he was grabbing a drink of water, it had to. No way Raph got past him otherwise. No way), where would he be going? If he left to blow off steam, they would have seen signs of it by now: piles of thugs in an alleyway, a raucous brawl spilling out of a seedy pub, police sirens screaming after a warehouse recently set ablaze. Raph was never one for subtlety, whatever he was after he would go for fist first, headstrong, and without mercy. You’d be able to see his ire from Jersey. So how was it they hadn’t found so much as a drop of blood? Raph should have been toppling buildings by now, how could they still not have a clue where he was? How could Don not outthink him? How could Casey not know where he’d go?

How could he not have seen it?

Leave Raph be, let him work through it his way, give him space, let him heal; it all sounded like the right thing to do. Mikey hated it—he wanted nothing more than to cling to his family with all the strength in his body so no one else could be pried away—but Raph dealt with things differently. Raph hated to be coddled. Hated to deal with things in front of others. Raph pulled away, figured things out on his own, and came back when he was ready to face the world again.

Now he was gone.

And Mikey should have known. Should have known this was different. Should have known Raph needed help, how badly he was hurting. Should have known he needed family—they all did. They were all tearing apart at the seams.

But now Raph was out somewhere doing god-knows what, probably getting into trouble, probably getting hurt, maybe even—

And Mikey hadn’t done a thing to stop it. He should have done something. Should have forced Raph to let him help. Should have sat outside his door until he was ready to come out.

Should have done something.

“There’s nothing you could have done, Mikey.”

The younger turtle couldn’t pry his eyes from the battered body of their red-masked brother, horror still dancing through his veins. “He shouldn’t have been there alone. We should have been with him. “

“He chose not to tell us. You couldn’t have known.”

“But why did he go alone?” Mikey cried, turning away from the bandages to stare with wide, hurt eyes at his eldest brother. “We could have helped him fight, we could have—“

“No, we couldn’t.”

Mikey was aghast. “Why not!?”

“Because Raph needed to do this.”

“Why?”

“Because Mikey,” Leo swept a hand over the dome of his head, breathing in a deep, low breath, the same way he usually did when unable to find the proper words to say. “It’s who he is. I can’t say I fully understand it myself, but I know it’s what he feels he has to do. He has to deal with things on his own to… prove himself or something. I don’t know…” He paused. “… I’m just glad I got to him in time.”

Mikey could see the frustration brewing in the leader’s face, clearly as unhappy about this as the rest of them, but that still made him wonder, “What if… what if he doesn’t just get hurt next time? What if …”

“I’d never let it get that far, Mikey. Never.”

The adamancy was reassuring, but it still didn’t answer his question. “What if you’re not here? What if you’re off on a mission with Donnie and Sensei and it’s just me here with him and he runs off to do something as stupid as tonight?”

The warmth that touched his shoulder brought Mikey’s gaze to Leo’s hand. “Then he’d be in good hands. If there’s anyone here who can understand Raph, it’s you little bro. You’re more compassionate and empathetic than anyone on earth.” Mikey felt another light squeeze on his shoulder. “You’d know how to help him.”

It didn’t really answer his question, but the unwavering trust in his brother’s voice was more comfort than Mikey expected. His eyes grazed over the bandages covering Raph’s body, sending a shiver of fear through his body again. He leaned into Leo’s hand. “Only on earth? Are you saying there are more compassionate Utroms out there?”

“I was thinking Triceritons, but Utroms as well, probably.”

Mikey chuckled lightly. Leo was making jokes, that was a very good sign. Raph was definitely going to be okay. “Does this mean you’re not gonna shout at him when he wakes up?”

“No. But I get the feeling his meditation sessions are going to be extremely long for the next few weeks.”

“You are cruel.” He watched his brother smile and shrug.

“Older brother prerogative.”

Mikey was so lost in the memory, he nearly tripped over Don who had come to a stop on the roof of a warehouse. He could still feel Leo’s hand on his shoulder, comforting and strong. He could still feel fear coursing through every nerve. “Did you find something?” He already knew the answer, but anxiety demanded he ask anyway.

“No.” Don replied over his shoulder. “ We’re meeting up with Casey to regroup.”

“Regroup?”

“Figure out our next move. We’ve already scoured most of the city, there’s not many more places he can be.” He offered his younger sibling a nod of comfort. “We’ll find him, Mikey. It’s just a matter of time.”

“Right.” He tried, but Mikey honestly couldn’t take the words to heart. Finding Raph wasn’t what frightened him, it was finding him in time. Before he did something dangerous… Casey appeared on the edge of the roof, mercifully interrupting that train of thought, and Mikey was already waiting for Don’s go ahead to keep moving. “Where else can we look? Shouldn’t we split up? Cover more ground?”

“No.” Don was suddenly very adamant. “We need to think this through.”

“Think what through?” Panic peeked into Mikey’s voice without his consent. “We need to find him, Don. We need to.”

“I know. We will. But we need to take a minute to—“

“We don’t have a minute, dude. It’s been too long as it is!”

“Yes, which is why we need to stop and think for a second instead of running around without a plan.”

But Mikey could feel the cold hand of dread squeezing his stomach at even the thought of waiting any longer. “Then I’ll keep looking while you guys—“

“We’re not splitting up!”

“But we have to do something now! We have to find him!”

“My son,” Splinter tried to sooth the tide of emotions swaying his youngest to the brink of panic. “Be patient. We will find—“

“No! No more waiting!” Mikey smelled rain. It was going to rain. It was going to rain and one of them was missing and this was all feeling far far too familiar. “I can’t wait anymore. You all said to wait, to let him deal with it in his own time, and look what happened! He wasn’t dealing, he was rotting away in there! All alone in his room, blaming himself for what happened, and none of us did anything! We can’t just let him stay out here. He’s not himself! He’s gonna get hurt because we’re not there! He could already be—“

“Don’t.” Donatello, rigid as a brick wall, finally found his voice. “Don’t even think it, Mikey. We’re going to find him. It’s not going to be like that last time. It won’t. Raph isn’t going to die.” Because he couldn’t. Because if he did, Don didn’t know what would become of them. One brother lost was agony. Two was unthinkable.

They would find him. Alive and well. They had to.

Mikey paused before speaking, his orange bandana fluttering in the wind and nearly drowning out his suddenly meek voice. “…What if… what if he… Don, what if he—“

“—He wouldn’t.” The only reason Don even knew what his brother was asking was because it had been running through his head all night. Ever since they found Raph’s bedroom empty and blood on the walls. “He wouldn’t leave us like that. Not on his worst day would he even—“

“It’s been his worst day for three months!”

“He wouldn’t.”

“He’s been dealing with this alone from the start. What if it was too much?”

“He wouldn’t do it, Mikey!”

“But what if—“

“ENOUGH!” Don was in his brother’s face now, not two inches from his nose, and not entirely sure he was in control of his actions. “He wouldn’t kill himself. He wouldn’t. We know him better than that—you know him better than that! So stop thinking it!”

A gust of wind shot across the pier, blowing around leaves and garbage as the four stood frozen on the warehouse rooftop.

Splinter was the only one who dared speak. “My sons,” he looked to Casey. “My family. This is not the way to find Raphael. Giving in to our deepest fears does not aid our cause, Michelangelo. Nor does attempting to ignore them, Donatello.” He stepped forward to look out over the water. “We are all afraid for your brother. We all know too intimately what the worst scenario feels like. But let us not resign to that fate yet. Your brother needs his family. And no matter what, we will bring him home. We must.” He turned to face the three once more, a resolute calm emitting from every feature. “Now think. Is there anywhere your brother might have gone that we have yet to check?”

Silence fell over the group as all found stillness enough to think.

Casey paced the roof, rubbing his chin while going through a mental checklist of all their favorite hangouts. When Raph got angry, he wanted to vent. And they’d already checked all the areas in the entirety of Manhattan where he and Casey usually went for such revelry. So what else did Raph do when he got angry? He got pensive. Usually thinking about how a mission had gone wrong and what he could have done to—

And he always returned. When he felt he’d failed, he always went back to where—

…Well shit. This wasn’t going to be easy for any of them. “I think I know where to go.”

It was like watching a funeral march. They climbed to the roof, not a word whispered between them, all four rigid and tense and terrified of what they would find. Or what they wouldn’t. Splinter and Casey looked around, taking in the surroundings for the first time and trying to fit the pieces together. All of them noticed the blood. Dried blood in the middle of the concrete, pale and diminished, but still as haunting as ever.

Mikey couldn’t look at it. Couldn’t look at anything. And couldn’t close his eyes because he would see it all again, every detail of that horrifying night. That moment… the one he’ll have nightmares about for the rest of his life. A pale body lying in his brother’s arms, limp and void of life. Eyes that would never open again. Blue bandana dappled with blood. He couldn’t catch the whine that shot from his throat, he was too focused on remembering to breathe.

Don couldn’t look away. His eyes trained on the blood stain immediately, staring at it as though he could he wish it away with a glance. The closer he got, the dizzier he felt. His knees suddenly buckled and he fell to the ground in front of the dried smear. He was going to be sick. But he couldn’t stop staring. Couldn’t stop seeing it. Couldn’t stop feeling the cold touch of his brother’s skin beneath his fingers as he methodically searched for a pulse. This plain run-down apartment in this dirty part of the city was where his brother fell. Where their lives all changed. And this stained patch of cement was one of the few things left that proved his brother ever existed. Bile nearly slipped past his lips, but Don breathed deep to keep it at bay. Raph. Focus on Raph. Had to find Raph.

Casey watched as the family took in the scene and it was all he could do to keep his anger in check. Splinter looked like a ghost with how hollow his eyes were, and the other two looked like they wanted to crawl into their shells and never come out. And Casey couldn’t blame them. If he had a shell, that’s what he’d be doing right about now. “Raph?” He called, forcing himself to concentrate on the task at hand. Now wasn’t the time for his righteous fury. But soon. Very soon. His hands curled tighter in on themselves as he looked about the roof. “Raph?”

His voice managed to pull Splinter from is thoughts and fears, his own eyes now remembering to look for his lost son. But just as he turned around to face the street below, he caught sight of two blue bandana tails whipping in the wind. His heart stopped as he followed the blue to the adjacent roof, climbing with fervor until he reached the top.

And there, standing before him with fear in his eyes and guilt on his lips, was Leonardo. Splinter could only stare, pain in his chest flaring and spurting with the desperate need to hold his child. “My son!”

But he knew it not to be real. Only an apparition. A faint trace of his son’s spirit left behind to guide him towards something. The pain turned to a fierce ache, but Splinter quickly swallowed it and directed his attention to where the spirit worriedly pointed. He walked to the chimney and lost his breath once again.

“No…” As he feared. As they’d all feared. His heart sank to his stomach and he fell to his knees, staring at the taunt before him.

In the center of the chimney amidst a rained-washed blood stain, a sai protruded from the brick—it’s red leather handle and faint gold trim a familiar sight—stabbed through a note that fluttered in the wind. Three words. And Splinter’s world was crumbling all over again.

“Come get him.”

Chapter Text

He’s slipping away. Again. I feel him leaving and my hand panics, flailing about and trying to grasp at him as he walks away. “Don’t—“ But no sound escapes my lips. Words won’t form. ‘Cause he’s leaving and I’m not ready. I’m not ready to let him go. Not ready to be without him. Not ready to never hear his voice again or see his disapproving frown.

His pristine katanas. His perfectly skilful katas. His blue bandana blurring behind him as he dances from one form to the next.

I’m not ready to miss him.

My chest tightens and I cough just to try and find some air. It feels like I’m underwater, constantly fighting to get back to the surface for one more drudge of oxygen. And he ain’t there to help. He ain’t coming to the rescue. I always hated it when he came to my rescue.

I can’t stand that he never will again.

It was me. It was my fault. My fault! If I hadn’t left, if I’d stayed, if I’d just listened to a damn word he’d said—I hate it when he gives me orders, but I’d give everything to hear him bark one more! Just one more…

“Leo, wait!”

Why won’t he stop! He never leaves. He’s always there. Even when I don’t want him. Even when I tell him not to be. Even when I don’t need him. When I don’t think I need him. When I don’t want to admit it… he somehow knows. How does he always know?

I need him.

Did he know that? Did I ever tell him?

“I DON’T NEED YOU!”

Dammit, he’s still walking away and I can’t stop him. Have no right to. Can only watch in a panic as he casually walks out of my life. Forever.

“I’m not leaving, Raph. I’m still here.”

But it’s not true. All I can see is his shell as it gets smaller and smaller in the distance.

“S-Still here…”

I wake up with the biggest headache I’ve ever had. Whoever it was that snubbed me was gonna get his.

Hun. He was there. What on earth he was doing on that roof… or maybe he’d been following me, I don’t know. Hadn’t been paying attention. Leo would be livid if he knew I’d—

“You shouldn’t have left.”

I can’t reply. I know I ain’t alone and I don’t want the assholes around me to know I’m awake. But damn if it ain’t relieving to hear his voice, condescending as it is.

Still with me. Still…

“You weren’t in the right frame of mind. You weren’t paying attention, of course they were able to sneak up on you.”

And the endless worry continues, somehow always ending up in my direction. I want to be annoyed—I’ve been in tougher scrapes than this and he damn well knows it—but honestly, it just feels good to have him near. Know he’s got my back.

A pain erupts in my chest and I can’t for the life of me figure out what it’s coming from. It’s like someone is ripping my ribs open and tearing out my lungs. Some deep ache from a loss I can’t fathom or understand right now.

He’s still here. I hear him. Feel him. Still here.

“I can’t… I can’t help you.”

I damn near open my eyes because I can swear I hear him choke. He doesn’t show emotion like that. Not in public. Barely ever in private.

“Raph, I think you’re in more trouble than you realize. The others are coming, but I don’t know… they’re not thinking right either. They’re scared and frantic and they’ll walk right into this. And I can’t do anything. I can’t…”

I only ever heard him sound this defeated once before: when Sensei’s mind was messed up by the Rat King and he attacked (and almost killed) Donnie-boy. Leo’d spent the whole night meditating in the lair while he tried to come up with a plan… it all worked out in the end, but that was the only time I can think of that Leo really felt lost. Or at least that he’d shown us, anyway.

I hate to admit it, but it was frightening then. It’s downright terrifying now.

I almost opened my dumb mouth again when he silences me.

“Shhhh, keep quiet. If you wake up, they’ll start.”

Start? Start what?

“Think Raph. They clearly don’t want you dead yet. What else would they want you for?”

Information was my first thought. But they should know by now that was a fools errand. Ain’t no way in fiery hell I’d give up my family.

“No, no. Think. What else would they want you for?”

I’m starting to get annoyed. If it’s so damn important, why doesn’t he just tell me?

“Revenge, Raph. Sport. Payback. We killed several of them that night in the warehouse, not to mention the gun shipment we subverted and the money they lost. And that was just one night. We’ve done plenty more to them over the years. And that man I killed… He was special. Someone Hun knew. Personally.”

It took me a minute for my foggy mind to think of which dead guy he was referring to. The one who’d shot him. The one who took my brother from me. Of course he was a personal friend of Hun. Of course.

My blood boiled at the thought of that punk on the roof. That coward that hid in the shadows. That wasn’t man enough to fight face to face.

That lowlife that stole my brother from—

No. No he’s still here. I feel him. Still here.

“He wants to hurt you, Raph. He wants to make you suffer.”

Words just start forming before my brain remembers I shouldn’t. But big brother saw and quiets me with a gentle “Shhhh. Someone’s coming.”

“—ain’t he dead yet?”

I can’t catch the whole sentence. My head’s still spinning and my ears are buzzing. I think they may have me hanging upside down. Hands tied behind my back, too. And I don’t need to look to know my sai aren’t where they should be.

“—to draw the others out.”

Dammit. Can’t focus. Only fragments get through. Pieces.

“Can’t we just—“ The ringing in my ears intensifies and I have to take a moment to push past so I can hear again. “—still come for his corpse.”

Can’t grab on. Keep fading out…

“—bait to get them here.”

Can’t get my mind to—

“—kill them all.”

That certainly grabs my attention. Suddenly the ringing, the ache, the pain, none of it’s even noticeable amidst the acute panic that rises like a tidal wave. They’re gonna kill ‘em. They’re gonna kill my family.

“Calm.”

His voice somehow manages to cut through the noise. His tone that sounds like he’s got everything under control. Says to trust him.

I do. With every fibre of my being.

“Don’t react. Wait for the right moment.”

He’s right. He’s always right. Always has to be…

I take a moment, breathe silent and deep, tensing my muscles to keep from letting a random reflex loose, and I wait.

Focus.

I will not let them take any more of my family.

“Keep trying.”

His voice is calm and gentle, with just a hint of annoyance to pick at my overtired brain. “It’s been an hour, I’m sick of trying! It ain’t working.”

“You can do it, just focus.”

“I am focused!”

“Slow your breathing.”

“Any slower and I’d be dead.”

“Quiet your mind.”

“It ain’t my mind that’s doin’ the talking.”

He sighs the long-suffering sigh of older brothers everywhere. I’m well acquainted with it. “Raph, I’m trying to help.”

“And I’m trying to tell you, it ain’t working!” I break seiza position to stand and stretch my stiff legs, unable to resist shooting a glare in his direction.

He doesn’t seem to mind. He’s got that stern-lecture look on his face that says he’s about to tell me why I’m wrong. “You haven’t slept in three days, it’s beginning to affect your performance in training and missions, and the others are getting tired of having to put up with your grumpier-than-usual attitude. You need to sleep.”

Called it. For the sake of my exhausted body, I choose to ignore that last comment. “Well gee, is that the problem? Golly, I had no idea sleep was such a necessity! Thank God I have you here to tell me or I’d never figure out why I’m so damn tired!”

Apparently he didn’t appreciate my sarcasm. He rolls his eyes to the heavens like he’s begging for patience and I can’t help but smirk that I got under his skin. Just a little. My victory is short-lived, though, when my eyes decide they can’t pin down which way is up. I have to grab the wall for support just to keep from toppling over.

“Sit.” He’s already by my side, helping me to the floor. Normally I’d object and stay standing just to piss him off, but my legs betray me and turn to jello, so I’m forced to do as he says. His voice is a little too understanding for my liking. “I know it’s not your favorite exercise, but meditation might be just what your body needs to find it’s center again. To quiet long enough to allow you some rest.”

I shoot him another annoyed glare that says “we’ve had this conversation already” and he raises his hands up in defence.

“Just try again. One more time.” He lowers down to my level, folding his knees beneath him to offer an example or a show of solidarity or something. “We both know you’re too stubborn to quit.”

I huff out my displeasure, but I have no more arguments to offer. So, begrudgingly, I give in and fold my legs beneath me. “And if this still doesn’t work?”

“I’ll clock you in the head hard enough to knock you out.”

Despite myself, I can’t help a loud chuckle. “You know, Fearless, I’d almost let you just to see if you could.”

He smiles too as he closes his eyes, starting with his deep breathing and waiting for me to do the same. I follow, without protest this time. I’m not really sure how it happened, but instead of annoyance, I’m suddenly calmed by the presence of my brother next to me, breathing with me instead of talking down to me.

It’s nice. Peaceful.

I finally feel my muscles begin to relax for the first time in days.

I can feel myself disappearing into the memory. Feel the world around me fading into irrelevance. And as much as I want to give in to it, I know I can’t. I have to stay here, present, ready to strike when the moment is right.

Another brass knuckle across my jaw helps ground me. Brings up a bit of blood that I’m quick to spit in the thug’s face the next time he comes close for a punch. The others laugh as they give my shoulder a hard kick.

This goes on for hours. No damage that’s life threatening, but they certainly got in a few good licks. It’s only fuel on their funeral pyre for when I finally break this rope.

I breathe deep, remembering the meditation methods Fearless taught me, drawing into myself and away from the pain while remaining as alert as possible.

“Quiet your mind.”

He’s still here. Every once in a while my mind starts to panic that I’ve lost him, but he’s always quick to say something and remind me he’s—

“Here.”

Down the hall. I can’t see them, but I feel them. My brothers. My family. This warehouse is so damn huge—filled to the brim with crates and boxes of construction materials for rebuilding the part of the harbour blown up last week—I don’t know if Hun can tell they’re here.

A thud. Followed by another. A scuffle is breaking out somewhere way on the other side of the building, but the string holding me inverted keeps rotating me at a slow pace, so I can’t get a good enough look to pinpoint where they are. I feel like a pig on a spigot. And I’m itchin’ to spring into action.

But once again, he stops me.

“Wait for the right moment. Don’t strike yet.”

There’s no mistaking Mikey’s voice shouting “Cowabunga!” all the way across the room. They’re here. They’re fighting. They’re walking into a trap.

Because of me.

Hun is sitting next to me and chuckling.

I need to—

“Calm. Wait. They can handle themselves.”

Ha! What a line coming from the mother of all worry-warts! But I do what he says. No point in waiting this long only to screw it up now.

“Breathe, Raph. Don’t forget to breathe.”

Right, right. Focused breaths. I hear shouting coming our way but the blood to my head is pumping too loud for me to make out every word.

“—coming, Boss! What do we—“

“Patience.”

Even Hun’s voice has a smirk in it. My gut is churning out a warning. The rotation of my body is taking me out of eyeshot of the other end of the warehouse, but I finally manage to catch a glimpse of my family booking it around a pile of crates and heading straight for us, weapons drawn and ready for action. I should be relieved. But I get myself turned so I can see Hun and I know why he’s smiling. He pulls a trigger from his belt and raises it in the air like a golden trophy, a chuckle escaping his lips. His thumb goes towards the button.

Shit.

Suddenly Big Brother is behind me, whispering in my ear. “Now.”

He don’t need to tell me twice.

Quick as a flash, I heave my body upwards and throw myself down as hard as I can. The weight of the fall is enough to snap the rope holding me up, and I spin so my shell takes the hit. Before I find concrete, my legs are already in the air, arcing up towards Hun’s hand.

His face is priceless. Sure as hell didn’t see that coming. He barely has a chance to blink before the clicker is kicked out of reach and the momentum carries his own hand into his chin with a loud SMACK!

No time to celebrate. I move to the crate nearest me where Mr. Big Bad himself had been sitting before and find my sai. It’s less than a second to cut myself free, but that’s enough for Hun to get his bearings again. He’s already going for the trigger.

My hearts in my throat as I rush to beat him to it, shouting over my shoulder loudly as I can. “GET BACK!”

I’m too slow. I watch in abject horror while Hun’s hand grips the trigger first, pressing the button before I tackle him to the floor.

The warehouse erupts in fire.

Several bombs hidden in crates on the far end of the complex detonate, sending up plumes of fire and smoke and debris in every direction. I’m far enough away that the only effect I feel is the ground tremor and some of the heat, but by the time I wrestle off Hun and look around the room, I don’t see anyone. I don’t see my family.

The fire is right beside where they’d been.

No… No, no, no, no, no!

I’m staring at the flames, at the broken hunks of metal and concrete and the burning bits of wood, terror like ice in my veins, and I can’t do anything but stand there and gawk.

Where are they? Where is my family!? “Mikey!!” I don’t even know if they can hear me over the roar of the flame. “Don!?” I’m practically scraping my voice raw with how loud I’m yelling. “Guys!!!”

…Nothing. I don’t see them. I don’t hear them. Dammit… dammit what if they—

“Still here.”

The voice is beside and in front of me all at once. I see a hint of blue to my right and I turn to try and focus on it, but I can’t—

And there I spot them. Lying in a heap way over by the door, and buried in bits of rubble and debris. My family.

My blood runs cold.

Suddenly I hear a chuckle behind me.

Hun’s standing back up, wiping the blood off his chin and making some sarcastic comment about ninja being more aware of their surroundings.

I can barely make out his voice. All I hear is the loud drumming of blood pumping in my ears as I turn to see him smirking in victory at what he did to them. What he did to my family. To my brothers.

To Leo.

My hands curl around my sai so tight, my knuckles pale.

“Raph… Don’t—”

The world goes away, fading into oblivion as I seethe through my teeth.

“Are you listening to me?“

All I see is red.

“Raph, wait—!”

I lunge.

Chapter Text

“RAPH!”

His voice tears through the ire, bringing me back to the here and now. I catch a glimpse of my right arm gushing blood and completely useless, and try to thin the haze from my mind while I gather my surroundings.

The pause was clearly the opening my opponent had been waiting for. I see it coming in my periphery, but without my right arm, I’m too slow to stop it.

The blade sinks deep. I can feel it digging around near my liver. But as I’m waiting for the final blow, my mind clears enough to notice it’s Hun’s only weapon. And his left eye is covered in blood and probably not working so good.

Blue bandana tails whip past me on my left, and I hear him whisper.

“—the right moment.”

My lip curls up in a grin as blood pours down my leg. Hun looks at me like I’m a madman, which only makes my smile broader.

It’s in the details, right Big Bro?

I clamp my hand on his wrist like a pit bull to a bone, pulling him closer –the blade digs deeper into my innards, but I needed to close the distance—and make sure his face is mere inches from mine before I talk.

“Checkmate.”

By the time his blood soaked eye catches what’s happening, my sai is so deep in his skull, I can almost see it popping out the other end. It takes a moment, like his brain was trying to understand what just happened, before his eyes close and his body crumples to the floor like a broken marionette.

Year and years I’ve wanted to sink my sai into that bastards skull. Hot damn did that feel good!

I use the adrenaline from my kill to pull the blade from my side—as carefully as possible, because I know Don’s gonna freak out as it is—and I stand over the body. His brain is leaking blood all over the floor and I know for damn sure he’s not getting up again. But still. I can’t help myself. My rage is not quelled. My thirst for vengeance still demands more.

I take the knife and lord it over Hun’s bleeding corpse, right over his enlarged chest. There’s something wet on my cheek but I’m pumping too much adrenaline to even notice. “This,” I say with venom dripping from every syllable. “This is for my brother.” And I drive the blade deep into his heart. Deeper. Until my hand is nearly inside his chest.

Finally. It’s done.

But the pain in my chest is still there. It still hurts. As much as it did three months ago. As much as it did when I watched him take in his last breath.

As much as it did when I realized my dumb, worthless ass, had gotten my brother killed.

A sudden dizzy spell brings me out of my stupor, and my eyes dart around the room in a panic. My family. They’re here, I saw them. The explosion… I heard more Dragons being thrown about on that side of the warehouse, which means someone is over there. I need to go look. To find them. To protect them. To keep them from leaving me like he did…

What if I just got them all killed? What if they’re all…

I sink to my knees without realizing, my body feeling heavier every second. There’s a pain in my side now too, and it takes a moment for me to remember I’ve been hurt. My hand goes to cover the wound immediately.

“Pressure.”

He whispers in my ear. I do as he says. I haven’t the heart to argue anymore. I want to do what he says. I want to hear him bark orders.

“Keep pressure. Stop the bleeding.”

I want him to be here. With me.

“Keep them bright eyes open. If you pass out, I can’t give you CPR.”

I can’t help but crack a smile. I still can’t see him, but I feel him sitting next to me, his hand over mine as he helps me keep the pressure on. “Duly noted.” I say before spitting a hock of blood from my airways.

The room’s gettin’ mighty fuzzy. I feel myself list to one side, but when I go to catch myself Leo stops me, holding his hand over mine to keep the blood at bay.

“If I leave, you bleed out.”

I’m about to reply with my own wit when I hit the floor. Right… I was falling. But his hand’s still on my side. Still helping keep me here. Keep me safe.

Always.

“Leo…” I still can’t see him. I keep looking for that blue bandana and those fretting eyes, but they're not anywhere in the room. Everything’s starting to go dark. My family… where are my—

I feel his hand though.

“Leo…”

“It’s okay, dude, we got you.”

That’s not Leo’s voice. Still familiar. Still comforting. But not Leo.

Oh, thank God. “Mi—“ I’m suddenly coughing, the familiar taste of bile and copper mixing in my mouth. But I gotta be sure. They’re here. They’re okay. “Mikey?”

“I’m here!” He sounds desperate. “I’m here, just squeeze my hand if you can’t see me.”

I hadn’t even noticed his hand was in mine. Gripping tightly. I think. Can’t feel it. Can’t feel much. But I can hear just fine, and his terror rings out clear as a bell.

I’ve scared him. Again.

It’s always me. The big screwup…

“You’re not.”

Blue flickers at the edges of my vision. Just beyond the dark. Just out of sight. Just… barely…

“You’re a much better person than you think you are.”

I don’t know if it’s what he’s saying or the fact that I still can’t find him, but I start to panic, coughing as I try and sit up. He’s here. I need to find him. See him. Just once. “C-Come back!” I’m spittin’ blood, and I know I shouldn’t move, there’s a voice saying I shouldn’t move, but I have to. I have to find him!

“You still don’t get it.”

It’s driving me crazy the way he keeps saying that! “Get what!?”

But it’s not Leo that answers.

“Get out of here. Casey and Sensei can only hold them off for so long.”

Don. He’s safe too.

“I won’t lose another brother to your temper!”

Don knows. He knows the truth. Knows what I am. The thought is another knife in my chest. I try to find his eyes, but they’re focused on something in my side. My wound? Am I still bleeding? Can’t feel it anymore…

I need to—I should say something. Don and Mike, they don’t deserve this. Don’t deserve me. My brain ain’t workin’ right and my lips feel as numb as my hands, but I need to tell them. It takes a good solid effort—damn I’m gettin’ tired—but I finally manage to clear the blood from my throat so I can speak.

“Don…”

I sound pathetic. Weak. And I don’t get past the name before my strength fades again. But I need them to know. Should have said it before. Should have told them all the time. Should have…

Shouldn’t have said it. Shouldn’t have shouted.

“I DON’T NEED YOU!”

Dammit. I can’t make my mouth work. I don’t know if it’s because I’m bleedin’ out or because I’m so damn bad at telling them how much I care, but I can’t do it.

Gotta try again. “D-Don…”

My eyes finally manage to focus a little, and I can see Don and Mikey trying to stand me up, Mike taking point with his nunchaku out and spinning, and Don beside me with my arm over his shoulder, trying to drag my ass through the warehouse.

There are tears running down his cheeks.

Dammit.

“Just save your strength, Raph. We can talk after we get you fixed up, okay? After we’re home and safe.”

“Save the lecture for after we get home.”

The thought suddenly strikes me that I might not make it home. I’ve been thinking it all night, but just now it really sinks in. Becomes real. Maybe it’s because I can feel it happening. I can feel myself going. The darkness at the edge of my vision keeps growing and I know this is it.

I slide my eyes over to peak at Mikey who’s whipping his weapon in an unsuspecting Dragon’s face. Makes me proud, I gotta admit.

Dammit.

A sudden chill runs down my body as the cold hand of dread snakes through my veins. I can’t… I can’t leave ‘em. But I don’t think I got a choice in the matter anymore. Can’t feel. Can’t think. Can barely keep my eyes open. Thoughts are draining through my mind like a sieve and I can barely tell if my feet are under me anymore.

I think… I think I’m leaving…

Dammit!

If only I hadn’t gone out on my own.

“You shouldn’t have left.”

It’s always me. I’m always the one screwing it all up. If only I’d stayed.

“Because you took off! And I didn’t want you out here fighting alone.”

If only I’d listened.

“We’re going back. Now.”

Why didn’t I listen?

“We’re a team Raph. We need to stick together.”

If only…

“RAPH!”

If only Leo was—

“Still here.”

My eyes snap open—when did I close them?—and the room’s gone. Everything’s disappeared and I’m standing in the middle of this endless white. I can hear Mike and Don shouting frantically around me, but I can’t see them anymore.

It feels like I should be panicking, but there’s something about this place that soothes my frayed nerves in a way that’s almost… familiar.

And then he steps forward. Blue bandana flitting behind his head, one katana upon his back, and a knowing smile across his face.

Not a vision. Not a figment or an apparition. It’s really him. In the flesh.

“…Leo?”

I hear him chuckle at how tentative my voice is.

“Hey Raph.”

It’s his voice. Really his. He’s here, speaking to me. Staring at me. And suddenly I can’t breathe.

“Still getting into trouble, I see.”

He looks at me like he’s waiting for a response, but I can’t give one. I can’t remember how to make my lungs work. He just smiles and walks towards me, eyes bright and almost dancing behind that blue bandana of his. I look him over as he walks and… and there’s no more… no more blood. His stomach is fine, his plastron fully intact, not a drop of red anywhere to be seen.

He’s suddenly right in front of me and I know if I could move I’d be doing something embarrassing like hugging him or something. But I can’t. Can. Not. Move.

If I move he might…

I close my eyes to try and find some semblance of balance when I feel a tight embrace. I feel his breath against my head, feel his heart beating against my chest.

“I’m here.”

I don’t know what happened. Something in me snaps, I can feel the break as it gives way. And suddenly there’s water streaking down my face as my arms shoot around my brother’s shell.

He’s here. Just like he said he’d be.

There are no words… I can’t…

His hand comes up to my neck, holding me there for a moment, when I hear him sniffle. I pull away quickly to see tears streaking down his cheeks.

I ain’t ever seen Leo cry before.

He must have understood the dumb look on my face because he just smiles wide at me and wipes the streaks away.

“I’ve missed you.”

His words strike a chord somewhere deep in my chest. I want to reply, but I… I got nothin’. I just stare at him, wondering when the dream is gonna end and trying not to grip his arms too tight. I watch as he looks me up and down like he always did when he was checking for wounds or injuries I wasn’t coppin’ to.

Finally he clamps my shoulder with his hand—warm and firm and not a spec of blood on it—and gives me a bit of a shake.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Before I can even bat an eyelash in protest he’s pointing past my shoulder. I turn and see Mike and Don, almost faded behind this veil of white, like a movie screen with the brightness level way too high. They’re kneeling beside something on the ground that looks like it’s covered in—

Wait… is that…me?

I look from the body to my hands and back at least four times before I finally find my voice. “…Am I—“

“—dead?” Leo shakes his head humorously. “No, not yet. But you don’t have much time.”

My mind is reeling. I can’t seem to find purchase on anything he says. I’m still standing there, probably looking as confused as I feel, when he walks past me to stare at Mike and Don, a familiar twinge to his eyes.

Fondness and worry. Or “Forry” as Mike had dubbed it at one point. I just knew it as the “Leo look”.

He watches quietly, his eyes moving from one brother to the other like he’s trying to drink in every detail before they disappear. Suddenly Sensei is there beside them, his hand on—I guess that would be my side?—and Leo’s face shifts to something that looks awfully close to shame. He holds up his hand, like he’s going to reach out and touch the picture of our father, before pulling it back and closing his eyes.

I don’t think I’m breathing. I’m just watching him in silence, studying every inch of his face while my heart thumps so heavily in my chest, I’m surprised it hasn’t burst through my plastron yet.

“They’re in so much pain…”

The way he speaks… it’s like daggers. Thin needles, poking just deep enough to pierce the nerve and flare with pain. He sounds tormented. Hurt. And the scariest part is he’s not trying to hide it.

“Leo…” His name croaks out like I’ve just swallowed a cigar, but as I’m about to try again, he’s speaking. Low and calm and unjudgemental.

His back in still to me. Still facing our brothers. Our family.

“If you wanted to live, you’d already be fighting your way back to them. It would be close, but you could make it. We both know you could. But you’re not fighting. You’re here.”

Wait… what? Was he saying I’m choosing to die? That’s not—

“Are you?”

An ire burns in my stomach that makes me want to shout in his face for even suggesting something so stupid. But it dies the moment I realize the pain in my chest is gone. For the first time in three months I don’t feel like someone is staking my heart with a hot rod-iron.

I… I want to be here. With my brother. With Leo. I don’t want to leave him.

“I…” But the words won’t come. Everything clogs at the back of my throat as I turn to stare at my family—Casey standing over me with his hands in fists and blood on his knuckles, Sensei pumping my chest now and whispering like he’s trying to coax me to wake up, Mikey clutching my hand like it’s tethering him to sanity, and Don working frantically to patch me up while I bleed all over the roof—and I can feel my fingers curling into my palm.

DAMMIT.

“I can’t. I can’t leave them.”

I know it’s cowardly, but I keep my eyes on the ground ‘cause I know if I look up—if I see his face all sad and worried and filled with shame and telling me he misses me—I’m going to lose it. I’m going to give in. I’m gonna stay by his side and refuse to leave, consequences be damned.

I think my whole body is shaking as I stand there. I’m barely holding it together when I feel his hand on my shoulder. Don’t Leo… just don’t…

“Thank God.”

I can’t help but look up in my surprise and he’s standing there in front of me, a big wide smile on his face and something glinting in his eyes that makes my bones ache I’ve missed it so much.

Pride.

He wants me to go.

“They need you.”

I don’t mean to scoff, but I can’t help it. I know he’s trying to be nice and all, but we both know the truth. Know it all too well…

He’s suddenly got his arm around my shoulder, turning me to face our family. The white haze that separates us has grown thicker to the point that I can barely see them, but I still make out the general shapes. They're bandanas are missing... They’re at the lair now, in Don’s medical bay. Don’s standing over me as April—when did she get there?—hands him bandages and Casey watches from a distance. Mikey’s still holding my hand for dear life, tears falling on my skin as he sits beside me with Sensei’s arm draped over his shoulder.

The fear is so thick I can taste it.

“They need you, Raph.”

I want to believe him. I do. I know my family would miss me.

They shouldn’t. Not after I—

Casey would throw a fit. Mikey would cry. Don would wall himself away.

They should be thankful. I only cause trouble. I never listen. If I’d listened, Leo would still be—

April would square her shoulders and bare it for everyone’s sake. And Sensei would be left to pick up the pieces.

I didn’t mean to. I didn’t. I didn’t mean what I said. I swear. Leo, I swear I didn’t—

“Raph.”

His hand’s on my shoulder again, squeezing to get my attention. I just stare at him. Stare at his blue bandana. Stare at his green skin. Stare at those eyes that never stop worrying.

“I don’t need your orders.”

Not hurt or angry.

“I don’t need your leadership.”

Why aren’t they angry? They should be. I deserve it.

“I DON’T NEED YOU!”

What have I done?

I fall to my knees, my muscles all failing from the anguish now charging through me. How could I? Why did I want to hurt him so badly? He was just being protective big brother. Just being Leo. How could I… I…

I was just being me.

Just being…

Just let me be. Let me stay here. Let me stay with him.

“NO!”

His voice is almost shrill with fear, so much so it startles me into looking at him. He grabs my other shoulder so tightly, I nearly wince at the pressure.

“You can’t stay. You can’t. Please. I can’t stop you—I can’t make you go—but you have to! You have to!”

I’m still trying to form my reply when he takes me by the back of the head and touches his forehead to mine. I fall silent, leaning into the touch more than I ever have before.

“Please Raph, you have to understand. I want you here. I do. I want you to stay with me. I miss you more than I can…” He pauses, and I can hear the brokenness in his voice being forced to the back. “But they need you. You have to go back to them. Please. Please.”

I almost didn’t hear what he was saying ‘cause I’m so focused on the touch. His forehead against mine is such an unexpected comfort… I don’t wan to think about anything else. I want to stay. I need to stay. I can’t leave him. Not again. Never again. I can’t—

But Mike and Don. I can’t leave them either. Can’t leave them alone to deal with everything—three months I’ve been out of it, I don’t even know how badly they’ve been hurtin’—I can’t leave ‘em. I can’t.

But Leo…

I can’t.

I…

“Raph!”

I look up and Leo’s glancing back at the picture of the others. It’s fading again, the picture washing out so much I can barely see anything. Mikey’s standing up—I think it’s Mikey—and shouting at me on the table. I ain’t seen him cry like that since the rooftop…

I must be fading. It’s now or never, I can feel it. Stay or go. Either way, I abandon a brother.

I don’t know what to do!

I know I’m of no use to them over there, Mike and Don are better off without me. But they’ll hurt… they’ll morn… and I can’t stand to see ‘em cry.

But Leo. I can’t. Leave. Leo.

He suddenly stands me up, his face hardened in resolution, looking to me as he steps aside. “Whatever you decide. I’m with you.”

I stare at the fading picture of my family huddled around me, holding my hands, shoutin’ for me to stay with ‘em, begging me to open my eyes.

And my feet don’t move.

I look to Leo—my leader, my elder, my brother—and I feel ashamed. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry!”

I can’t do it. I can’t…

And he just looks at me with those kind eyes again.

Kind and sad.

“I know.” His voice is so calm as he touches me on the shoulder. Always calm. Always in control.

I hate him.

I miss him.

I need him.

But I can’t stay.

I reach out and touch the picture of my family, a cold film—like brushing the surface of the lake out at the farmhouse—meets my hand. Suddenly there’s a pain in my chest, sharp and intense, like a blade cutting out my heart. I can’t help it, I fall to my knees clutching my torso and gasping for breath, staring at Leo.

Still here. Hasn’t left. Still here.

“It’s okay.” He whispers quietly, hand still on my shoulder as he kneels beside me. “Let me help.” He reaches out and touches the film, grabbing a handful in his fingers and tearing a chunk away. He flinches, his eyes pinching shut like they do when he’s fighting off a serious bout of pain and—

Connection. I don’t know why or how but I don’t care to ask because suddenly I can feel him. I can feel Leo. I hear his thoughts, I know his fears and desires, I feel his pain.

We’re connected. For this one brief moment I know my brother better than I ever did before. I know he’s hurting. I know he’s desperate for me to leave, to go back and protect our family.

I know he wishes more than anything that he could come with me.

The sting is intensifying with each passing second. It’s like bolts of electricity jolting from one nerve to next, setting my skin on fire. I reach out and pull at the film, tearing it away as Leo was, ripping it apart as best I can amidst the throbbing of my body.

I can see beyond the screen now. Nothing but darkness. Endless. Emtpy. And suddenly I’m terrified of it.

“Go Raph!” Leo shouts at me amidst his grunts of pain, trying his damnedest to keep this barrier at bay so I can squeeze through. “Quickly! You’re out of time!”

I know. I know! Now or never. Literally. But I look up at Leo—stare at those heavy shoulders and those eyes alight with fire and determination—and I can’t help but pause. Because I feel him. And I feel something I never thought I would in his mind.

Fear.

Afraid that I’m leaving.

Afraid that I won’t.

The pain is too much. “Leo—“

“RAPHAEL!”

Mikey. That was Mikey’s voice. Hurt and scared. I suck in as deep a breath as I can and turn to my older brother. To see him. To take him in.

One last time.

“It’s never been that you need me.” He says before I can open my mouth. “I know you don’t.” My stomach churns. “It’s that I—“

“Leo,”

“I—“

“Wait,”

“Remember what I told you. That night. The last thing I said. Remember it. Please… never forget it.”

“ LEO!”

I let go.

My body slips through the barrier and the pain disappears. I’m floating in the darkness, my body practically weightless.

My eyes locked on Leo.

He lets go of the film, a huff of exhaustion blowing past his lips as he looks almost shocked that I actually made it through.

He waves at me. Smiling. Tears running down his cheeks.

My heart is in my throat as part of me is suddenly panicking, clawing to go back and bring him with me. But the other half is just as desperate to get back home. Back to Sensei. Back to Casey and April.

Back to my brothers.

My skin is tingling.

Something warm washes through my body like a breeze of hot air, warming me inside and out. It’s comforting. I try to focus on it, focus on the warmth and ignore the dread. My stomach finally starts to settle as I breathe deep.

Another pain hits me, duller than before, more like the constant ache of a sore muscle. In my stomach this time. I go to reach for it, but my hand is like lead. I suck in a breath and steady myself—just like liftin’ weights—and force my hand to move. It’s slow, shaky, but does the job. I feel around my stomach—it feels different, smoother—till I come to something soft. Gauze, if I had to guess. Must be bandaged. No doubt the result of a sleepless night for—

“Raph?”

Don. I don’t need to see him to know he’s exhausted. His voice is as tired and weary as it always is when one of us is out of commission. And if he’s here, that means Mikey must be nearby.

“Raph!”

Right on cue. I can feel the others around me stir, gathering closer. Can feel Mikey squeeze my free hand tightly (can't see, but I know it’s him).

My heart feels like it’s beatin’ out of my chest, and it’s not because of the effort it’s taking to drag air into my lungs.

I’m scared. Scared to face them. After everything that’s happened… after everything I did.

“He told you not to go!”

And they don’t even know everything. They weren’t there. They didn’t see…

I should tell them. Everything. But if I do they’ll know it was me. They’ll know it was my fault. That none of this would have happened if I’d been paying attention. And I can’t handle having them look at me like that.

“You owe us for getting our brother killed!”

It feels like there’s a cinderblock on my chest. I try to speak, to tell them what happened—I swear I do—but the words just won’t come out.

“It’s okay, bro.” Mikey’s wrapping his other hand around mine and gripping tight, his voice as steady as a rock. “You’re home and safe and that’s all that matters right now.”

Mikey and his insight, I swear. “Mike…”

“We can talk when you’re feeling better.”

I’m still trying to figure out how in the hell he knew when I’m steamrolled by a headache. I flinch as I feel exhaustion overpower my senses. Still can’t open my eyes. The fatigue is growing with each passing second, and I suddenly don’t know why I’m fighting it.

“Rest, Raphael. “

Sensei’s voice is like a breath of fresh air. It feels like I haven’t heard him talk in months. Maybe I haven’t. Can’t remember… but damn it’s good to hear it now. And he sure doesn’t have to tell me twice, I don’t think it’s a minute before my body relaxes and I’m out like a light.

Last thing I remember is Sensei placing a hand on my chest and leaning in to whisper in my ear. “Yoku nemuru, my son.”

And after three months of running, I’m finally home.

Chapter Text

It’s been four months. Four months, and it still feels like yesterday. I swear I can still smell the blood. Leo’s blood… all over my hands…

I’m still sore from the escapade in the warehouse last month, but everything’s healing alright. Doctor Donnie has been particularly vigilant with check-ups every morning and night (whether I want them or not). Mikey usually tags along, cracking jokes anytime he sees me getting too annoyed at the attention.

It’s the only time I really see ‘em. I stay locked away in my room for the most part, both for rest and because… I’m still not ready to face ‘em. Every day I say I’m gonna and every day I chicken out.

I just can’t hurt ‘em anymore. Can’t take Don looking at me like I’m a murderer. Again. Can’t stand the idea of Mikey looking at me like that at all. Sensei might understand, he understands everything. Though this wouldn’t be the first time I tested his limits…

One of my many cursed talents.

I release my anger in a sigh, trying very hard not to damage the walls anymore. It doesn’t matter what I think about lately, my mind always rounds back to self-loathing. I need to snap out of this. Leo said I needed to be here, needed to help the others. I still don’t have any clue how he thinks I can do anything, but I left him so I could try. I ain’t gonna let that be for nothing. Can’t.

My ears perk up as I hear voices down the hall. Doesn’t sound like they’re coming this way, but I freeze up anyway. I wait at least a minute to be sure they’re not coming to knock on my door (damn it’s sad how freaked out I get) before taking a breath.

It sounds like they’re in…

Quietly as I can, I walk to the end of the hallway, and I hear Mikey talking.

“I know, okay. I know… but…”

The pause is so tense I can feel the strain from here.

“He liked things clean. Just because he’s not here, doesn’t… doesn’t mean…”

Choking silence takes the room again. All I hear is one of them shifting his weight uncomfortably and one of them… wiping something? Petting something? What on earth are they—

“Try this.” Don says, a hint of resignation in his voice.

Curiosity gets the better of me, so I suck in a breath and chance a peak: with both shells to the door, they’re standing in front of the bookcase on the other side of the room… Dusting?

“It works best with a wet cloth. Keeps more of the dust trapped.”

They fall back into silence, meticulously making their way over every book spine and into every corner.

I whip back behind the wall. Can’t take looking at it. Looking at that pristine room that will never be slept in again. My fault. All my—

“There’s no more green tea.”

Mike must have offered the same confused look I felt on my face, because Don clears his throat to continue.

“Sensei and Leo are the only ones who drink it. The only two who know how to make it properly. I went to go make some for Sensei the night after we got back from the farmhouse and there was very little left in the tin. I tried to make it anyway, but it didn’t…”

The dusting stops abruptly.

“Leo’s gone… really gone. And it wasn’t his empty room or the quiet of the lair that made it hit home. It was the tea. That he’s the only one who knew how to make Sensei’s tea in the morning. And the dust in the dojo; Leo’s the one who cleaned it before his morning katas. And the books; he was the only one who would at least attempt to read a book I’d recommend. The only one who caught on to some of my literary references. The only one who…”

I hear him choke down a sob and I have to hold my breath to keep from punching the wall.

“I miss him tucking me in after a nightmare.” Mikey sounds like he’s on the verge of tears too. “I miss watching him train. I miss trying to sneak up on him while he meditated.” They both snort a quick laugh. “I miss hearing him tell us it’s all going to be okay. ‘Cause even when we knew it wasn’t, he was so convincing I always believed him.”

They pause—to hug or something, I assume—and I feel myself moving away. I can’t take hearing this anymore.

Can't take hearing them so broken.

Can’t take hearing about him.

“After everything we’ve been through, everything we’ve survived, I can’t believe it was a stupid bullet…” Mikey is full on crying now. I don’t know if it’s his tears or his words, but I’m suddenly at war with myself; my brain says run, run as far you can until your legs stop working and darkness finds you.

But my feet move me in the wrong direction.

“Why this time? Why couldn’t we get to him in time? Why was he the one who—“

“Because of me.”

I feel their eyes on me like darts on a target, probably as surprised by my sudden appearance as I am. Everything in me screams to get out of here. To stay silent. To never speak of that night again as long as I live. But here I am, standing in front of my brothers, admitting my sin. Because my instinct to run nearly got my family killed last month. I’m not about to let it happen again.

…What the hell am I doing?

“Tell them…”

I suck in a breath and grind my teeth and force the words out.

“He was trying to bring me back to the warehouse to help you two, but I didn’t like that he’d come after me. Didn’t want to be ordered around.”

It sounds so stupid now. So petty. I’d felt entirely justified at the time.

I’d felt…

“I DON’T NEED YOU!”

My fingers curl into my palm before my hands start shaking. Hatred boils in me like a volcano about to erupt. Hatred like I’ve never felt for any of the villains we’ve ever faced.

Hatred for myself.

“So I did what I always do, I got mad. I shouted at him. Argued with him. Tried to slug him.”

I barely have time to process the fear in his voice as my fist flies through the air at his jaw.

“Suddenly I’m skidding across to the other side of the roof. He pushed me outta the way of something…“

Anger rises as I prepare the mother of all curses to hurl at my brother, who’s staring off into the distance, sword drawn and ready.

“I didn’t see it… I was so focused on being angry at him that I didn’t notice the sniper. But Leo did.” Leo always did.

I scan the horizon of roofs until I come across the intrusion; an lone purple dragon on the adjacent building, weapon lying limply in his lap, fighting to wrench free from the blade now pinning him to a chimney through his shoulder. Just barely above his heart. His frantic spasms last all of a minute before he stills entirely. Permanently.

“When I looked up, I see the guy by the chimney with a katana through his chest, and Leo just standin’ there. He was… he was bleedin’… He—“

A chill runs down my spine as I freeze in place, staring at the watery puddle of red that’s slowly crawling towards me. For a minute, my vision blurs. Everything seems to shut down as I slowly look up, tracking the blood to it’s source.

Leo’s staring down at his hand by his stomach, eyes wide.

There’s blood dripping down his fingers.

Dammit. I slam my eyes shut and gulp down the sob that’s begging to come out. My fists are clenched so tight I can’t even feel ‘em anymore.

Run. Run away.

No! Just say it. Say it and be done with it. Be done with them. They’ll hate and curse and never speak to me again, but at least they’ll know. Might even bring them some closure. I owe them that much, at least.

“Tell them…”

“The bullet was meant for me. He pushed me outta the way… He took it. But it was supposed to be me.” I can’t breathe past the lump in my throat. My fist is itching for something hard to connect with. I wanna look up and see if they’re even still standing there, but I don’t dare. Can’t ever look ‘em in the eyes again. “It’s my fault.”

The denial nearly chokes me. It can’t be… there’s no way….

“Leo’s dead ‘cause of me.”

The minute his name leaves my lips I can’t stand being in the room any longer. I want to apologize, want to say I’m sorry, but it’s pointless. It doesn’t mean anything… it won’t bring him back. It won’t change what happened.

What I did.

I can’t fight it anymore. I’m half way out the room before I can blink and I’m shaking so hard I nearly run into the door on my way out.

I don’t get two feet down the hall before I’m abruptly lilting. My hand grasps at the wall to keep me steady, but the room is spinning and I’m not sure which way is up anymore. I hear shouting from behind me, and Mikey’s suddenly at my side with my arm over his shoulder. Don runs in front of me, his eyes searching to find what’s wrong. He’s talking—I can see his lips moving—but I can’t hear a word. There’s a ringing in my ears that drowns everything out.

Don’s eyes lock with mine. Those eyes that know I killed our brother.

I think I’m gonna be sick.

My lids close of their own volition as I feel myself falling.

“Raph… Don’t—“

Leo?

“Don’t shut them out. They’ll need…”

Fearless…

Darkness takes me.

“You think you don’t measure up?”

“I know… you don’t need me.”

“Remember what I told you. That night. The last thing I said. Remember it. Please… never forget it.”

“RAPH!”

I jack-knife upright so fast it makes me dizzy. Like a top that loses speed, I tip over and fall back onto my bed, my eyes snapping shut in a futile attempt to keep the headache at bay. Flashes of memory from the last few days keep jumping in front of me like a movie trailer on fast forward. It takes at least a good two minutes before my mind calms down enough to think clearly and notice someone’s hand on my shoulder, trying to hold me steady.

Worried eyes behind an orange bandana are staring down at me, telling me to lay still. “…Mike?”

“I’m here.” No jokes. That’s never a good sign with him. “Stay still, I’m gonna go get Donnie—“

“No, don’t—” I go to grab his arm, but the sudden movement pulls something in my side, sending a shooting pain across my whole upper body. I can’t hide the wince as my hand goes for the bandages—I think I may have popped a stitch or two—and Mike sits right back down.

“You okay?”

I only nod, afraid my voice might give away how much this stings. Fortunately Mikey stays quiet for the next few moments while I get a handle on it.

Too quiet. Mike’s never this quiet. Not unless he’s really upset. Maybe silence isn’t the best policy right now. “What happened?”

He’s off in another world, staring at my bandages, so I move my hand and try again. “Hey,” He’s still eyeing my injury. “What happened?”

“It was stress.” Don comes through the door, his voice steady and low. I can’t tell if that’s comforting or ominous, but as he closes the door it feels like the latter. “Your body was so at war with itself, it had no choice but to shut down. Reboot.”

Admittedly I’m only half listening because it takes a good amount of focus for me to sit up after that incident; I hate talking to people while lying down, feels far too vulnerable. “How long was I out?” Just a question to keep them occupied. It's taking more effort than I thought to move, so I don’t want them to see me grimace as I trudge to the edge of the bed.

Definitely wasn’t expecting Don’s answer.

“Seventy-two hours.”

“Three days!?”

“Honestly, I don’t think it was enough. It’s only been a month since the warehouse and that stab wound was not minor. You clearly needed the rest.”

I feel their eyes move to my torso, staring at the bandages, and the room goes suddenly quiet. Still. Like someone sucked the oxygen out of the room and we’re all holding our breath to keep from choking.

I’m waiting for Mike to part the silence with a joke or a quip like he usually does, but he’s barely breathing. They’re both just there, staring at me and trying not to catch my eyes. I feel like a caged animal at the zoo.

Run. Run away.

The impulse is so strong, I’m on my feet before I catch the thought and stop it. It freaks my brothers out and they’re both standing with their hands out like their ready to stop me.

Brothers… am I even allowed to call them that anymore? Or did that privilege get buried up at the farmhouse too?

My chest tightens so fast I’m winded. I turn away so they can’t see my face. I should say something… but what else can I—what other words could possibly—“sorry” isn’t enough. Will never be.

“Leo’s dead ‘cause of me.”

My fist is in the wall before I can stop it. Need the pain. Need the connection to keep me here. Keep me from—

“It’s not that you need me.”

Dammit.

“I know you don’t.”

Not again.

“It’s that I—“

I have to get out of here!

“Don’t shut them out.”

It pops into my head just as I’m about to book it for the door.

“They’ll need…”

“—You.”

Clarity comes a little slow. I only catch the tail end of Mikey’s sentence as he grips my torso.

“What?”

“Don’t go, Raph. Stay. Please. We need you.”

He’s not even looking at me. His face is buried in my side as he hugs me close, like he’s afraid to let go.

“Please…”

I… I don’t know what to do. I don’t… he shouldn't want this. He should be furious with me, should hate my guts! He shouldn’t be begging me to stay. He shouldn’t be waiting by my bed. He shouldn’t be here!

I shouldn’t be here!

“Why?” I didn’t mean to ask, I meant to leave. But I can’t help myself. “How can you just… You heard me right? I killed Leo!” My voice cracks as I say his name, which only makes Mikey’s grip tighter. “I killed him…”

“You didn’t!”

Don finds his voice with sudden urgency. He sounds… desperate? I still can’t look at him.

“The Dragons pulled the trigger. Their bullet, their gun. And…” He swallows thickly, not even trying to hide the emotion in his voice. “Leo’s choice.”

My whole body goes rigid.

“He saw it coming and chose to protect you. We all know once Leo’s in protective mode, there’s no stopping him.” He pauses a moment, like he’s enjoying that last thought, before his voice gets intensely serious. “It was his choice, Raph. None of this was your fault. I… I never should have blamed you.”

My eyes snap shut. “You were right—“

“No, I wasn’t! I was angry and scared and hurt, and I thought blaming someone would make the pain go away, but it didn’t, and I never should have blamed you! The dragons set the trap. They’re the ones to blame. They—“ A shrivelled sob escapes him, and it makes my heart lurch. “They took Leo… they killed him. He’s gone because of… because of…”

The minute he starts crying, I can’t help myself. I grab his shell and pull him close, wrapping my arms around him in a vice grip. I half expected him to pull away, but he leans into it hard, burying his face in my shoulder as he lets the tears flow.

Mikey breaks down the minute Don stops talking, crying almost as hard and sobbing much louder. I move one arm to cloak his shoulders and pull him close as well.

And suddenly I feel something rattle loose in my chest. With a brother under each arm and tears wetting each shoulder, relief sweeps over me with such intensity my legs can’t hold me up. I fall to my knees, bringing both brothers with me, and I breathe deep for what feels like the first time in forever. They don’t seem to notice, only holding me tighter as we kneel on the floor of my bedroom.

I need this. I need this moment to be there for them and share their pain. I need this connection, this contact, this tether.

I need them. And they’re here. And for the first time since that night, the urge to run disappears entirely.

I pull them closer, suddenly terrified they’ll disappear like a dream. They both lean into it, crying harder and gripper tighter. Don must have felt the same fear because he abruptly blubbers quietly into my shoulder and throws a vice grip around my shell.

“Please don’t leave. I’m so sorry… It wasn’t your fault. Please Raph, please don’t leave us again. Please…”

I will never forget how broken he sounded.

My hand goes to the back of his head—Leo always did that when he got emotional—and I say with as much conviction as I possess. “I ain’t going nowhere.”

I promise.

“They need you, Raph. They need you.”

“I promise.”

Chapter Text

The sun hit at just the right angle, cascading light across the clouds to colour them with bright oranges and pinks. Nocturnal as he was, Casey was very used to seeing the sunrise, but somehow this wasn’t the same. A New York sunrise didn’t compare to this. Perhaps it was the clean air or the lack of pollution to dilute the colours, or maybe it was the way light bounced off the trees and sparkled across the slight frost crusting the ground.

Or maybe it was because today was the day. Today he’d be saying goodbye to friend. A brother. Burying his body beneath the ground, never to be seen again. Perhaps it was the universe trying to give him a small sense of beauty as he waded through the hurricane of heartache that was wreaking havoc on his body.

Perhaps he was just being overly sentimental. He’d done something similar after his mom died. Nothing was normal anymore, everything either became the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen or something he reviled to the point of making him nauseous. No in-between. Maybe he was just in the throws of grief and trying to lighten the load with a little sentiment.

Leo had always told him sunrises were a sight to behold. It meant a new day had dawned and you would get to witness it unfold.

Sentimental. And cheesy as hell, Leo really was an enormous sap. He didn’t always show it, but when he did, it was full of cliché and tenderness and passion.

A total softy at heart, really. Much like Raph. Tough on the outside, all heart on the inside.

Casey sighed into his grief, tensing his hands and letting his fists quake beside him as he tried to handle the pain.

How… Just how in the hell were they supposed to get past this?

The drive up went much better than Don had expected. With everything that had happened, he was certain it was bound to be a long six hours of twiddling thumbs and awkward glances atop a thick fog of uncomfortable silence.

Fortunately, there was Mikey.

He talked most of the trip, gabbing about anything from video games to favourite foods. He even managed to get Raph to pipe in once or twice. Of course, there were a few times the conversation circled too closely around their missing brother. It was like an exposed nerve; anytime anyone mentioned something that reminded them of Leo, the entire trailer halted into absolute silence. But Mikey always managed to change the subject and perk up again.

Don was doing his best to participate. He knew the talking was a distraction for all of them to keep from thinking about what awaited them at the farmhouse, but he was having a hard time focusing.

He couldn't stop staring at Raph.

It had been two months since their escapade at the warehouse. Two months since they almost lost a second brother to Hun and his goons. And Don was still terrified that Raph would vanish again without a word.

He was just so… silent. And not in his usual brooding way, either. Not with an air of anger, and not in a way that said ‘back off’. He would answer questions directed at him, and he would make small talk to change a subject, but the rest of the time he was completely closed off. Not distant as he had been after that night on the roof, he didn’t seem to be intentionally walling himself away (Don was keeping a close eye out for that). And his eyes were much less hollow than they had been before. But he was still… off.

Since the warehouse, the only time he’d heard Raph say more than few words was last month after his recovery. When Mikey and Don had been dusting in Leo’s room.

When Raph told them what happened on the roof.

“Leo’s dead ‘cause of me.”

He ran out of the room immediately after, and Don had been so panicked he was running off that he didn’t get a chance to process what he’d just said. He was almost grateful that his brother passed out because it meant he couldn’t leave before they had a chance to talk.

Before Don could tell him all the reasons this wasn’t his fault.

He was sure guilt was the cause of Raph’s silence. They’d had a good talk about it when he woke up which ended in tears—at least for the younger two—and Don really thought they’d gotten through to him. But one night wasn’t enough to ward off what might be a lifetime of remorse, he supposed.

The idea of Raph feeling guilty about this his entire life made Don’s heart heavy. But what could he do? What could he possibly say that would make a difference? Raph was there when Leo died. Raph had to watch it happen. Raph had held their brother as the life drained from his body. Don knew if their places had been switched…

He’d never forgive himself either.

He sighed. This wasn’t really his arena. Angry Raph he could handle, grumpy Raph he could humor, but sad Raph… sad Raph was so rare and painful it made Don want to cry.

“Dee? You okay?”

Belatedly Don realized all eyes in the trailer were on him. “Wh-What?”

“Dude, you’ve been staring at Raph for like, ten minutes. What’s up?”

“Nothing. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was…”

But Raph was already back to staring at the floor. Seemed he only checked in to make sure Don was okay and then went back to his own thoughts.

Don sighed in defeat. “It’s nothing, Mikey.”

Nothing he could do.

April couldn’t feel it. She saw the light filtering through the windows and glittering across her skin, but there was no warmth. No tingle of heat radiated from her body. She just felt… cold. Numb. Like when you’ve walked in the freezing wind so long nothing can warm you up.

Today was the day.

Like everyone else in the cabin, sleep did not come to her last night. Instead, she spent the better part of the evening practicing her stoic face. Her family was falling apart, and the only thing she could do to help was keep from adding to their pain by falling apart herself. She needed to be strong. Stoic. Solid. Something for her family to lean on whenever they admitted they needed it.

If they ever admitted they needed it.

Good gracious they were all bull-headed, weren’t they. In their own ways. Mikey was the only one who wasn’t afraid to ask for help, and even he had his moments. Donnie generally knew to ask when he needed emotional help, it was his intellect he was stubborn about. It was like pulling teeth trying to get him to admit he couldn’t solve a problem by himself.

And Raph… was Raph. If you looked up ‘stubborn’ in the dictionary, his picture was bound to be there.

Then there was Leo. He was just about as stubborn as Raph, but he believed it was for good reason. He kept his problems to himself because he always felt a good leader didn’t burden others, but rather helped lighten their loads. The only one he’d really open up to was Splinter, and even then he’d try so hard to be the “perfect student” that he’d keep things hidden.

Stubborn as mules, the whole lot of them.

Too stubborn to admit when they needed help. Too stubborn to talk when they were upset. Too stubborn to let other people share their burdens.

Too stubborn to let others fend off the evils of the world.

Too stubborn to ever quit a fight.

Too stubborn to die… ever…

So she always thought. Hoped. Prayed.

She covered her mouth to keep from making any noise as the tears fell.

By the time they arrived at the farmhouse, Mikey had nearly exhausted his list of stories to lighten the mood. It didn’t seem like anyone was paying attention to them at all, but he said them anyway; if nothing else, they at least kept him from the sorrow that was constantly tapping on the back of his shell.

Stepping out of the trailer, he arched his back dramatically, yawning to hide the grimace he felt coming on. This place used to be happy. It used to be where they came to bond, recover, and catch their second wind. It used to mean freedom. Now all Mikey thought of as they stood in front of the old house was that grave by the tree line.

He shook his head, throwing on his best smile as he turned to his brothers. “Come on, dudes, breathe the fresh air! You don’t find that clean and pure smell in New York City!”

Don quirked a small smile as he stepped out of the trailer, also doing his best not to wallow. “It’s always nice to enjoy the sunshine for a change.”

“Hey! Maybe we can go down to the lake and see if it’s warm enough for a swim? What do ya think, Raph?” No response. Mikey turned. “Raph? Anybody ho—“

Raphael stood only a few steps from the trailer, eyes trained on the trees, staring at one spot in particular. His hands were already balled so tightly into fists his knuckles had paled.

So much for lightening the mood.

Mikey stood beside his brother, ever so gently placing a hand on his arm. “Raph…” Words suddenly left him as his eyes clocked the grave. That small piece of stone that was somehow supposed to represent an entire person. A person who meant the world to all of them. Mikey gripped his brother’s arm tighter. “It’s been a long trip. Maybe we should get some food or something first.”

A moment passed that stretched on with the incoming breeze. The fall leaves danced in the wind, waving their bright autumn colours like an ebbing tide. A chill ran through Mikey’s arm and down his shell; it was already starting to get cold again. How could it possibly be fall already? Hadn’t it just been—

Without a word, Raph began to walk slowly toward the grave, pulling out of Mikey’s grasp in one stride.

“Raph…” But Mikey hadn’t a reason to stop him. Raph hadn’t been there for the burial or the ceremony or any of it. He probably needed some closure. But for whatever reason—maybe the fear that his brother would run off again, or maybe the thought of the grave itself—Mikey’s heart sunk while he watched the red bandana twist in the breeze as it walked away. Something touching his shoulder brought his attention back towards the house.

“It’s okay, Mikey.” Don stared after their sibling as well, the same pain in his eyes that Mikey felt squeezing his heart. “This is why we’re here.”

The younger turtle watched in silence as his older—oldest—brother stopped in front of the grave, shell to his family, and wind kicking up around his feet. Another long moment passed before Raph’s fists clenched again and his head bowed low.

“Should we go with him?” Mikey finally asked, his feet already moving in that direction. If they were with him, he wouldn’t run off. They should—but Don’s grip on his shoulder stopped him short.

“Maybe give him some time.”

“But—“

“He’s not going anywhere, Mikey. He needs this…”

Mikey turned to his brother once more, doing his best to ignore the pounding of his heart. He wouldn’t leave… Raph wouldn’t leave again. And anyways, there’d be nowhere to go out here that could get him caught in a fiery warehouse explosion. No guns, no goons, no Purple Dragons.

“Ok…” He nodded, wrapping his arms around himself in defense of the cold.

He wouldn’t leave. Raph wouldn’t leave again.

Please…

“When the links of life are broken and a child has to part, there is nothing that will heal a parent’s broken heart.”

It was a simple poem, something he read in a magazine years ago, when his children were still very small. But it stuck with him, worming under his skin and wrapping around his heart. Splinter had known much grief in his lifetime. He’d lost his beloved wife to a blade, his daughter to a fire, and his clan to a rival. He knew what it was to lose everything you loved and try to continue on.

But what do you do when that tether, that thing that kept you from giving in to grief, is also taken from you?

His children were his tether. Had he not found them when he did, he was certain he would not have survived. They gave him purpose when he had none, family when he’d lost all, and love when he was most alone.

His children saved his life. And continued to save it ever day that they lived.

Now one of them was gone. And Splinter didn’t know if he could survive more grief. Without his whole family. Without his eldest. Without Leonardo.

Doubts clouded his mind, sinking their teeth of guilt and pain deep enough to tear at his soul. If he had not tried to replace what he had… if he had not taught his sons the ways of the ninja and simply let them live their lives as normal children… perhaps Leonardo would still be with them.

He knew such thoughts were folly. His boys could never have lived normal lives, and they expressed on multiple occasions how the outlet of ninjitsu had saved them from loneliness. But doubt would forever haunt him. There had to be something he could have done… something.

He sighed heavily, breathing out the grief.

His son, his beloved Leonardo was gone, and no amount of regret could change that. He joined an ever growing hole in Splinter’s heart that would never be filled, and all the old rat could do was beg the universe not to take any more.

A deep, resonant desire to hold his remaining children close overtook him, prompting Splinter to stand from his folded position and head to the barn where Michelangelo was keeping watch.

Where his eldest son’s body lay. Where a corpse had replaced his child.

“My Leonardo…” He wiped a tear from his eye. Not now… not yet. His time to grieve would come later.

Today, he needed to be there for his family.

From inside the house, Don peaked out the window towards the grave, squinting through the light refracting off the glass. Raph was still out there. Still standing with head bowed low and fists clenched tight. From this angle, he looked exactly as he had when—

“You owe us for getting our brother killed!”

Don sighed out his guilt. This wasn’t the first time he’d hurled a hurtful accusation at Raph. They were brothers, professionals at pushing each other’s buttons and finding what hurt most. But this… this one was going to be a long road to forgiveness. If not for Raph, then for himself.

He was still shaken by his own ignorance. How could he not have seen the pain his brother was in? How was his own anger so blinding that logic was incapable of penetrating?

His hands still shook when he thought of how close it had been. How any minute later would have been too late. How they’d found Raph barely conscious in a pool of his own blood.

How much he’d looked like Leo had on that roof.

If they’d been any later… any second later… Raph would be—

“Over here, Dee! I found him!”

Don followed Mikey’s voice, wafting smoke from his face as the flames continued to spread. Finding his way around a graveyard of wooden debris and cement bits, he stepped through a puff of thick smog and came face to face with his worst nightmare.

Raph, eyes half-lidded and skin pale, lying huddled on the ground with blood spilling around him in buckets.

His heart stopped. Images of Leo flashed through his mind.

Too late. He was too late! It was happening again and he was too late to—

“He’s still breathing!”

Every fiber of Don’s being suddenly snapped to, clinging to Mikey’s words like metal to a magnet. He stepped forward cautiously and swallowed his fear to keep a cool head.

Mikey found no such calm. “Raph! Raph, can you hear me?”

“Leo…”

The voice was weak and broken, but it still swept the young turtle with relief. “We’re here.” He grabbed his brother’s hand and gave it a good squeeze to emphasize his presence before looking to his other sibling with desperation. “Don! Do something!"

The elder sibling was already kneeling, assessing injuries and testing vitals; pulse was quick and erratic, breath short and thin, and there was enough blood on the floor to fill a pool. Thankfully it wasn’t all Raph’s. Don’s eyes quickly noted the body of Hun not too far away, but couldn’t take time to analyze what happened. “Help me flip him. Gently.”

With cautious hands, the two moved Raph onto his shell, both flinching as he coughed and sputtered blood on the way. To his credit, his hand was still covering the wound, applying pressure as he could. Don would have been impressed if he had the mind to be.

He went to move his brother’s hand, but it was stubbornly in place. “Raph, move your—“

He couldn’t see the wound to—“Raph!” And finally he shoved the appendage aside, swallowing his fear when blood squelched over Leo’s plastron at the release of pressure.

Don’s stomach churned anew as the image of Leo’s blood-soaked body stained his eyes. As gently as he could, he pried Raph’s hand out of the way. His eyes narrowed, fear and desperation almost drowning him immediately.

No, it was okay. Not too late. Not this time. He was still alive. They could still save him.

Don swallowed thickly and shook his head, placing his own hand over the wound and pressing to stop the blood flow.

“Raph? Raph? Can you hear me?” Mikey continued to try and coax their brother to speak. His eyes were open, but they looked hazy and grey, like they’d lost their luster. “Come on dude, say something! Call me a name! Anything!”

“Leo…”

An involuntary flinch made Mikey close his eyes momentarily. Raph sounded so scared… He shifted closer to try and catch his brother’s eye line. “It’s okay, dude, we got you.”

“Mi—“ Suddenly Raph was coughing, blood practically pouring from his lips. “Mikey?” His eyes began to close.

Panic took over. Mikey grabbed his brother’s hand with both his own, squeezing for dear life. “I’m here!” Tears sprang to his eyes. “I’m here, just squeeze my hand if you can’t see me!” Raph’s gaze wandered again, like he was fighting a losing battle with consciousness. “Dee, what do we do!?”

“Here.” Don placed Mikey’s panicked hand over the wound.. “Keep pressure while I wrap it.” They needed to get him home fast. Moving him risked bleeding out, but the warehouse being on fire erased the option of staying put. He worked quickly and efficient, splitting his effort between focusing and forcing away panic. “There. That’ll have to do.” A cry from around a nearby crate grabbed both brothers’ attention. Gunfire followed, then another cry. Don looked to Mikey. “Time to go.”

“Are you sure we can move him?”

“No choice. We have to get—“

“Get what!?” Raph cut in, his voice tired but frustrated. Don didn’t have time to register why, he was just glad to hear a voice at all.

“Get out of here. Casey and Sensei can only hold them off for so long.” The two younger turtles pulled their brother to a standing position, grateful that more blood didn’t start dripping from his mouth. But he couldn’t stand on his own. His feet dragged as he gazed across the room, staring at something in the middle distance.

He was still fighting for consciousness though. “Don…”

“It’s okay, Raph. We’ll get you out, just hold on.”

A flash of fear jolted across both as their older brother’s head lilted, like speaking that one word cost him whatever energy he had left.

Mikey stepped forward, squaring his shoulders. “I’ll take point and clear the path. Can you hold him on your own?”

Don nodded.

“D-Don…”

Raph’s voice was growing weaker, and there was a desperation in it that Don couldn’t put words to. It made his chest tighten.

Still alive. Not too late. Not—

“You owe us for getting our brother killed!”

Tears rolled down Don’s cheeks, unchecked and unnoticed, as his brother’s head once again lilted, his body feeling heavier.

“Just save your strength, Raph. We can talk after we get you fixed up, okay? After we’re home and safe.”

Don shook his head of the memory.

They were home and safe now. Don had apologized and it seemed like Raph took it to heart. But still… still Don saw the pain in his brother’s eyes. That pain that said he blamed himself—loathed himself—for things that were never in his control.

Don sighed once more, guilt and worry and fear all rolling through him like a building storm.

“He still out there?”

Mikey’s voice boomed through the silence, catching Don by surprise, which he hid by adjusting his glasses. “Yeah.”

“Do you think we should bring him in? Or at least get him some food or something? It’s been hours.”

They both knew the futility of offering their brother food in this state, but that wasn’t what was making Don pause.

“…Donnie?”

“I… I don’t know, Mikey. This isn’t exactly my forte.” He gave a light shrug of his shoulders as he pieced the words together. “Emotions were always your area of expertise. Yours and Leo’s…” He tried to stop that last thought, but was too late. Mikey went silent and Don immediately regretted saying the name. But as he was about to abandon the conversation all together, he heard a small giggle began bubbling from his younger sibling. “Dare I ask what’s so funny?”

Mikey took a moment, allowing his laughter to simmer as he spoke. “Dude, in what world was Leo good with emotions?”

Don suddenly felt his defences rise—for his own analysis or his brother’s honour, he wasn’t sure—as he hunched his shoulders and folded his arms. “You’ve said so yourself. Leo always knew how to cheer us up or calm us down.”

“Trial and error, bro. Not natural talent.” Mikey chuckled at the puzzled—almost heated—look on his brother’s face. “Don’t you remember the first time he tried to cheer you up when an invention wasn’t working? He told you you just needed to work harder, and you’d get it. So you stayed up for seventy-two hours straight trying to get that thing to work, until Sensei finally forced you to rest.”

Don had a vague recollection. “We were eight, Mikey.”

“Or that time Raph was so angry he broke the door to the dojo and Leo tried to help by telling him to ‘calm down’ which only pissed Raph off more and he broke the other door?”

“We were thirteen, he’s grown a lot since both those instances.”

“Exactly.” Mikey thrust a finger in the air in an “aha!” gesture. “Leo was never good with emotions, probably because he worked so hard to suppress them in himself that he didn’t understand when others expressed them. But he was an excellent learner. He’d try helping us one way, and if that didn’t work, he’d try another.” Eyes glazing over with memories of his eldest brother, Mikey paused to enjoy them a moment. “Leo was really good at trying. At working. At never giving up until he figured it out. He was good at knowing us. At understanding us. Bt only because he’d worked so hard at it for so long. With him gone… I guess it’s our turn to learn…”

Don’s shoulders relaxed as he watched Mikey sit by the window, staring out towards the grave. His tone had become intensely somber on that last sentence.

“He was really good at inspiring though. Somehow he always knew exactly what to say to make a hopeless situation seem possible.” Mikey continued. “And then knew exactly what to do to make it actually possible. Probably part of the whole ‘leader’ training or something.” A sad smile crossed his lips which prompted Don to place a hand on his shoulder. “Sure wish we could hear one of those speeches right now.”

The two stood in silence, staring out the window at their brother’s shell while a gust of wind whipped his bandana tails to and fro. Don did his best to tamp down his own grief before speaking. “Trial and error, huh?”

Mikey felt Don’s hand leave his shoulder and wiped a tear from his eye before glancing over to see a jacket held out to him.

Don shrugged. “We’ve tried distance.”

Mikey grabbed the coat with a smile.

There was nothing but stillness left. The wind outside had gone quiet, silencing the old wood of the barn and removing the ghostly chorus of drafts sneaking through the cracks. Light filtered in through every crevice it could find, warming the barn and melting much of the ice that had formed overnight.

But Mikey still felt cold.

Every time he looked at that black bag—every time he thought of the person inside it—his blood froze and sent chills through his veins. His every breath stung like tiny needles pricking at his lungs.

This was it. This was the day. This was when they were going to burry their brother in the ground and they’d never see him again. He was going to be gone. Forever.

Truly dead.

And all Mikey could do was think of all the things he was going to miss.

Leo attempting to play a prank only to have Mikey turn it around on him.
Leo teaching him a new move to use against Raph the next time they sparred.
Leo appearing out of nowhere and saving his shell from a Foot soldier.
Leo attempting to sneak past Sensei and failing miserably.
Leo actually waking up late and getting ribbed about it the rest of the week.
Leo reading Mikey a story to help him sleep.
Leo and Raph squaring off against Don and Mikey in a snowball battle.

Leo telling them that they were stronger together.

“Stay with me. Then we’re… invincible…”

Mikey closed his eyes and hugged his knees and cried, his tears hitting the ground and disappearing into nothing.

It wasn’t fair… it just wasn’t fair.

As carefully as possible, the family made their escape. Mikey fended off any remaining Dragons with frightening speed, until they met up with Splinter and Casey. With all the exits blocked except the roof, they climbed the stairs as fast as they could with Raph between them. Smoke and fire had filled the entire warehouse, gunfire splitting the silence every few moments as stray thugs tried to salvage the night by pegging off an enemy to no avail. After several close calls, they finally made it to the roof, all having to work together to pass their fallen member from building to building.

Don kept close watch of Raph’s vitals, checking for a pulse every few minutes and frowning at how sluggish it had become. They still had time. He’d slowed the bleeding, which should be enough for them to get him home, stitch him up, and pump him full of blood again. Still time to—

The pulse was gone. “No…” He pressed harder into the carotid, absolutely refusing to believe there was nothing there. But no beat met his fingers. “No no no no no!” Don fumbled as he halted and lay Raph on the ground, gentle as possible, but abruptly enough that he took Mikey—under Raph’s other shoulder—down with him.

“What is it?”

There was no filter on Mikey’s panic, but no time for Don to form words. His mind was instantly sifting through dozens of scenarios: could his brother’s brain survive without oxygen until they reached the lair (they were only ten minutes away), could they scrounge up parts for a blood transfusion here, or have Mikey run to the lair and back with supplies, or could they—

“Don!”

The frantic voice of his younger brother snapped him from his thoughts. He was already doing compressions—when had he started?—but blood was now squelching from the wound on Raph’s side.

“Mikey, I need you to—“

“I have it, Donatello.” Splinter knelt in front of the wound and placed his hands on it firmly, quietly rumbling a low chant.

Emotions running rampant, Don nearly shouted at his father to do something with the wound, when he noticed a slight hint of a glow surround the area Sensei’s hands covered. He was chanting a healing mantra, of course! And it looked like it was working.

Don managed one sigh of relief—the briefest of moments—before his father turned to him with a twinge of fear in his eyes. “I cannot heal it enough to close the wound.”

“Switch with me.” He waited for Splinter to take over compressions—chanting another healing mantra as he did—before assessing the laceration once more. “Mikey, hand me your bandana.” He demanded, taking his own from his head and pulling a shurikan from his belt. “Sorry Sensei.” He apologized as he cut free a piece of his fathers robe and placed it over the wound. He held his hand out for his brother’s accoutrement, but when his hand remained empty, he spared a moment to look at his younger brother; body trembling, eyes watering, and hands grasping Raph’s for dear life. Had Don any emotions to spare, he would have attempted to comfort. But they were running out of time. “Mikey, bandana!”

But the younger’s mind was entirely elsewhere. “You can’t die, Raph. You just can’t. Please…”

“Mikey!” Don could feel his own panic rising. Too late… again… they were going to lose him. Just like—

NO! Don absolutely refused to allow it to happen again. He could fix this. He just needed ”MIKEY!”

A gasp of air popped into Raph’s lungs. Splinter quickly checked for a pulse and found one weakly thrumming beneath his fingers. His nod of confirmation had everyone release the fearful breaths they’d been holding.

Everyone except for Don. “Mik—“

“Here Don.” Casey took the bandana from the young turtle’s head, having to force his hands to unclench as he did, and tossed it over.

Don made quick work of tying the bandanas together with the bottom hem of his father’s robe, then wrapped the whole thing around Raph’s torso. He had Casey hold the other piece of his father’s cloth to the wound and tied the makeshift bandage around it, pulling as tight as he could to create a solid tourniquet. Hopefully, it would slow the bleeding enough for them to get Raph back home without any more incidents.

“We have to move quicker.” He said sternly, wiping his brow as he helped Mikey lift their older brother as gently as possible.

“Hang in there, Raph.” Mikey soothed, his eyes finding their strength and resolve once more. “We’re almost home.”

Don’s feet felt impossibly heavy, trudging through the frosted grass with such lethargy he practically had time to note every muscle and synapse as it was activated to move him forward. Towards the barn. Towards that black bag. Towards a lifetime of grief and pain that was impossible to even fathom.

Intellectually, Don knew all about grief. He’d read many books on the subject: the psychosis involved, the stages, the long and short term effects of such emotional strain on the body. He knew what it was to experience grief in terms of vocabulary; he knew the emotions he was feeling and could describe them in terms of where he was on the spectrum, as well as where they fell in the five stages of grief (he was somewhere between denial and bargaining, but not quite at anger). He could even give a rather accurate estimation as to how long these emotions would last and what they would do to his body as he worked through them. Intellectually, Don knew about grief.

But nothing he’d read had ever prepared him for the pain. Reading about loss, he certainly empathized with what the people in the books experienced, and he could extrapolate and estimate what his own experience would be. But none of his projections came even close to what it was truly like. To what he was feeling now. The description of a hole in one’s heart came closest to an accurate depiction, but wasn’t strong enough to do justice to the actual feeling. In fact, Don found himself at a loss for finding any words—in any language he’d ever studied—that truly described what he felt right now. Pain, grief, loss, depression, anxiety, fear; all of them failed to lend the same weight to the depths he felt them.

He was lost. He couldn’t describe the pain he felt, and he had no idea how to stop it. It was what Don referred to as a “dead end” equation: something he would never be able to solve, yet never be able to stop trying. This was normally when Leo would step in and—

“Some problems aren’t meant to be solved, Don.”

His feet stopped moving.

“Some are just meant to be experienced.”

That’s right… Leo wouldn’t be there for support now. There’d be no one to lean on when he felt ill-equipped to solve a problem. He’d be alone…

“But you never have to experience it alone. We got your back.”

All alone…

“Always.”

Standing in front of the barn, Don found himself wholly unable to walk in. If he didn’t see it, it wasn’t real. Leo could still be out there somewhere… he could…

Back to stage 1: denial.

I don’t remember this tree.

Mikey says it was Leo’s favourite spot to read, and the others all agree, but I don’t remember it. I know he liked reading up where he could keep an eye on all of us, but I don’t remember this specific tree. Mikey’s always been good at those details, at remembering the small things about us. Remembering the good.

I wish I knew how he does that.

I don’t remember the good so well. Not even with Leo. Especially with Leo. I know we had good times, I just can’t seem to dig out those memories. All I get are flashes of every fight we ever had. Every time he’d gotten in my way, got me in trouble, or pissed me off. Every time he’d made me so angry I wanted to slug him in the—

I barely have time to process the fear in his voice as my fist flies through the air at his jaw, when something crashes hard into my side.

My eyes close without prompt in a sad attempt to ignore the memory. I’ll never get away from it. From what I did. What I said.

“I DON’T NEED YOU!”

I take a deep breath and let it out slow, attempting to uncurl my fingers before they start drawing blood from my palms. The best way I can think to ground myself is to lower my eyes from the tree to the grave.

…I still can’t think of anything to say.

No use apologizing, he’s already gone. Can’t change that. And saying what I should have said on that roof was useless too. I was too late. Lost my chance.

Lost a lot that night.

All I can think of as I stare at this old stone Casey’d carved my brother’s name into was how cold it was. Too cold. Leo definitely wasn’t Mikey levels of warm to anyone, but he wasn’t stone.

He cared. Deeply. Often too much. Just didn’t always know how to show it, I guess.

I hate him.

A stone shouldn’t be here to mark his life. He was a pain in the ass, sure, but never heartless.

His condescending eyes.

Always distant. But always there.

I hate his smug face.

Someone you could rely on. Depend on. No matter what.

I hate him.

Always there when you needed him. Sometimes when you didn’t.

Hate everything about him.

So why can I only think about—

“I DON’T NEED YOU!”

Guilt and self-loathing have become so engrained in my system, I barely notice them crushing me again. They can’t bring me any lower. I’m buried so deep I can’t even look up to find rock bottom.

Because no matter what I say, no matter what I do,

“You shouldn’t have left.”

It will always be my fault.

“RAPH!”

I got him killed. The damn bullet was meant for me and he took it instead.

“You still don't—“

“No, you don’t get it.” My hands are back into fists so tight my knuckles pale. “They need you. You’re our leader. They need you, depend on you.” He had to know. “They don’t need me. Not like they need you.”

I lock my legs in place and dig into my stance to keep from shaking, emotions bubbling and boiling like a volcano about to erupt.

“If you were here, you could get them through this. You’d know what to say. What to do.” I’m falling apart at the seams. And I’m completely helpless to stop it. No amount of rage can help me now.

“It shouldn’ta been you. That bullet wasn’t meant for you. It shoulda been… it would’ve been better if…” I think my voice is cracking, but I can barely hear it over the ringing in my ears.

Can’t hold it in any more.

“Why did you come!?” I glare at the grave as my anger feels like it’s boiling my skin, making me shout even louder. “If you hadn’t followed—if you’d just let me go—they would have taken me! Why do you always do it!? Why do you always get in the way!? Why don’t you ever just let me pay the price for my stupidity alone!? I told you to back off! I told you—“

“I DON’T NEED YOU!”

I wish he were—

I try to hold it back, but the sob bursts from my lips so intensely it makes my legs finally give way, taking me to my knees with my head lowered in shame and fists quaking at my sides.

I can’t stop thinking it. Can’t stop reliving it. Can’t stop hearing what I thought that night.

I wish he were—

“I didn’t mean it! I could never mean it!” A haze surrounds me, black smoke so thick I know I’m gonna suffocate any minute.

“I’m… I’m so…” It doesn’t matter. He’s dead. He’s dead forever. And it’s my fault. It will always be my fault. “I…” My words do nothing but choke me. “It was supposed to be me…”

The urge returns, so overpowering I barely have time to recognize what it is before my mind fills with one thought

Run. Run away. As far as I can go. Farther. Run until the memory fades. Run until the guilt gives way. Run until it doesn’t hurt anymore.

But just as I’m about to give in, something holds me down, tethers me to sanity. Don’t know what it is, but I don’t fight it. No more strength to fight. No more…

“RAPH!”

My whole body shakes and rattles like a quake while the stake in my chest attempts to dissect me alive. But I gather what courage I have left and force myself to say the words I should have said on that roof. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry! For leaving, for fighting, for the horrible things I—“ Another sob scrapes through my lips like flesh on sandpaper. “M’Sorry…” My voice is as unsteady as my body, my lungs feel like they’ve curled in on themselves and died, and everything in me is still screaming to run away into the blissful arms of denial for the rest of my days.

But whatever is tethering me still keeps me there. Clings tighter. Holds firmer. It’s presence is almost… comforting.

Could it be—

“…Leo?”

I force my eyes to peer open, and flitting just off my vision to my right is a flash of blue. I crank my eyes over, frantic to catch one more glimpse of it before it disappears, to run after it and never come back… but it’s gone. The blue is gone. Replaced with… orange?

The haze suddenly starts to dissipate, and as my eyes clear, I see Mikey sitting beside me in the dirt, arms gripped firmly around my torso, eyes sealed shut, and tears pouring down his cheeks in droves. The blue streaks to my left, but as I twist my eyes over to catch it, it’s turned purple. And there’s Don, arms wrapped around my shoulders in a vice grip, face buried half in my shell and half in his own arm, and breath wheezing in and out in a strange rhythm, like he’s trying to hold it in and letting it out in bursts.

The urge to run disappears.

And the longer I look at them, the more the haze fades.

The more the pain radiates. And grows. And grows.

Looking at that stone, at that name carved out of a life that meant so much, the pain—the loss—is too much to take.

Almost.

My brothers give me the strength to breathe through it. The more the grief grows, the more I lean into their hold.

“I’m sorry.” I say it for them. For Leo. For everyone that’s living this nightmare because of me. “I’m sorry.” It keeps tumbling out of my mouth, over and over with every thump of my heart. “I’m sorry.”

I didn’t mean it. Any of it.

“I’m sorry.”

If I could take it back, I would. I never would have left.

“I’m—“

“We got you, Raph.”

With Mikey’s words, the last of the haze fades. Pain, hot and blinding and all encompassing drops on me in an instant. My heart suddenly feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest as my breath is forced from me like I’ve been kicked and winded in an instant. The pain…

I scream.

No sound, but my mouth falls open and what air is left is being forced away with all the anger I possess. I double over, my face only inches above the ground, this ground that now holds all that remains of my brother.

I think I’m still screaming. I can’t breath. I’m going to pass out. Gotta stop the pain! The haze starts to return…

No! I’m not runnin’ this time! I grip Mikey’s arm with one hand and Don’s with the other, and cling for dear dear life. As tightly as I can muster.

I think I’m gonna die.

“Leo…”

But if I go, at least my brothers are here. At least we’re together. At least—

“Tell them…”

No. No we ain’t doin’ this now! “Leo!”

“…M’Sorry.”

“Leo…”

The world goes dark again.

The time was creeping closer, time to place their brother in the ground. To say goodbye. To leave and move on as though it had never happened.

Mikey and Don had carried the body. Splinter helped place it in the ground. Casey shovelled dirt on top. April placed the stone marker. They all performed their jobs with as much reverence and gravity as befit their honourable older sibling. The ceremony itself was short, each person saying a few words of goodbye, nothing extravagant. But after all words were said, all tears shed, and all emotions bled, the group stood staring at the pile of dirt now covering the life of someone so vital.

No one wanted to leave.

These were the last moments, the last chance they had to sit in their denial and pretend everything was still normal. That the worst hadn’t happened. That it had all just been a nightmare.

That he might somehow still be alive.

“Together, we’re invincible.”

Mikey sank to his knees, his cries coming in long, desperate bursts. Splinter was by his side in an instant, an arm over his shoulder and comfort radiating as strongly as he could muster. April had to bite down on her lip hard to keep from following suit. Her chest ached and her legs quivered, but she remained standing, gripping Casey’s hand for all she was worth. Caught up in his own thoughts, he didn't seem to notice the intensity of her grip. He was looking around at the house and the trees. Looking for Raph.

But the red-banded brother was nowhere to be found. He was close, of that Casey was certain, but not anywhere near the grave. Or his family.

Casey closed his eyes, slowly letting out the breath he’d been holding. He wasn’t a religious person by any measure, but in that moment, he lifted a silent prayer to whatever remained of their fallen brother’s spirit.

‘Stay with him, Leo. He’s gonna need you. Let him know he ain’t alone.’

A strong wind kicked up, billowing cold through their little gravesite and blasting through to the house. Casey smiled.

‘Atta boy, Leo.

There’s so much fog. A haze of smoke growing thicker by the second, warning me not to walk through it. Every step I take towards it fills my lungs with poison, screaming at me not to breathe lest I spread it through my body and it tears me apart from the inside out.

I need to go forward. I need to get to the grave, to see it, to watch the body buried beneath the ground, to see the closure of it all. I’ll regret it if I don’t. Regret it forever.

But the fog prevents me. It solidifies around me like an iron wall, it’s tendrils of smoke whispering warnings of death and pain and grief and—

Guilt.

“RAPH!”

Blame.

“…M’Sorry.”

I punch something beside me—can’t see what it is through the fog, but it feels solid enough—feeling a sharp pain ripple through my calloused hand. But it fades almost immediately. It wasn’t enough. Need more. More intensity. Longer lasting.

I punch again, feeling something sharp cut through my skin. But it’s still too fleeting. I throw my fist again and again until the pain is enough that it lasts longer than a second. Long enough to let me see through the fog.

There’s a barn. A clearing. A large tree. Leo’s tree. Leo’s…

They’re all there, gathered around him. My family. Grieving, crying, mourning because of my failures.

Because of me.

Because Leo’s—

I think I’m gonna hurl.

They’re standing beneath that tree and staring at the ground. Staring at it. Cursing it. Weeping over it.

His grave. Cold and desolate and unfeeling. Just like Leo.

“You don’t mean that.”

I don’t. But it’s easier to remember the things I hated about him. Easier to be angry at him. To hate him. For coming after me. For babysitting. For not trusting me.

For leaving.

“Still here.”

He’s not. His voice floats around me like a vulture circling prey, tempting me to believe it’s real. But it can’t be. He’s gone. Left me alone on that roof, holding his body, begging for death. He can’t be here. He can’t be. He’s… he’s…

“Dead?”

“RAPH!”

I start throwing fists again.

“Raph…”

“Tell them…”

Light filters in slowly. Like rays creeping through an old window shade. I can’t move because my body aches so much. My breath is coming slow and steady, and for the first time I’m not waking up surrounded by fog. Everything is clear. I know where I am.

I’m at the farmhouse. By Leo’s grave. With my brothers around—

Mike. Don.

My eyes snap wide open and scan the area. Where are they? Did they leave? Did I drive them off again?

“Hey Raph—“

I turn so sharp, Don pulls his arms back in a surrender position. “—Whoa! Just me.”

I let breath come again and nod, focusing on trying to slow my pounding heartbeat. Don just watches me, patient and calm—he’s gotta be freezing sitting there in the dirt like that—while I try to settle myself. He must notice me searching because he answers my question before I can ask it.

“He’s inside getting some tea. We figured you’d probably be cold when you woke up.”

I nod, but honestly, I don’t feel the cold yet. I can see my breath, but I’m not feeling the wind’s bite. Of course, it’s only then that I notice the blanket around my shell. I look up in time to see Don shiver and immediately feel guilty. His eyes are red and baggy like they get when he’s stayed up all night, and I don’t gotta ask to know we’ve been out here a while. And him and Mike have been with me the whole time.

“Here.” I offer the blanket, but he’s quick to shake his head.

“No, you should keep it. You’ve been out here longer and I’m pretty sure your extremities are going numb.”

I sling the blanket around my shell and give my hands a good clench; he’s right, I don’t feel a thing. And this time it ain’t because I punched something too hard.

“Besides, Mikey should be back with the tea any minute.”

…There’s something else he wants to say. He always readjusts his glasses when he’s holding something back. I should prod. I should make sure he’s okay. But everything in me wants to hang onto this silence. I don’t have the strength for any more emotional outbursts. How does Mikey do this all the time?

“Look who finally woke up!”

Speak of the devil.

“How are you feeling? You up for some tea?”

I glance at the cup warily, not entirely sure I want to risk drinking tea made by Mikey. He’s not exactly known for his brewing skills. But he must have seen the face I made because he laughs and hands me the mug.

“Don’t worry, Sensei made it.”

In that case… “Thanks.” I say quietly, still keeping my eyes to ground. Can’t dare look at either of them. The tea provides a perfect way to avoid eye contact, allowing me to focus solely on the cup and enjoy the warm now radiating through my chest to my fingertips.

Mikey folds his legs and sits on my other side. Normally being surrounded like this would give me those caged animal instincts, but for right now, I’m perfectly content to have a brother on each arm.

We sit there in silence for a good long while, all drinking our tea and letting the air remain still around us. It’s odd sitting in the quiet like this. Not something I normally find comforting. Today it is. I can’t explain why, but I ain’t gonna fight it either. I’m perfectly content to enjoy the mute company.

The wind dies entirely after a few minutes and the world comes to a complete stand still.

No matter how much I try to avoid it, my eyes keep dragging over to that name carved in stone. Every time I look at it I see his face, twisted in fear and shoutin’ my name as he pushes me away.

“RAPH!”

Blood dripping down his lips as he fights to speak.

“You still… don’t get it.”

That stupid smile on his face and a kind look in his eyes, like he was trying to convey something he couldn’t put into words.

“…M’Sorry.” He whispers something haltingly with the last of his breath, but I’m panicking too much to let it sink in.

My eyes go wide and my mind snaps to. I remember...

“Remember what I told you. The last thing I said. Never forget. Please…”

I swear I hear him whisper in my ear beside me.

“Tell them…”

“I’m never far from my brothers.” I feel both of them turn to look at me abruptly. Probably shouldn’t have just blurted it out like that, but what the hell. It’s out there now. “Leo—“ A sob hops up my throat and I gotta take a moment to push it away. Just let me say this… “Right before he died… he said for me to tell you ‘I’m never far from my brothers. I’m so proud…’” I have to take another sharp breath as the image bleeds into my mind. “’I’m so proud of all of you’. Or at least, I think that was the last part… he didn’t… he didn’t finish…”

Dammit. I can hear the end of his sentence trail off with the last of his breath. I can feel his body grow cold under my hands. I’m shaking again… my tea spills all over the place, so I abandon it on the ground.

I hear Mikey sniff beside me and turn to see his eyes pouring tears again. But he’s smiling… I look at Don and he’s the same.

We all know what Leo means when he says he’s proud.

Mikey reaches forward and touches the stone, sniffing through his tears. “We love you too, Leo.”

Don does the same motion, touching the stone as reverently as possible, but is unable or unwilling to say anything as he lets the tears flow.

“His last thoughts were about us… the idiot couldn’t even think of himself on his own death bed.” I can’t tell if I’m speaking out loud or in my head anymore. Everything just… aches. “He thought about us… even after I—“

“He didn’t blame you, Raph. I’m sure of it.” Mikey cuts in, hand still grasping the stone, tracing the name with his eyes. “He loved you. You have to know that. He loved you.”

Don reaches over with his free hand and takes mine, holding it tight enough that I can feel him through the numbness. “And we do too.” He says emphatically. “We don’t… we could never…” He cuts himself off by lifting his head up to try and hold the tears in so he can speak. “We love you. Always.”

Mikey follows suit, taking my free hand in his and giving me one of his classic ‘it’ll be okay’ smiles.

I can’t say it makes the guilt go away. If anything, their understanding makes it burn even hotter.

But they mean what they say. I can see it. Feel it. And that’s more than enough. More than I deserve.

“I’m sorry—“ I barely get the word out through the ache in my chest. “I’m so sorry…”

Tears stream down my cheeks and I don’t bother trying to stop ‘em. My body quakes with my silent sobs, and I cling to my brothers for dear life as we wrap our arms around each other’s shoulders, crying and clutching and mourning together, Mike and Don still touching that cold stone with one hand, connecting us with it.

Connecting us with the object that now represents our brother.

Connecting us with Leonardo.

“Still here… I’m never far from my brothers.”

The tears are unending.

Chapter Text

The walls of the lair were eerily quiet. And there were a lot more shadows and random squeaks and squeals in the sewer at this hour. Perfect setting for a horror movie, Raph couldn’t help but think as he wandered through the empty lair. He wasn’t used to being awake so late. Normally when they got home from patrol he’d cool off with a quick work out, maybe a small snack, then put head to pillow and pass out immediately.

His routine had changed lately.

He had to do the rounds. Inform Splinter about events on patrol, check in on Mikey (he’d come home with a bad cold the other day and was taking full advantage of the pampering his illness allowed), and make sure Don actually slept for at least a few hours every night. All chores that had become his responsibility since Leo left three months ago to go on a mission with the Ancient One.

Three months without Leo.

It had been more of an adjustment than Raph expected. The first few days were no different than any of the other times he’d been away, and it was nice being the “responsible” sibling for a change. Made Raph feel important. Needed. But by the end of the second week, responsibility had become a hefty burden. Almost too much. Like weight training; the first few lifts are easy, but as you keep going, it gets heavier and heavier. And the weight of Leo’s absence was one he didn’t think he could carry for much longer.

Though, it wasn’t just the chores. If Raph was being honest with himself—only here, in the confines of his mind where no one else could hear—he would admit, he missed his brother’s presence. Didn’t miss getting bossed around or being coddled, but it was comforting having Leo nearby. On missions and at home. Having that sense of someone always being at your back was reassuring. Especially when it was someone like Leo who always seemed to have a solution for when things went wrong. Not to mention he was more entertaining to poke fun at than Mikey. And he certainly made for a good sparring partner.

Yeah, Raph liked having big brother around. Even if he was a pain in the ass.

He'd never say any of that out loud. But he would quietly think it the next time he saw their fearless leader.

Whenever that was.

Shaking the thought away, Raph continued on his rounds for the evening. He had one more chore for the night: make sure Donnie actually got some sleep. The egghead had been getting lost in another invention of his and ignoring his bed for several weeks. Raph had to force him to sleep for the past three days now. How Fearless ever dealt with this with any amount of patience was beyond him, but he channeled his best Leo impression and walked to Don’s door.

Low and behold, the tall turtle was still sitting at his desk.

Raph couldn’t help a quick roll of his eyes as he entered. “Don, how many times I gotta tell ya—” He cut himself off as soon as he got close enough to hear the light snore whistling through the room. A grin split his lips as he rounded his brother’s shell to see him passed out in his chair, arms pillowed under his head, a half-drained cup of coffee beside the keyboard, a pencil precariously balancing on his slack fingers, his purple mask half raised on his face so it only covered one eye, and a small trail of spit drooling down his chin. Probably fell asleep mid equation.

Raph shook his head. Why is it smart people never take their own advice; how many times had Don lectured them about the importance of sleep for both body and mind?

Taking a moment to snap a quick photo (for future blackmailing purposes of course) Raph debated whether it was worth waking the night owl to get him to a proper bed. He’d probably just start working again, and Raph was too tired for an argument tonight.

Don coughed lightly, shifting his head on his arm as his brow furrowed in his sleep. Was he getting sick, too? All these late nights with nothing but coffee and pizza to sustain him, it wouldn’t really be surprising. And it’s not like Mikey was careful about not spreading germs. Chancing a brush of his brother’s forehead, Raph felt a definitive heat radiating under his hand.

“Dammit, Donnie.” He mumbled to himself.

Deciding it was too risky to wake him, Raph stomped over to the bed and yanked the blanket away to drape it over Don in his chair. Guess he wasn’t going to sleep much tonight, he’d be up checking on his idiot-genius brother every few hours. Maybe he should go get the thermometer to make sure the fever wasn’t—

“Leo…” Don was mumbling in his sleep. His frown suddenly deepened, his face twisting into a pained grimace before his eyes shot open and his body spiked upright quick as a lightning strike. “LEO!”

“Whoa, whoa, easy Don.” Raph calmed, waiting until his brother’s eyes focused a little more before continuing. “You alright?”

“Yeah…” Don puffed a few rapid breaths as his mind finished separating reality from specter. “Just a bad dream.” He took a final long exhale, releasing the rest of the fear from his eyes. Almost. There were still a few remnants that Raph could see.

“’Bout Leo?” When Don looked at him with surprise he explained. “You were talkin’ in your sleep.” He looked almost embarrassed, especially as he wiped the drool from his face, but Raph was still curious. “Why are you havin’ nightmares about Leo? You know something I don’t?”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that.” Don waved off. “I just… you know…” At Raph’s curious cock of his brow, Don sighed. “It’s been a long time since he’s been away like this. I’m not used to not having him around. My mind keeps concocting new ways that his mission could be going wrong and the terrible things that could be happening to him. I know—” He cut Raph off before he could interject. “—it’s not likely. I know he’s probably fine. I guess… I guess I just miss him.”

Raph couldn’t object to that. Though a few things were starting to add up now. “Is that why you’ve been staying up and working on projects?”

Don nodded timidly. “It’s easier to ignore the irrational fears when I’m focused on a project. And it has the added benefit of keeping me from sleep and therefore keeping me from dreaming. But I guess even my body has it’s limits when it comes to sleep deprivation.” He looked at his half-filled cup of coffee. “I must have fallen asleep while working on—” He paused, turning to eye Raph curiously. “Wait… I know why I’m up, but what are you doing awake? And in my room? And—?” He finally took note of the blanket around his shoulders that certainly hadn’t been there when he fell asleep. A coy, affectionate, smile crawled across his lips as he turned to his brother. “Were you checking up on me?”

Raph folded his arms to hide the embarrassment of being caught being protective. “I was just making sure you and your bed were still on speaking terms.”

“Wow. That’s… That’s so—”

“If you say ‘sweet’ I’m gonna put you to sleep the old fashioned way.”

Don chuckled lightly, raising a hand in surrender when his brother cracked his knuckles. “I was going to say that’s very Leo of you."

Huh. Raph wasn’t sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult. Before he had a chance to make up his mind, Don started coughing again. It was worse than when he’d been asleep, it sounded wet and heavy. “That’s it Egg-Head, time for you to rest that big brain of yours.”

Don gave no protest, rubbing his temples as his eyes started to ache. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

Raph waited for his brother to actually get in bed and under the covers. “If I come back here in a few hours and find you at your desk again—”

Don raised his hand in surrender once more. “I know, I know. I’ll sleep, I promise.”

True to his word, when Raph returned ten minutes later to check in, he found Don fast asleep in his bed, no lights on or books nearby to indicate he’d tried to continue working. Good. Raph nodded his approval before heading for the kitchen. Staying up this late made him hungry.

Quietly as possible—so as not to wake the endless food-pit that was his youngest brother—he heated up some leftover pizza and headed for the couch in the living room. If he was going to be up checking on Donnie in a few hours, may as well stay awake with a movie or something instead of trying to sleep. And wouldn’t you know it, there was a Rocky marathon on TV. Perfect.

But it didn’t take long before exhaustion set in. Despite his many demands that his eyes remain open, he passed out before the end of the first movie.

His senses slowly came back to him as his eyes opened before he told them to. How long had he been out? Groggy as he was, it took a minute to realize he’d been covered with a blanket and the television had been turned off. Who had—

A noise come from the med bay. Raph looked at the clock and sighed heavily. Don must be up and about again. How many times did he have to be told that four hours a night wasn’t enough sleep?

Cursing aloud, Raph rubbed the lethargy from his eyes and forced himself to stand, sluggishly stomping toward the med bay. “Dammit Don, I swear I will smother you with a pillow if you don’t get your shell back in—” He stopped short as he entered the room and was greeted by a different sibling.

“You’re up early.”

“Leo!?” His excitement caught him off guard and he wasn’t able to catch the smile that split his lips. “When did you get home!?”

“About half an hour ago.”

“Well why didn’t you say any—” As he stepped closer, Raph noticed the needle and thread in his brother’s hand. His arm was bleeding.

Leo was quick to reassure. “It’s just a scratch.”

But his words fell on deaf ears. ‘Just a scratch’ with Leo could mean anything from an actual scratch to a fatal stab wound. The blood was coming from the back of his left arm, right near the shoulder. Twist as he may, the older turtle was clearly having trouble reaching it. Raph huffed and walked over, grabbing the needle and thread and sitting on the stool behind his brother. “I got it.”

First making sure the cut wasn’t actually life threatening, Raph cleaned it and began sewing small stitches as he’d seen Donnie do many a time. “So who’s the lucky SOB that actually managed to cut ya?”

“A giant lizard creature with a heavy battle axe and a real bad temper."

Raph snorted a quick laugh. “You get to have all the fun.”

Leo quirked a smile. “How have things been here? The other two felt like they had fevers, are they sick?”

So big brother had already done the rounds and checked on everyone. That explained the blanket. “Mike’s on the mend, but I think Don’s caught it now. He’s been workin’ himself too hard.” With only a hint of accusation, Raph added. “He was worried about you. They both were.” From behind Raph couldn’t see his brother’s face, but the slight bow of his head meant the guilt was settling in. Good. He should feel bad. “You could have called.”

“Sorry.” Leo shrugged and reached behind his back to pull out his shell-cell, busted in at least three different places. “The Ancient One is great at many things, but fixing cell phones isn’t one of them.” He paused, glancing back at his brother over his shoulder. “Seems like you had everything under control though.”

“I don’t think you can use the word ‘control’ when Mikey’s involved.”

“I’m serious. I’m glad you were here. It’s…” He paused like he wasn’t sure he wanted to finish his thought, and when he spoke again his voice was much more somber. “It’s comforting to know you can handle things if something ever happened to me.”

That halted Raph in his tracks, his hands pausing as his eyes snapped up to his brother’s. “You in some kinda trouble that I should know about?”

“No.”

“Then what the shell is that kind of talk for?” It was putting Raph on edge and he didn’t like it.

Leo shook his head—humorously or in annoyance Raph couldn’t tell—and waved his brother off. “Just had a lot of time to think lately. That’s all. I was trying to pay you a compliment.”

“Well you suck at it.” But there was something his brother wasn’t saying, and Raph wasn’t sure he wanted to know what. With two more quick stitches, he cut the thread and placed a bandage over the wound. “Done.”

“Thanks.” Leo gave an experimental roll of his shoulder, testing the feel of it with stitches now in place. He gathered his weapons and headed for the door.

“Hey.” Raph waited till his brother’s shell was to him before speaking. “I got them.” Leo turned, eyeing Raph curiously as he continued. “Not that it’ll ever be necessary because we all know you’re harder to kill than a cockroach on steroids, but if it ever did—I mean if something ever happened—" He paused awkwardly, rolling his eyes at himself and this whole ridiculous conversation. “I got them.”

There was a long moment of silence, like Leo wasn’t sure how to reply, which only made Raph feel like more of an idiot. But his brother suddenly stretched his hand out expectantly, his eyes intensely serious. “Promise?”

Raph returned the look with one of his own, taking his brother’s hand with a good firm grip. “Yeah.”

And then Leo smiled and Raph had no idea why but it made him feel instantly proud of himself. How did he do that?

That was big brother for you.

A whine from down the hall snaked it’s way into the room, and both siblings easily recognized Mikey’s voice crying out for Raph. The red-banded turtle shrugged his shoulders emphatically and began walking away. “He’s your problem now, Fearless. Welcome home.”

Leo chuckled lightly. “No place like it.”

It's been a year now since we buried him. A year since he was placed in that peaceful spot by the trees. A year since that rock became the last marker of his life.

Feels like decades. Feels like yesterday.

Being that this is our first "vacation" up here without him, we're all a little wary as we step out of the truck. It's not as heavy as it was when we came up to burry him, or when we visited six months ago after my run-in with Hun. But it still feels wrong.

Everything feels wrong without him.

I'm doing my best nowadays to not cause trouble, so I wait by the trailer and see what the others do. Mikey doesn't even hesitate, bounding over to the grave, shouting something about "saying hello" and pulling Don along with him. Splinter and April only smile as they follow, and Case shoots me a knowing shrug as he walks along with them.

I tell my legs to follow, but they suddenly feel like led.

It's not a big deal, it's just a grave. Ain't no different than talking to his picture back in the dojo.

But I... I can't move toward it.

Maybe it's talking to him around other people. Or talking to that cold stone instead of a picture. Or maybe it's knowing that his body is here, six feet under, decomposing and covered in worms and dirt and--STOP. I'm gonna make myself hurl if I don't change the subject.

A long, heavy sigh escapes me as I stare at the ground a moment longer.

Just a grave.

I force my legs to move.

By the time I'm finally able to meander over, Mikey is already yammering on about the drive up and everything that's been happening since that nightmare of a night. He says something about me, but I don't quite catch it. My focus is drawn elsewhere. One look at that stone, at the name etched in it, and I can feel old instincts returning. Old instincts to run from the pain. From the guilt. From everything.

Breathe through it. Splinter says to breathe and ground myself by remembering what I have to stay for.

I glance around at my family in front of me, eyeing each of them in turn and trying not to be distracted by the sadness that's sprinkled into their demeanor.

Running didn't solve anything. I ain't going down that road again. I couldn't do that to my family again. My eyes clock the name once—

A chill runs down my spine as I freeze in place, staring at the watery puddle of red that’s slowly crawling towards me.

Leo’s staring at his stomach. There’s blood dripping down his fingers.

“Leo—!"

“…M’Sorry.”

Suddenly I'm back on that roof, with the rain on my shell, the blood on my hands, and Leo's cold body laying still in my arms.

Panic rises with the instant intensity of an erupting volcano. My fingers curl into my palms and dig into my skin, my eyes snap shut--as if closing them will take away memory--and it's all I can do to hold my breath so I don't scream.

No. No, breathe. Sensei says breathe through it. Don't block it out, but don't let it take over. Just breathe.

"Raph?"

Damn. Mikey noticed. I open my eyes to see everyone staring at me with the same concern on their faces they've been suffocating me with all year. I'm glad they're here, I don't want to block them out like I did before, but damn what I wouldn't give to go a day—just one day!—without making them all look at me like that.

"You okay?" Mikey finally asks. "Was it something I said?"

"Just enjoying the fresh air." I breathe deep again, a little more dramatically to really sell my next quip. "Six hours in a windowless trailer with your B.O was making me dizzy."

That seems to abate their worry. When in doubt, insult Mikey. Works every time.

"Why don't I go make us some dinner?" Casey changes the subject abruptly. "I've been itchin' to use the barbecue out here, it makes the best hot dogs you ever ate!"

"No pizza?"

"There are other foods, Mikey." April adds with a twinge of a giggle.

The conversation drifts off as they all head back to the cabin, leaving only me and Don at the grave.

I cast a glance at my younger brother, watching closely as he kneels before the stone. There’s a somberness in his movements that goes beyond grief, stretching to something dangerously close to guilt. I should know.

"Leo..." He kneels down and looks at the stone, running his hand along the carved katakana.

He's still grieving. I mean, we all are, but Don most of all. He's been so busy worrying about everyone else--about me, mostly--I think he's forgotten to deal with his own pain.

Sounds like another brother I know.

"You okay?" He asks as he stands up, looking me over like he's trying to get a bead on where my head is at.

I fold my arms in front of me and meet his eyes with a stern look of my own. "Yeah. You?"

"Just tired from the trip." He's a terrible liar. "Are you coming inside?"

"Not yet."

He pauses, worry jumping into his features faster than a lightning strike. "You want some company? I don't mind staying out a bit longer."

"Nah." I try to sound as casual as I can. "You better go inside and make sure Case doesn't set the joint on fire." He remains still, flitting between looking at me and the grave, clearly unconvinced I'm as chill as I say. So I make eye contact and add emphatically, "I'm fine, Don. Just got a few things I want to say. Alone."

That was what he needed. "Okay." He's still reluctant, but he heads towards the house.

Shit, I should say--"Don," He stops far too quickly, like he was hoping for me to ask him to stay. I don't turn to look at him, but I make sure he can hear me. "I'm... I'm here for you too, you know. If you need to talk... or something... I'm here."

I can almost hear the smile that creeps across his face at my bumbling attempt to comfort, but before he walks away I hear a surprisingly sincere "thanks Raph" roll over his shoulder.

Well, I said something. No idea if he'll actually follow through, but I guess so long as he knows... that's enough, right?

I sigh heavily again.

I’ll check in with him later.

“Slowly. Take it slowly. One step at a time.”

I breathe deep, tapping down the annoyance flaring in my chest as I focus on my slow and pitiful walk up the stairs. I know Don’s just worried I’ll push too hard and tear my stiches open, but he’s got to realize how condescending he’s being.

Not that I’ll say anything about it. I ain’t got no right. Not after what I put him through. All of ‘em.

“You sure you don’t want someone to carry you? Casey’d probably do it if you asked.”

I might have actually cracked a smile at that one if Mike’s voice didn’t sound so forcefully happy. He’s afraid he’ll say something that’ll make me run off again. Can’t blame him.

My side burns as I make the third step, but my grimace isn’t from the pain.

I hate this. They’re so worried about losing me, they don’t see it anymore. Don’t see my guilt. Don’t see my shame. Too worried about keeping me healthy or making me smile.

And I don’t deserve any of it.

I keep trying to tell them. For five days now I’ve spent every waking minute trying to work up the courage to tell ‘em the truth. Tell ‘em what really happened.

Tell ‘em why our brother is dead.

But I can’t do it. The thought of Mikey’s eyes filled with hurt and hatred, the memory of Don screaming at me in pained anger… I just can’t do it. I can’t hurt them anymore.

I can’t lose them. They deserve to know but—

“Dee, he’s bleeding!”

I don’t even get the chance to register Mike’s words before Don is examining my side and stopping my march up the stairs.

“He popped a stitch. See, I told you it was too soon to be moving! It’s only been five days, you should be bed-ridden for at least another nine! Come on, let’s get you back in—”

“Donatello, calm.”

Sensei mercifully steps in.

“It is only one stitch. Your brother will be more comfortable—and therefore more likely to rest—in his own bed. It is not much farther.”

“But—”

“We’re basically half way there, Dee. It’d take just as long to go back.”

I wait as patiently as I can as the three talk, keeping my mouth shut on the matter. I’d prefer my own bed, sure. But I ain’t gonna kick up a fuss about it.

“Fine. Just—”

“Slow. He’s got it, Dee.”

I see Don shoot Mikey an annoyed glare, which makes him grin. A real grin.

It’s almost like it’s possible for things to get back to normal around here.

By the time we finally make it up the stairs, I’m already exhausted. Donnie was right, my body ain’t ready for movement yet. I only make it a few more feet before I need to take a break and catch my breath. Don doesn’t miss a beat.

“See, he’s already tired. He shouldn’t be up and moving yet!”

“Dude, we’re like five feet from his room. I think he can make it five feet.”

They continue to squabble and I’m losing patience by the second. But just as I’m about to butt in, my eye catches sight of the door we’re stopped in front of.

Perfectly made bed, books alphabetized and orderly, and the smell of incense drifting through the air.

Leo’s room. Exactly as he left it. They haven’t touched a thing…

“Raphael.”

Sensei’s gentle voice catches the attention of my brothers, and I assume they notice the room too because everyone is suddenly silent. Solemn. Still.

Leo…

“Come on.” Don clears his throat as he touches my shell. “Almost there."

No one says another word.

Alone in the grass at last, I take a moment to look at the sunset. It ain't no New York skyline, but it sure ain't ugly either. I suppose I can see the merit in watching a good sunset across the trees.

Leo always preferred sunrises, I think. He liked the fresh start of a new day.

I close my eyes and enjoy the fresh air around me, but it isn’t long before my gaze is pulled back to that grave. To that name that I’ll probably never be able to say without a sharp twinge in my chest.

“Leo...”

I breathe out the pain like stretching a sore muscle and try again to settle myself. I shouldn’t just stand here, they’ll worry.

“There’s… there’s some stuff I want to say. Stuff I… I probably should’ve said when you were…”

The past tense pulls me up short. I hate talking about him like he’s gone. It makes it all too real.

But it is real. And I need to start accepting that.

Just gotta say it and get it over with. “Look… I just want you to know that… that I don’t hate you. I could never. You pissed me off sometimes—a lot of the time—but it’s only because I hated that you never trusted me to take care of myself. I hated that you felt I wasn’t enough on my own. And more than anything I hated…” I don’t know who this is harder to admit to, him or me. “I hated that I could never be like you. I was never gonna be Sensei’s perfect student, or the ancient one’s protégé, or even the guy that Mikey and Donnie look up to. It made me feel inadequate. Like I wasn’t good enough. But it never meant that I hated you. I shouldn’t have—"

“I don’t need anything! I don’t need your orders! I don’t need your leadership! I DON’T NEED YOU!”

I shake my head and try to let the memory roll off my shell. This moment isn’t about my guilt, I got the rest of my life to wrestle with that. This is about saying what I never did. About telling him the truth.

“I love you, Leo. You were… are… a good leader. And an even better brother. And I…” Tears are stinging the edge of my eyes as an ache sits on my chest and makes it difficult to breathe. “I miss you. A lot. I—”

“Tell them…”

No. No, we ain’t doin’ this now! “Leo—!”

“…M’Sorry.” He whispers something haltingly with the last of his breath but I’m panicking too much to really let it sink it.

Dammit, dammit, dammit!

“Don’t you—” But his eyes close and his hand falls to the ground and I realize it wasn’t his hand that was shaking, it was mine. The rain seems to freeze in it’s downpour as suddenly everything goes completely silent. Still.

Empty.

I feel the last of his breath escape through my hands on his stomach and the ache in my chest turns to intense pain. I close my eyes to it, focusing on calming the quake of my legs, but the memory floods my every sense without warrant.

A chill runs down my spine as I freeze in place, staring at the watery puddle of red that’s slowly crawling towards me. For a minute, my vision blurs. Everything seems to shut down as I slowly look up, tracking the blood to it’s source.

Leo’s staring down at his hand by his stomach, eyes wide.

There’s blood dripping down his fingers.

It can’t be… there’s no way… “Leo?”

“Leonardo!”

Dammit! Breathe. Just breathe through it. Don’t stop the pain but don’t let it take over.

I give in to the shaking of my legs and fall to a knee, clenching my fists tighter and sucking in a deep gulp of air to steady myself. When I finally find any measure of control, I reach forward and touch the stone as reverently as I know how, my face intensely serious. I want him to know I mean this. “I know I’m the one who caused this, but I ain’t gonna be selfish anymore. I made you a promise, and I ain’t gonna break it. Ever.”

The conversation bubbles to the surface, mercifully pushing aside all other memories for the moment. I cling to the reprieve as I swear my oath. “I got them. Mikey, Don, Sensei, all of them. I got them.”

And then Leo smiled and Raph had no idea why but it made him feel instantly proud of himself. How did he do that?

That was big brother for you.

The memory of his smile brings one to my face, albeit sad and full of regret. But it gives me the strength to speak again. To say something I’m not sure I feel yet, but I want him to know. “Thanks… for saving my ass back there. I owe you one.”

I choke on the last words and give in to the tears, letting myself grieve openly for the first time in a while. My hand stays on the grave, finding a small measure of connection to my brother that I cling to with fervor.

Damn, I miss him.

I wish he was—

“I wish you were here, Leo. I wish I hadn’t run off that night. I wish I’d seen the sniper or noticed the trap or stopped the bleeding. I wish you were—”

“Still here...”

The voice floats around me, nothing but a whisper outside my peripheral. It always will be from now on. A piece of my brother that’ll always remain just out of sight. Out of reach.

But still there. Always.

I close my eyes and let his voice surround me, let his presence—faint as it is—comfort the way only Leo knows how. The way only big brother can. He lends me his strength and I accept hungrily.  

Then I square my shoulders, wipe my eyes of any trace of tears, and stand. Time to step up.

“Thanks Fearless.”

The wind kicks up and blows leaves against my shoulder and I swear it feels like Leo’s signature shoulder-pat.

I smile.

I take one more long look at that name in the stone, let myself feel the weight of it on my shoulders, and then turn back to the house. Just in time too. Mikey comes boundin’ out the door shoutin’ something about turtle speed stereotypes that gets a humorous head shake from Don who emerges behind him.

We’ll be okay. For the first time in a year, I’m positive we’re gonna be okay. Not the same. Not ever. But okay. And that’s enough for me.

“Raph! Come ooooooooon!”

I sigh, hiding the smirk that tugs at my lips from hearing Mikey whine like a child. “Keep yer shell on, I’m comin’.”

I take a moment, looking at my family as they gather around the BBQ with smiles on their faces, and feel my oath etch itself into my very soul.

“Raph, don’t… shut them out. They’ll need…”

I got them, Leo. I swear.

I got them.

Chapter Text

He took off. Again. Even though I told him not to.

What is the point of being leader if I can’t get those following me to trust and obey the simplest of instructions?

I hear the grunts and groans of a fight from nearby and can’t stop the jolt of fear that bolts through my skin. I knew it. I knew this was a trap of some kind. Why else would these thugs leave the safety of their numbers to take off towards the inner city? And now they might have my brother in their claws.

“Raph!”

Finally finding the alley he’s in, I jump down, swords drawn, only to catch my brother just as he finishes punching the lights out of the last of a pile of Dragons, all now groaning at his feet in unconsciousness. A sigh of relief escapes me immediately; he’s not hurt. And if this was a trap, it was very poorly executed. Any one of us could have taken out these few stragglers on our own. Guess my gut was wrong.

That doesn’t excuse his actions. “Raph, what are you doing?”

“Couple of scrawny ones got away. Didn’t want them missing out on the fun.”

My relief is quickly fading into irritation at his unapologetic attitude. “I told you not to go after them. We were supposed to stay and check the warehouse.” I glance back at the pile of thugs behind him, eyeing them to make sure they’re all still deep in unconsciousness.

Something still feels off, but I can’t put my finger on what.

“Don’t get your shell in a bunch, I was gonna head back once they were taken care of.”

I shake my head, trying to refocus. I’m sure it’s nothing. “You shouldn’t have left. The dragons aren’t going to let us have their new weapons shipment without a fight. They’re probably sending reinforcements. We need to get back and help Don and Mikey.”

He’s rolling his eyes at me again, which means a fight isn’t far off. What on earth he has to be angry about this time is far beyond me, but I brace for the impact.

“I said I was gonna head back. If you’re so worried about it, why’d you leave those two to deal with it alone?”

“Because you took off!” I’m doing it again, I’m letting him annoy me into getting angry and I hate when he does that. So I try to regain some composure. “And I didn’t want you out here fighting alone.”

“I don’t need a babysitter, Leo! I can handle myself!”

I can see him start to clench his fists and I know this is only going to escalate before it dies, but we don’t have time for a full fledged feud right now. So I pull the leader card. “I told you not to go after them, Raph. It wasn’t a suggestion.”

The way his hands curl into a tighter fist as he freezes—looks like we’re not avoiding the fight. Great. Just great.

“Oh, I see what this is about. The Great Fearless Leader gave an order and the insignificant subordinate didn’t obey.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes. The dramatic inner monologue he must be telling himself is beyond my understanding. I want nothing more than to explain why his actions were rash and without thought—that none of this has anything to do with him, but everything to do with us as a team—but Mike and Don are on their own and the Dragons probably called for backup, so there’s no time to get into it right now.

Lucky for him. “We’re going back. Now.”

“Was that a suggestion?”

He’s getting under my skin and he knows it. Why does he so desperately want to fight me? We’re in the middle of a mission, can’t he at least wait till we get home and everyone is safely in the lair? My tone no longer brooks an argument, but I’m sure I’ll still get one. “No. It wasn’t.”

“Screw you, Leo!”

And here we go.

“I’m not some lacky you can order around with the flick of a wrist!”

“I never said you were a lacky.”

“Yet you get pissed every time I don’t ask ‘how high’ whenever you tell me to jump!”

Not this again. “I’m the leader, Raph. It’s my job to give the orders!” And I don’t understand why he hates me for it.

“And don’t you just love pointing that out every chance you get.”

Oh for crying out—“We don’t have time for this.”

“No, of course not! There’s only ever time to berate your brothers, not explain your actions.”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you!” I shout in his face before I can catch it. Shell, how is he always so good at getting me worked up enough to lose control? His eyes turn dark and I honestly can’t tell if he’s upset at what I said or smug that he finally got a rise out of me.

And something about all this still feels off.

“So that’s how it is, huh? The Great Leonardo knows all and doesn’t need to waste time explaining himself to the rest of us mere mortals.”

I hold in a sigh and try to explain. “That’s not what I—” but he’s in too much of a mood to let me finish.

“That’s exactly what you meant!”

He steps in closer, to be in intimidating I suppose. Or to make me see his anger up close. Either way, I stand my ground and let him talk. He clearly needs to let off some steam, so if it’ll get him to come along faster, I suppose I can stand and take it for a minute.

“That’s what you’re always about, isn’t it? Proving that you’re better than everybody else, that you’re smarter, stronger, and faster than everyone!”

Hurtful, but nothing new. I am fully aware of how much contempt my brother holds for me.

“And God forbid someone actually tries to measure up, you gotta knock ‘em down a peg to make yourself feel better!”

Now that… that was unexpected. I make sure to hide my surprise (and maybe a little hurt) behind my mask, taking a moment to keep my voice even. I should just let it go. We have to get back.

“You think you don’t measure up?”

He stops and I can instantly see the walls forming around him. He didn’t mean to say it, apparently.

“Where the hell did that come from!?”

And now he’s playing denial, which means I definitely wasn’t supposed to hear it. “You said ‘God forbid someone actually tries to measure up’, I assume you were talking about yourself.” I wait for a response, but when he offers none, I can’t help but nudge again. “You don’t think you measure up?”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Then what—”

“I meant that you’re a selfish asshole and I’m done talkin’ about this.”

He starts up the building just as a droplet of rain hits my shell, but I’m still trying to understand what he just confessed so I barely notice the weather. I follow quickly. I know I should drop it, I know. “Raph wait—”

“I said I ain’t talkin’ about it no more! Back off Leo!”

But I don’t want him to think— "It has nothing to do with skill level, it’s about strategy. You left Mikey and Donnie wide open to attack.” But that’s not what I’m trying to say. How do I explain this? “We’re a team, Raph. We need to work together.”

He’s still walking away.

“Are you listening to me?” How do I make him understand? “You can’t go off grandstanding every time you dislike an order.” It’s not safe. How do I make him understand that I need him to be safe. “Raph, you need to—”

He turns on me with an anger in his eyes I’m not sure I’ve seen before. It makes me stop in my tracks. But I’m immediately distracted as a ghost of a feeling washes over every nerve in my body.

“I don’t need anything!”

Something is wrong. Something… I catch a wisp of movement out of the corner of my eye.

“I don’t need your orders!”

There. On the adjacent roof. Can’t look and give away that I’ve spotted him. But there’s a glint of something in his hands.

“I don’t need your leadership!"

A gun. Sniper. No…

NO!

“I DON’T NEED YOU!”

“RAPH!”

My body jolts into action out of shear panic, ramming my shoulder into Raph’s side to push him as far away as I can. There’s an impossibly loud crack in the air as the weapon goes off.

No time to think.

Without stopping my momentum from shoving Raph, I step forward and spin on my heel, whipping my swords from their sheathes in one swift motion, and lance a katana towards the sniper with as much strength and speed as I possess, aiming right for his heart. It hits it’s mark, or slightly above it, and the Dragon is pinned to the chimney he must have been hiding behind.

It was a trap. I was right.

I should have listened to my instincts. Master Splinter is always telling me. Raph could have been shot because I wasn’t… because I wasn’t paying… Because I… I feel dizzy. The roof is spinning and I can’t make it stop. I grip my swords, trying to ground myself, but one hand isn’t on my sword, it’s on my stomach. There’s something warm running through it. I force my eyes to focus as I look down.

My hand is red.

I pull it from my plastron to see red oozing down my body.

I’m bleeding. Why am I bleeding?

Understanding comes impossibly slow as I stare at the red on my hand. I’ve been shot. Sniper managed to hit me. But was I fast enough to save—

“Leo?”

I turn enough to spot Raph staring at me with wide eyes. He looks shocked, but not injured. No blood that I can see. I close my eyes and breathe out the dread I’d been holding. At least he’s—

Pain suddenly erupts from my stomach, so abrupt and intense that I can’t get a handle on it. It fogs my vision and I can feel myself falling but I can’t seem to get my legs under me to catch myself.

A broad shoulder appears under my arm as my brother is now at my side, holding me up. “Leo!” My vision is still swimming too much to make out details, but the fear in his voice rings out crystal clear. I’d try to reassure him if I could speak around the pain. I feel him move my hand to get a look at the wound and I use the opportunity to breathe deep and refocus as best I can.

“It’s alright bro, I got you.”

My body accepts the invitation and leans heavily on him without my consent. I’m trying to get my legs under me, get the pain under control so I can talk. “There might be more.” I scan the rooftops around us quickly but don’t spot any other movement. Though my vision is still a bit blurry. “Check the perimeter, in case they—”

“Not a chance. I ain’t leavin’ you like this.”

I don’t argue, I don’t have the breath for it. And he’s right, I won’t last long bleeding the way I am. But if there’s another sniper around here, he’s leaving whether he wants to or not. I open my mouth to say as much as he lowers us to the ground when my lungs suddenly feel like they’re filled with water. The cough that follows is loud and wet, bringing the taste of copper to my lips and spilling down my chin.

This is bad.

I’m trying to tamp down the sting that fit caused when I catch a glimpse of Raph’s face; he looks terrified. I don’t think he’s trying to hide it, which is even more worrisome. He’s staring at the wound like it’s a nightmare come to life and I can’t think of a single thing to say in comfort.

I default to pragmatism. “Pressure.”

“What?”

I place my hand over his atop my stomach and press down. It takes much more effort than I expected to keep from screaming at the pain, but I manage, keeping my calm as best I can. “Keep… pressure.” My voice is giving me away. “Stop the bleeding.”

He seems to pause a moment before replying with a curt “I know” and pressing harder. I’m actually relieved to hear that tone in his voice.

My head is swimming again and I can’t tell if the world is spinning or I am.

Focus. Finish the mission. We need to get back to the others, make sure they’re okay. The Dragons might have set a trap there too, counting on us to split up.

“The warehouse… Mikey and Don—” more copper taste, but this time it’s harder to expel. I have to turn on my side so I don’t choke on my own blood.

Raph holds me steady as I find air again. “I know.”

He needs to check on them. “Raph—" 

“Just shut up and save your breath, Fearless.” I don’t know why, but the name helps ground me a moment. “I’ll give ‘em a call, alright?”

Good. That’s good. I’d still prefer he go to the warehouse himself, but this is the next best thing. As he’s distracted with the phone, I allow myself a moment to grimace as another wave of pain washes over me. It’s getting duller… Probably means I’m getting numb. Or going into shock. Neither one is reassuring.

I’ll be okay. I have to be okay. I will not leave until I know my brothers are safe. I can’t.

I might not have a choice. 

I inhale slowly. Exhale. Forcing that last thought away with focused breaths as Raph continues to fiddle with the phone. He hangs up and redials a few times, and with each passing minute I can feel my fear rising. Something’s happened at the warehouse, I’m sure of it. My gut may be spilling onto the roof, but it’s still insistent as ever.

Raph needs to go. I’m about to say as much when he finally speaks.

“Yeah Don. It’s—”

I can’t hear the other end of the conversation, but I can tell by Raph’s face that it’s not good.

“Don, what’s going—”

He’s cut off again.

“Yeah. Don he’s—”

I hear a muffled shout and don’t need to hear the words to know Donnie’s upset.

“He’s been shot.”

I hear a cry come through the speaker and my whole body tenses.

“Don?”

Something’s happened. We’re leaving. Now. But the minute I lift my head to stand, everything in me goes weak. I can barely move, there’s no way I’d be able to walk, let alone fight. But we have to do something. I grab Raph’s arm so he’ll look at me. The angry worry in his face speaks volumes.

“Don? Don, you there?”

A desperate fear seizes my body that makes me want to hurl. What if he’s—

“What the shell, Brainiac—”

He’s okay. Don’s okay. Relief swells through me with such force, I lose the rest of the conversation. Raph hangs up the phone and faces me again, the worry gone from his face but not his eyes. He was never good at hiding his emotions. Disguising them behind anger, sure, but not hiding them away.

“They’re on their way.”

“Are they—”

“—Fine. Just taking care of a few unexpected stragglers.”

I know he’s lying. They’re in trouble. And I’m too weak to do anything about it. But Raph could still help. If I can just convince him to leave me here…

“Don’t even think it.”

He knew what I would ask. I’m unexpectedly flattered that he knows me so well. But then he must know I’m right. “They need help.” I’m about as close to begging as I’ve ever come, but Raph is focused on my wound.

“I ain’t leavin’ Leo. I leave, you bleed out.”

He’s not wrong, but that’s not the point. Another wave of pain crashes through me as I try to keep my wits. I look up to where the sniper lies motionless, fear creeping under my skin. “…What if…”

He catches my meaning and immediately jumps into denial. “They can handle themselves. Besides, what force in the universe has ever been able to pin Mikey down when he’s all hyped up?”

I smile, not only because the memories conjured are pure hilarity, but also because I can see the fear abate from Raph’s eyes momentarily. Making jokes at Mikey’s expense always seems to help him—

My body is suddenly lurching, everything in me working far too hard to expel whatever it is that’s blocking my lungs. The movement is painful, my throat feels scraped raw, but I close my eyes so Raph can’t see. I don’t want to scare him any more than I have.

As the cough subsides, Raph has turned his gaze away—nowhere particular, just anywhere that isn’t on me—and I use the opportunity to let my walls down a moment. It takes effort to keep them up, to pretend like I’m not worried and the pain is manageable, and I’m starting to feel exhaustion creep in. It’s falling on me slowly, like molasses dripping from a spoon, heavy and thick and I don’t know how long I can keep it at bay.

I should talk. Keep my brain active. But Raph’s fallen silent and I don’t want to say anything that’ll start another fight. If these are my last moments with him, I don’t want them to be filled with tension. I don’t want to make him feel inferior.

“That’s what you’re always about, isn’t it? Proving that you’re better than everyone else.”

I never meant to make him feel that way. Am I really like that? Do I build myself up by tearing the others down? I don’t try to…

“And God forbid someone actually tries to measure up, you gotta knock ‘em down a peg to make yourself feel better!”

I wish I could tell him I’m sorry. That it wasn’t like that. That the truth was—but he’d never believe me. He’d get angry and we’d fight and I can’t let our last interaction be a—

No. No, stop that. Stop thinking like that. The situation is bad, my wound is worse, but that doesn’t mean I won’t survive this. Pragmatism has it’s moments, but now is not the time. I need to believe that I’ll be okay. That I’ll be laughing about this next week. That this will just be another one of those crazy stories to add to our long roster of ‘times where we almost died’.

I’m going to be alright. I have to be. I have to—

“Hey.”

My eyelids snap apart like being startled from a dream. I hadn’t even realized they were starting to close. I turn to look at Raph who’s face is impassive.

“Keep them baby blues open, Leo. If you pass out, I ain’t givin’ you CPR.”

His voice is a comfort. His wry comment even more so. “Duly noted.” How long have I been dazed? Mikey and Donnie… where are Mikey and Donnie? They should be here by now, shouldn’t they?

What if they’re hurt? Or worse?

“They’ll be here soon.”

His words wipe away the panic, but not the worry. If we had any amount of cloth to make a torniquet, I could at least hobble at Raph’s side and head toward the warehouse. Should have asked Don for—

Pain erupts from my stomach without warning. My body is suddenly quaking everywhere and the movement feels like it’s tearing me apart. Gotta focus. Don’t scream. Don’t... But as the seconds pass, the pain dissipates. Everything does. I can’t feel myself anymore. I’m still shaking, I’m sure of it, but it feels distant. Like feeling an echo.

Darkness surrounds me, and I don’t think it’s because my eyes are closed. I think… I think I might be dying. Or already dead?

“Leo?”

No. I can hear Raph’s voice, so I can’t be dead. But I can’t open my eyes. Everything is heavy. Weighed down. And I’m too tired to fight it.

Focus, Leo. Fight the fatigue. I can’t abandon my family like this. Not till I know they’re safe.

Not till Raph knows I—

“Leo!”

He’s shouting again. Scared. Have to wake up. Focus on his voice. Focus.

“Leo!”

Breathe!

“S-Still here.” I manage to croak out as I finally suck in some oxygen. I can feel my body again.

“Don’t do that!”

He sounds more scared than angry, and I suddenly feel the urge to wrap him in a hug. Where did that come from? Hugging him would probably be as bad as trying to talk. I don’t know what it is, but for some reason, Raph and I are rarely able to connect. To understand each other. Every time I try to explain myself, it somehow always devolves into a fight.

I wish I knew how to tell him. I wish I could find a way around his defences to show him that I don’t look down on him. I really don’t. At least, not on purpose. I’m too busy admiring his strengths to focus on his faults.

Alright, maybe I focus on his faults from time to time. But it’s not because I’m trying to hurt him. It’s because I want him to be better. Better than me.

And more than anything, I want him to be safe. He thinks that nights like tonight are me trying to coddle him or prove he’s not worthy. But it has nothing to do with him. It’s me. It’s always been me.

My eyes feel heavy and my legs are completely numb. Maybe I should say something… just in case.

“I know.”

I don’t see his face, but his tone is confused enough. “What?”

“I know… you don’t need me.”

His defences rise immediately, I can practically see the wall forming between us. But I have to say this. He has to know.

“You still… don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

There’s that anger. Present but restrained. Maybe he’ll hear me this time.

“That it’s not—” another sharp shot of pain ricochets through my body. I draw in a breath and hold in the cry before I continue. “…that I—” But I barely get a word out before the cough follows. I’m losing this battle. But I need to tell him. I need him to know. 

Just… just let me get through this.

“Raph…”

“Save the lecture for after we get home.”

His voice is commanding. Stubborn. But I can hear that undercurrent of fear running through it. Same thing that’s clouding his eyes. I want to comfort, to take the fear away, but my lungs aren’t cooperating. They’re panicking at the sudden lack of oxygen.

Calm. Breathe. Inhale slow. Exhale slow. Inhale. Exhale. Find a rhythm.

My lungs finally relax, but my mind is still racing. I should try again. Tell him again. He needs to know.

 I need you. That’s what I’m trying to say. I need you.

Every time he runs off, half-cocked and fist first, I feel like I’ve lost my balance. Like a part of me is missing. And every time he gets hurt because of it, it feels like that part won’t come back. I’m always so terrified of losing him that I forget how good he is on his own. How well he adapts to being alone.

How little he really—

“I DON’T NEED YOU!”

He’s right. And thinking about it now, it makes me feel almost… proud. Why have I never thought of it this way before? Or maybe I did I just didn’t want to admit—

“Donnie!”

My eyes snap taught as I’m once again brought back to my senses. I search around for our younger brothers until I see the phone to Raph’s ear. At least they’re calling, means they’re still alive.

Raph shouts into the phone and I can see his hand shaking. Is that rage, worry, or fatigue? Or a mixture of all three? I try to catch his eyeline so I can ask how the others are, but one glance and he knows what I’m thinking.

“You guys alright?” He pauses and my gut is suddenly twisting in knots. “Mikey?”

Not Donnie? Did something happen to him? I try to hear the other end of the conversation but my senses are too dull to make anything out. Raph must have been thinking the same thing because he asks for me.

“Where’s Don?” 

He’s turned away so I can’t see his face, but his body doesn’t tense in any way, so I can only assume that means they’re alright. If they weren’t, Raph’s musculature would betray his worry, like it always does. His body tenses and flexes a lot when he’s worried. And angry. And—

“He’s what!? You…”

The voice on the phone gets lost in the rain, but I heard those first words loud and clear. They hadn’t told Mikey. Probably to keep him moving and not panicking. Smart move, Don. I suddenly wish I could take the cell and speak with my baby brother. I want to tell him it’s all going to be alright. That there’s no need to be afraid. That I’m okay, or will be once we get back home. If I make it back home…

I might not make it home.

I just want to hear his voice one more time.

Raph is facing me again, staring at my stomach. Or rather glaring at it. “No.” he says in reply to some question on the phone, I assume. “He’s still awake and talking, but his speech is gettin’ slow.”

Is it? I hadn’t noticed.

He must be talking to Don now, Mikey wouldn’t ask those kinds of questions. Or wouldn’t know what to do with the answers, anyway. He’d be more focused… more focused on…

Shell, I’m tired.

Don’t think about it. Don’t fixate on the fatigue. Keep the mind busy. 

I focus on Raph who is putting the phone on the ground. Did they hang up already? Is everyone alright? …Did I not ask that out loud? Try again. Breathe. Speak.

“They… Okay?”

But my voice is so small, I don’t think he hears me. His hand is on my neck—I think, I can’t feel it at all—checking for a pulse. Right. Probably should have been doing that this whole time. Wasn’t thinking.

“Weak and slow.” He pauses before I see his patience leave him. “Get here and see for yourself!” I blink slowly and somehow miss whatever else is said as he hangs up. “They’re alright. On their way now.”

I finally catch his eyes and see it plain as day on his face: he’s scared. For me. Worried for me. I know how stupid it sounds, but I can’t help feeling… treasured. He doesn’t want me to leave.

“I DON’T NEED YOU!”

I know he didn’t mean it. I barely heard it through my own dread when I noticed the sniper. Or maybe I was ignoring it purposefully because it hurt. But I know he didn’t mean it. I know my brother loves me. He never says it—that’s not his way—but he shows it often enough.

I hope I do too. I hope he knows how much I love him. Respect him. No matter what else we are to each other—leader, subordinate, rival—he’s my younger brother and I love him so much.

I’d be nothing without him. Without all three of them.

Mikey. Donnie. They’re not gonna make it. I’m fading too fast. I’m trying—I refuse to give up—but I don’t have a choice anymore. My body is failing me and there’s nothing I can do to fix it.

Memories of the three of them dance before me unprompted. I don’t stop it. I want to see them one last time. I want to see Mikey’s smile. I want to see Don’s “thinking” face. I want to tell them how much I’m going to miss them. How much they mean to me.

This is going to be so hard for them. All three of them. Mikey will cry. A lot. Don will too, but he’ll do it in silence. Secluded, so the others don’t see. And Raph… Raph will blame himself. He’ll think this is all his fault. No, he has to know it’s not. It was mine. I didn’t see the sniper in time.

He’ll lock himself away. We all know how he copes with pain. But he can’t do that this time. Mike and Don, they’ll need him to get through this. April and Casey can probably manage with each other, and Sensei can get through anything, but Mike and Don… they’ll need him.

I’m out of time. One last order from your older brother. One last desperate plea.

“Raph… Don’t—” Another cough interrupts me, more blood sliding through my lips. “Don’t… shut them out. They’ll need…” My voice trails off because it’s too much effort to keep talking. But I’m sure he understands. He’s got them. He’ll take care of everyone.

“I got them. If something ever happened… I got them.”

I trust him.

“What are you—?”

Our eyes meet and I try to offer as comforting a smile as I can. Everything is fading away. Like rippling water that dissipates in the distance. But it’s okay. Mikey and Donnie are safe. Raph will take care of them. They’ll be alright without me. I’m certain of it.

“Leo, don’t you dare!” He knows. He can see it too. “Keep your eyes open!”

“…Trying…” I really am. I don’t want to go. I don’t want one lapse in focus to be the reason I’m gone. I don’t want to put my family through this. 

I don’t want to die at all.

“Well try harder! Since when do you back away from a fight!?”

But at least I’m not alone. I know it’s selfish, Raph would be much better off if he didn’t have to watch me go, but I don’t want to be alone. I want him here. So I can tell him.

I try to speak but the sound doesn’t come. It’s too much effort. Too much breath. Try again. I close my eyes to gather my strength. One last movement. Just let me say one last thing.

“I said keep ‘em open, dam—”

I manage to place my numb hand on his over my stomach, and I can tell it’s still shaking.

It’s okay, brother. It’s okay. Everything will be alright. “Tell them…” All of them. Dad, April, Casey.

“Leo—!”

“…M’Sorry.” For failing you. For leaving. For all of it.

“I’m… so…proud”  Truly. They are everything I wish I was, everything I could never be.

I love them so much.

I try to say it. I try to form the words. But my breath has left my body and no more air is coming to replace it. The darkness at the edge of my vision closes in. A sudden panic rises in my chest and spikes through my entire being.

No! No, I don’t want to go! I don’t want to be alone! I don’t want to lose them! Please!

Please…

I feel warm. Tranquil. Like meditating with Sensei.

Let me…

The darkness is gone. So is the panic.

Stay…

My brothers. My family. I can feel them…

With…

Still with them. Still connected.

“S-Still here…”

Chapter Text

“Raphael.”

That snaps him back. His eyes spring open and he gasps like he’s been holding his breath. He looks confused and… scared? The nerves on the back of my neck perk up immediately. Raph never lets his fear show so openly. Whatever’s happening right now is serious.  

“Leo?”

“You alright?” I try not to coddle, not wanting to make the situation worse. But the way his voice sounds—so lost and frightened—is freaking me out. I actually wish he’d go back to shouting at me instead.  

“What… What happened?”

He still looks like he’s about to collapse so I lead him over to the bench and help lower him down—he doesn’t fight my assistance so now I know something is wrong. I make sure to keep my voice even as I explain. “You were in the middle of cussing me out for following you tonight when you suddenly stopped talking and closed your eyes. You looked like you were about to pass out.”

As I say it, I move quickly to check his eyes and forehead for signs of illness before he fully comes back to himself and pushes me away. “You don’t have a fever, but your eyes look a little red. Is it a headache?” I stand back slightly, fully expecting him to swipe my hand away and storm off or shout at me to stop worrying or something of an explosive nature. But he just keeps looking at me with wide, frightened eyes.

I can’t stand seeing that look on his face.

“Raph.” He doesn’t answer and my gut is getting twitchier with worry by the second. “Raphael.” His eyes move to my stomach, fear and pain from an unknown source plainly displayed for me to see. It scares me to see him like this. I don’t… I don’t know what to do. I want to help, but I don’t know what’s wrong. I’m about to go running for Sensei when something stops me dead in my tracks.

Tears start streaming down his face. He’s crying. Raph is crying. And I suddenly want to burn the world down to find whatever has done this to my brother.  

“Raph.”

I breathe deep to keep my own emotions in check as I kneel in front of him with a hand on each shoulder, giving a firm squeeze while I try to catch his eyeline. I don’t care if he’ll be angry, I just want him to know I’m here.

“Is there anything I can do?”

I don’t know what’s hurting him, but I do know Raph hasn’t cried in front of me since were kids. Whatever this is… I want to help. I have to—

“Why?”

His voice is broken. My chest clenches tighter at the sound of it. I try to be as calm and even as I can. “You’re crying.”

I don’t think he noticed. Still doesn’t seem to. He just stares at me, eyes piercing my own with their pain.

Without thought, I wrap my arms around him, pulling him close as if my embrace could leech the pain from him and onto me. It’s an instinct as old as we are. Older brother instinct to hold onto him as tight as possible until the fear goes away. “I’m here, bro. Whatever’s going on… I’m here.” I squeeze a little tighter, more for my own desperation than his. “I’ve got you.”

His body starts shaking.

“Dammit, Leo…”

I hold firm, pulling him closer. 

“Dammit Leo!”

I don’t know what else to do!

“Dammit! LEO—”

“I’m here, Raph!” I’m shouting now too, my own desperation slipping into my voice because I’m suddenly certain that if I let go I’ll lose my brother forever. I squeeze even tighter as my voice tries to reach through his pain. “I’ve got you.”

It was like strings on a marionette suddenly snapping; his arms shoot out like being annexed from a cannon, wrapping around me with enough intensity to match my hold and then some. He buries his face in my shoulder and silently sobs, and it’s all I can do to keep from tearing up myself.

I can’t remember ever seeing Raph like this since passing out of childhood. And I’m terrified at how powerless I am to help him.

So I just hold on, hoping that whatever has broken him, I can keep him together.

Suddenly there’s something in front of me. An apparition of my brother, or an echo or faint copy. He’s still in my arms, still clinging to me for dear life and crying into my shoulder. But his figment is also there. Staring at me with wide, frightened eyes.

No, not frightened. Daunted. He looks at me as though I’ve betrayed him; so much pain and horror in his eyes that it rattles my very soul.

“LEO! NO!”

He reaches for me, but before I can attempt to reach back, he’s gone. Disappears like smoke in the wind.

The silence of the room is crushing. I don’t understand what’s going on. I hold my brother tight, afraid he’ll disappear too. Whatever this is, whatever is happening, I won’t let it take him.

“Raph,” I place a hand on the back of his head, still refusing to release my other arm from around his shell. “Talk to me. Tell me how I can help. Please.”

The door to the dojo is abruptly flung open loudly and without care. I turn instinctively, placing myself between my brother and the entrance, still holding him close. My hand moves from his head to my katana—why? We’re at home, there’s nothing I should be afraid of. But Raph is crying and I can’t help him and none of this makes sense!—but my panic fades when I see who steps into the doorway.

“Sensei?”

“My son!” Even from afar I can see the fear in his eyes. Had he seen the apparition of Raph too?

“Sensei, I don’t know what happened. He just suddenly—”

But our father isn’t staring at Raph, he’s staring at me. The same mixture of terror and anguish in his features that Raph has.

A frightening sense of dread starts to crawl up my shell unbidden.

“…Sensei? Are you alright?”

He stares a moment longer, reaching up and cupping my face with his hand. The tender gesture coupled with the tear that leaks from the corner of his eye only deepens my worry.

“Leonardo…” He pauses, finally noticing the concern on my face, and takes a moment to compose himself, clearly tamping down some strong emotions. “Are you alright, my son?”

I’m not entirely sure how to answer that. “…Hai, Sensei. I’m fine. But…” I look down to Raph, still clinging to me tightly with his eyes sealed shut and fully closed off to the world around him. I haven’t the first clue how to explain this. “Raph just—I don’t know what happened but he…” But Sensei is still focused on me and I can’t stand that look of terror in his eyes. “Dad, please… What’s wrong?”

I need to know what’s happening. I need to know how to protect my family.

“I… I am not entirely certain.” He speaks slowly, processing as he goes. “I was reading, when I felt a pain appear from nowhere. A gaping hole in my spirit that I have only known once before… when I lost my family.” His face wears his pain plainly.

“I don’t understand.”

“You were gone, my son.” He looks me in the eyes, an intensity I can’t name shimmering brightly as he speaks. “I cannot explain it, but I knew for certain that you were no longer of this world. You had left us. It was so potent, so real…”

He reaches again to cup my cheek, and all I can do is stare with wide confused eyes.  

“I am just so grateful I was wrong. You are still here, still—”

“I’m fine, Sensei.” I’m trying to be as reassuring as possible because I know he wouldn’t act like this for no reason, but it’s so strange to be in this kind of spotlight. And I’m really not the one he should be worried about right now. I look down at Raph again and Splinter finally follows my gaze.

He breathes deep, placing a hand on Raph’s shell. “My son, did you feel as I did? That something had happened to Leonardo?”

But Raph is either unwilling or unable to answer.

I pull him in a little tighter. “We were talking and he suddenly stopped and… He looked like he was about to pass out.”

I’m not explaining this right. There was so much more to it. But I don’t want to betray his trust by blabbing to our father that he’d been sobbing like a frightened child.

“Raphael…” Good, he’s got his comforting tone that can pierce through anything. ”My son, please… can you tell me what has happened?”

Silence falls, thick with worry. But Sensei sits with pure patience, his hand rubbing soft circles on Raph’s shell to let him know he’s here and willing to wait as long as necessary.

Meanwhile I’m quietly going out of my mind.

Raph is still clinging to me like if he lets go he’ll die, his body is still quaking, and there are remnants of tears trickling down his cheeks. And every second that passes without helping him, without doing something to take away his pain, is rapidly eating away at me.

There has to be something I can—

But I know my brother well. I know if I try to force him to open up, he’ll close off even more. Like Sensei is doing, we have to let him come to us on his own terms, in his own time. So I keep my desperation to myself, keep my hands firmly clamped around him so he knows I’m not going anywhere, and silently pray for this all to be over soon.

I’ll happily listen to him cuss me out again if it just means he’s okay.

I focus on my breathing, keeping it calm and steady so Raph can’t tell I’m silently panicking. Though I’m pretty sure Sensei is picking up on it. His eyes meet mine again and I see the fading remains of his terror, but he offers his most reassuring smile and it helps settle me a bit. Sensei can help him. Whatever is going on, Sensei can—

“Raphael.” Splinter speaks softly as my younger brother finally stirs, pulling away from my grasp with his eyes fixed squarely on my stomach. “Are you alright?”

He mumbles a stifled “M’fine” as he turns away and wipes the tears from his face. I try not to stare, I know he get embarrassed about this sort of thing, but I can’t take my eyes off him until I know he’s alright.

“Can you tell us what happened?”

Sensei’s tone is endlessly patient, and yet void of patronization. Someday he’ll have to teach me how he does that.

He almost starts to speak, but his eyes clip mine and he clams up again.

“I can go,” I offer, despite everything in me not wanting to. “so you two can talk.”

Raph doesn’t say anything, but he stares at me intently. There’s clear desperation in his body, I just can’t tell if it’s for me to stay or leave.

“Perhaps—” Sensei doesn’t get to finish his sentence before there’s a loud, horrified shout, coming near the dojo door.

“LEO!? Leo where ARE YOU!?!”

“In here.” I call, noting that his voice is getting more terrified with each word. The minute he spots me, I see the same anguish. The same heart-stopping pain that the others had. He’s radiating it. “Mikey…”

His eyes are already filled with tears. My chest tightens at the sight of him.  

“LEO!”

He stumbles into the room, tripping over his own feet as he falls down beside me, immediately clamping his arms around my neck and hugging for all he’s worth.

It takes a good amount of effort not to fall over, but I keep us both upright as best I can as he squeezes the oxygen right out of me. “Can’t breathe, Mikey.” I’m fully expecting him to come back at me with a quip or a joke of some sort, but he doesn’t say anything. He just kneels beside me, arms wrapped around so tight I can’t move, and sobbing into my shoulder so hard you’d think his whole world just collapsed. “Mike…”

“L-Leo… You… Y-You’re here. You’re… Y-You were—” He blubbers incoherently between sobs.

I want to comfort, but I still don’t understand what’s going on. Maybe words aren’t what he needs right now. Maybe he just needs big brother. I fold one arm around his shell and place my other hand on his head, holding him close and letting him weep. “It’s okay, Mikey… I’m okay.”

I take a deep breath—or as deep a breath as I can manage with my baby brother coiling around me like a snake—and let it out slowly, continuing the pattern in the hopes that Mikey will follow suit and calm his crying a little. It takes a few more minutes, but eventually it works. And after a few deep breaths and trailing whimpers he releases his strangle hold and grasps my shoulders, pulling back to look me over with tears still pouring from his eyes and sobs only barely held at bay in the back of his throat.

“Are you okay!? Are you hurt!? Don’t you dare try to hide it, if you’re hurt you have to tell us now!”

“I’m fine.” But he’s not listening as his eyes fall to my stomach, staring at it with horror like it’s the source of all his worst nightmares.

Just like Raph.

I reach my hands up to cup his face and force him to look at me. “Mikey, I’m okay. Nothing happened to me. I wasn’t even overexerting while training. Here—” I place his hand on my neck so he can feel my pulse, making sure it’s nice and steady despite my concern. “See? Perfectly healthy.”

His eyes are still wide and worried. “You’re sure? You’re not… You’re…”

“I’m fine. I promise.”

He doesn’t even hesitate for a moment. The words barely leave my lips and he buries himself in my chest, arms wrapped around my shell in a vice grip again as the tears fall freely. I’m hoping this time it’s more relief than anything else.

I stroke his shell like I do to soothe him when he’s sick. It takes another few minutes, but he eventually calms down and relaxes into a gentler hold.

I glance beside me to see how Raph’s doing, but he immediately averts his eyes to floor. Anywhere but on me. There’s something in his body language that’s bothering me. Something he’s trying to hide or doesn’t want to admit. Something… guilty?

“What happened, Leo? Why did it feel like you were gone?” Mikey whispers, his voice heavy with fear.  

“We have asked that very same question, my son.” Sensei, thankfully, answers first.

“You guys felt it too?”

“Yes.” Sensei nods grimly. “It came out of nowhere, but it was incredibly… real. The fact that all three of us felt it so potently means it cannot have been a figment or a trick. But what could cause such a sensation?”

Mikey looks to our angrier brother and prods gently. “You too? You felt Leo… go?”

Raph doesn’t reply. Just folds his arms in front of his chest and glares deeper at the floor.

“Was it his stomach?”

Raph’s eyes whip over to Mikey’s with intensity and fear rippling through them.

Mikey only nods solemnly, apparently getting all the confirmation he needed from that reaction. But neither of them elaborate, so I have to ask.

“What about my stomach?”

“I don’t know.” Mikey lowers his head back to my chest as he talks, like he’s listening for a heartbeat. “I think… I think you were hurt there. I remember seeing blood on your stomach. Or feeling it? I don’t… I don’t know… it was so real, but so vague at the same time. The only thing I knew for sure was that you were…” His arms tighten around me as his voice trails off, unable or unwilling to finish the thought.

I pat his shell to reassure him I’m still alright, but I’m too lost in my own thoughts to comment or comfort. None of this makes any sense. We don’t have any enemies that can toy with our emotions like this, so it can’t be an outside force. And all of them felt the same thing at the same time, so it can’t be a hallucination or something internal.

Even if it was, that still wouldn’t explain the apparition of Raph that I saw. Reaching for me with desperation in every muscle and terror in every feature.

I shake my head. Clearly this isn’t something we can solve at the moment. But I can still try to take the fear from them. Distract them from it. At least for a bit. “Well whatever it was, it’s gone now. I’m okay,” I pat Mikey’s head to make sure he looks at me as I say it. “we’re all safe, so I say we take our minds off it all with a movie marathon. Mikey’s choice.”

That perks him up a bit, though not as much as I thought it would. And he’s still not letting go of me.

“Marvel movie marathon?”

He asks, only a hint of excitement in his voice. This sort of thing would normally get him completely riled up.

“An excellent idea, my sons.” Sensei places a gentle hand on Raph’s shoulder, his voice back in that space of understanding without sounding patronizing that I can never achieve. “Would you join us, Raphael?”

He still doesn’t say anything—hasn’t said a word this entire time and it’s making every nerve in my body stand on edge—but he moves to stand, I think waiting for us to go first.

“Come on, Mikey.” I say as I gently remove my baby brother enough so I can stand. He still keeps his arms glued around my torso, but at least I can move. “Which one do you want to watch fir—?”

I don’t get to finish because there’s a large flash of light in front of us that comes out of nowhere. I pull my brother behind me and stand in front of my family, my katanas unsheathed in an instant. With my nerves as on edge as they are, it takes a few seconds for me to recognize the person who steps out of the light.

Mikey makes the connection first, stepping from behind me with an understandable amount of surprise in his voice. “Renet?”

“Oh thank the multi-verse, you’re all okay!” She lunges in to hug Mikey while I step away and sheath my swords. “I’m so sorry! I’m so SO sorry! I swear I didn’t mean to! Can you ever forgive me!?”

Mikey looks to the three of us who all shrug in unified confusion. He pats her back. “Uh, sure! What are we forgiving you for?”

My nerves finally calm enough for my mind to think clearly. “That was you? You’re the reason they all thought I was dead?”

Sensei had clearly already put it together, but the other two stare in shock. Or in Raph’s case, anger.  

“Yes.” She says sheepishly as she pulls away and rubs her arm, obviously embarrassed and upset by the whole thing. “It was an accident, I swear! I never meant for the two to touch, and it was only for a second! I wasn’t even sure you guys would feel anything, I thought maybe you would have thought it was a dream like the other guys did, but as soon as everything was aligned again I came right here to make sure you were alright, and—gosh, I’m so so sorry! That must have been—I can’t even imagine having to feel all that when you’re not—I’m so—”

“Ms. Renet,” Master Splinter thankfully interrupts her tirade with a calm tone, gesturing towards the door. “Perhaps you could explain in full over a cup of tea.”

She scolds herself again before turning to Sensei with another apology in her eyes. “Yes, I’m sorry, I’m ahead of myself again, aren’t I? Tea would be great.”

We all head towards the kitchen, Mikey moving in step beside me so he can latch onto my arm again, fear of whatever Renet did still clearly lingering in his mind. Raph follows behind, head down and eyes wide, too curious to stay behind but too embarrassed—or frightened or… something—to make any sort of eye contact.

Just keep calm. I’m sure it wasn’t a big deal. Everyone will be back to normal within the hour.

I can’t get Raph’s tears out of my mind…

“I was only trying to take a closer look, but I must have bumped the timeline ever so slightly. It shifted and overlapped with yours for a second. Simultaneous fixed it right away, but by then I guess you guys had already felt the effects.” She taps the side of her tea cup nervously, apology number twenty five about to leave her lips, when Mikey cut in. 

“So… what we felt… it really happened? In that other timeline?”

“Yes.”

“Then they… they were really feeling all that. The other us’s. In that world, they were feeling all those things we felt.” His voice is so tentative, had I not been looking, I never would have guessed it was Mikey talking. “Because something happened to their Leo… right?”

Renet takes a long moment to think. Unusual for her, but I’m guessing she was trying to avoid causing any more trouble by answering things she shouldn’t. Finally, she nods her head.

I have so many questions about the whole thing, but I know better than to ask. I know what I need to: the others felt something I didn’t, which means they were all alive in that other timeline to feel it. So whatever happened, they were safe.

That’s all that ever matters to me.

Mikey grips my hand, pulling me from my thoughts, as he asks the question he’s been trying to ask for ten minutes. “Is… Is their Leo dead?”

I think we all know the answer, but there’s still a palpable tension as we wait for Renet to respond. She only nods her head solemnly, but the solid confirmation still seems to steal the air from the room.

Suddenly everyone’s eyes are on me and I can feel my skin crawling from the attention. But I don’t say anything. Not even as Mikey moves my arm to wrap himself around my torso in a hug I doubt I’ll be free from any time soon. Whatever they need for comfort, I want to be here. Even if I hate how they’re looking at me…

“How did it happen?”

It’s the first time Raph’s spoken since the dojo. Renet shifts uncomfortably in her seat, clearly still warring with how much information to tell and how much to hold back. “I don’t think I should—”

“How?”

Raph’s tone doesn’t exactly brook room for an argument, but I don’t think we should get into details. Mikey’s going to be having nightmares as it is. “Maybe it’s best if we—” but I stop as soon as I catch Raph’s gaze. He needs this… he needs to know. I don’t know why, but if it’ll help… “—just get the basics. We don’t need any details.”

Renet gives me a look, silently asking if I really think she should. I honestly don’t want her to, but this isn’t about me, is it? I give her a subtle nod.

“He…” She begins quietly, looking at everyone before she speaks as if waiting for an objection. “He was shot. By a Purple Dragon.”

I glance around to see everyone’s reaction. Mikey flinches like he could feel the bullet himself. Sensei breathes out a long breath, like he does when he’s trying to keep calm. Raph doesn’t react at all. His eyes fall back to the floor and his whole body tenses, but it was almost like he… anticipated the answer.

Renet waits a moment to allow it all to sink in before gulping in a deep breath. “I really should get back.” She stands, bowing to everyone. “I’m so SO sorry! It will never happen again, I swear!”

“Please Ms. Renet, do not apologize further.” Sensei comes beside her and pats her shoulder. “We do not fault you, it was an accident. And we appreciate you coming to explain. It is a great weight off our shoulders to not be left wondering what it was.”

That seems to relax her a bit, but one glance back at Mikey and Raph puts the regret right back on her face.

“Thanks Renet.” I can’t stand with Mikey gripping me like he is, but I offer her a sincere smile. “Circumstances aside, it was nice to see you again.”

“You too.” She smiles back, waving to everyone once more before activating her scepter and disappearing without a trace.

Silence descends on the lair again. Everyone too lost in their thoughts to speak.

I just feel… relieved. Morbid though it may be, It’s incredibly comforting to know that my brothers are all safe, even in other worlds. That I’m the one to be taken, not them.

I’ll never say it out loud. It would only upset them.

I wait a few more minutes for everyone to process before placing my hand on Mikey’s head to get his attention. “Hey, why don’t we make tonight a camp out? We can pile our beds in the living room for our movie marathon and sleep there tonight.”

“Together?”

I nod, noting the fear still radiating from him.

“Can we order pizza?”

“It’s not a camp out without pizza.”

He’s still distracted, still gripping my am like he can’t let go, but his eyes light up a bit. “I call dibs on picking the first movie!”

“You’ll have to be quick then,” We all start moving to the living room, away from the conversation with Renet. “I think it’s Don’s turn to—”

We all suddenly gasped in a breath, freezing in our tracks.

I’d been so preoccupied with—I hadn’t even thought of—

“Where is Donatello?” Splinter asks, keeping a composed face.  

“April’s.” Mikey pipes in quickly, long past not trying to be frantic. “He said they were working on some new formula or machine or something.”

I take a subtle breath trying to collect myself before calming the room . “Let’s not panic. Maybe he didn’t feel it like you guys did. Maybe you had to be in the room or something.” I’m not even convincing myself. “Otherwise he’d have tried to call one of us.”

I left my phone in the dojo when I went to confront Raph, so I look to my two younger brothers intently.

Mikey feels around himself. “I think I left mine in my room.”

We turn to Raph who has already reached for his phone, the screen blank and black. “I… turned it off before I left the lair.”

So I wouldn’t be able to call him, I’m sure. Not the time for that now.

We wait entirely impatiently as he turns it on, the screen lighting up and taking eons to load.

Thirty-two missed texts.
Seventeen missed calls.

“Oh god, Donnie…” Mikey whispers with worry engulfing his tone again. “He must think you’re…!”

Again, he doesn’t finish the sentence.

I no longer have patience enough to sit here and wait. “How long has it been since this all started?” Maybe I can catch him before he leaves Aprils.  

“Thirty minutes or so.” Sensei replies. He places a hand on my shoulder, reading my mind the way only he can do. “Let us give him a call first. He may already be on his way home.”

I don’t want to wait. I want to make sure he’s alright. But I feel guilty arguing with any of them after the night they’ve had, so I nod and turn back to Raph, hoping he’s already dialed.

He doesn’t even get the number punched in before there’s a loud, desperate, cry from the garage entrance.

“LEO!”

“Don, I’m here! I’m—”

He rounds the corner into view and my chest lurches at the sight of him. He looks haggard and exhausted, eyes red, cheeks stained with tears, and puffing like he’s just finished running a marathon. His eyes lock on mine immediately, shock and terror still plastered there for all to see.

“Leo!”

I think he meant to run to me, but his legs collapse beneath him as soon as he moves. I barely have time to stop him from unceremoniously crashing to the floor with my shoulder under his arm and my hand on his chest. “Whoa, Donnie, easy! Take a breath.”

“You’re here! You’re—”

He’s cut off by a sudden sob, and I can tell he’s been holding it in for a while. I should have thought to call him earlier. The way he’s looking at me with such pain… I can’t…

My arms grip him in a solid hug, both to hold him up and to let him know I’m really here. I won’t let go until he’s ready. Until he’s let his panic wash through him.

Sensei lets us have a moment before coming beside Don and placing a hand on his shell. “Your brother is alright, my son. It was not his loss you felt.”

Don’s clearly not convinced. He suddenly pulls from my grip, grabs my shoulders with both hands, and begins scanning every inch of me for injury. “What happened!? Why didn’t anyone answer their phone!? Was it something to do with wherever Raph ran off to tonight?”

“No, nothing like that.” I notice Raph flinch away at the accusation but remain quiet. Odd. Normally he’d opt for a more audibly defensive reaction. “I’m sorry, Don. It was—”

“Where are you hurt? What was it, a gun or a knife? What…” His voice trails off as his gaze falls to my stomach, staring the same way Mikey and Raph had earlier.

“It’s okay dude.” Mikey pipes in, maybe he noticed the same look. “It’s a crazy story, but it ends with Leo being okay. Well, our Leo…” His eyes fall a bit as Don blinks in confusion.

“Our Leo?”

“Let us have a seat.” Sensei ushers us into the living room, encouraging Don to take some more deep breaths before Mikey launches into a full explanation. It’s a lot to take in, but Don seems to follow with no trouble. He listens intently, his eyes flitting across all three of us, and always landing on me. I can tell he’s fluctuating through a gambit of emotions, but by the end of the tale there’s at least a small hint of relief.

Though not as much as I had hoped.

“That makes sense, I suppose.” He finally replies, his gaze landing on me for the umpteenth time. He sits in silence a moment before asking. “What happened to their Leo?”

Everyone’s eyes seem to find the floor at the same time. Not mine. I don’t mind saying it. Though I try to sound as delicate as I can, for their sakes. “He was shot during a mission. Apparently he didn’t make it.”

Again, Don does the same thing Mikey did, his eyes finding my stomach and staring.

I stand from the couch. “I am not him. I am perfectly fine. So I’m going to go order the pizza. You guys can get the beds set up.”

I leave as quick as I can without drawing attention, subtly avoiding Mikey on my way out so he doesn’t have a chance to glom onto my arm again.

I need a minute away from their looks of pain and fear.

I need a minute to breathe without them staring.

I need them to be okay again.

By the time I get back with pizza in hand (thanks to a very concerned April, who stayed behind in the kitchen to hear the explanation from Master Splinter) the living room is piled full with futon mattresses, mounds of pillows, and just about every blanket in the lair.

Mostly Mikey’s doing, I assume.

Don looks like he’s getting the TV set up, albeit with less dexterity than usual.

And Raph doesn’t look like he’s moved. At all. He’s just sitting there, staring at the floor again, shoulders hunched and fists tense. He looks like a rubber band about to snap. But it’s not anger tensing his muscles—I’ve seen that enough to know the difference—this looks more defeated. Guilty. And for the life of me, I can’t figure out why. Is he embarrassed about crying in front of me? Did the events of tonight make him feel bad about running off before hand?

I want to ask. Whatever weight has settled on his shoulders that’s holding him down like this, I want to take it. But I also don’t want to poke the bear, so I hold my questions for another time.

“Pizza’s here.” I announce, not at all excited to have their eyes back on me. Mikey doesn’t leap over furniture to nab the first slice and if that isn’t an indication of how down they still are, nothing is. “Movie ready?” They nod, but no one offers any further comment and shell I wish I could just snap them out of this. “Which one did you go with?”

“Iron Man. I like it when Don points out in detail the corrections needed to make Tony’s suit in real life.” Mikey says, more mechanically than anything else. No enthusiasm or mockery in his tone at all.

“Sounds like fun.” Patience. Give them time. They’ll forget about this and get back to normal soon. Let them process.

I sit in the middle of the couch, fully expecting Mikey to want to cuddle and Don to be close, if not touching. They do, sitting on either side of me, Mikey not hesitating to wrap around my arm and snuggle in.

Raph doesn’t move from his spot.

I can’t help a small sigh. Patience.

The movie starts and I send a silent prayer to the universe that this is enough of a distraction for them to return to some semblance of normal.

Please. Just wipe the pain away for a while.

But my pleas go unanswered. We’re fifteen minutes into the movie and not a single person has said a word. Don hasn’t corrected any of the science, as was promised, Mikey hasn’t laughed at a single quip, and Raph seems to have one eye on the movie and one on the ground, bouncing between the two. I know for a fact I’ve never watched a movie in total silence before. Not with my brothers around.

I glance around at all three of them, not even having to look close to see the pain and fear still wiggling along the lines in their faces.

I can’t take it anymore. I have to do something.

“Okay, enough.” I announce loudly, pausing the movie and standing to face them. “Clearly we need to talk about this. There has to be something I can do to make you all feel better.” They look away and it takes far too much effort than it should for me to keep from shouting.

My patience is quickly unravelling into maddening worry.

There’s a long pause before Mikey—probably sensing how out of my mind I’m getting—speaks up. “We’re just… scared. That feeling was so real. It really felt like… like you were gone.”

“I’m not.” That came out a bit too curtly. I try again, softer. “I’m right here. And I don’t plan on going anywhere. So stop looking at me like I’m dying.” They all flinch at the word. “Please.”

It takes a long minute, but Don speaks up this time. “It may not have been you, but it’s very much something you would do.”

“What do you mean?”

“Leo, can you name a single mission where you haven’t done something risky to keep us safe?”

“Yes.”

Even Raph checks in long enough to fix me with a dead pan stare on that one.

“It’s not every mission.” I qualify, because I don’t appreciate the assumption that all my missions fail at some point. “But I get your point. What of it?”

“I’m just saying,” Don continues, a little more assertive this time. “That what happened to that other Leo isn’t out of the ordinary or the possible for you. You’re just as protective, just as thoughtless of your own life when we’re involved. So seeing it happen to another you—”

“How do you know I—he—was protecting you—them.” This is starting to give me a headache.

Don pauses to glance at Mikey who pulls his head back, like he hadn’t considered that. “I… I don’t know. You were on a roof, and you were shot in your…”

They all stare at my stomach again and it’s all I can do to not sigh loud enough for them all to hear.

“I don’t know how I know, I just do.” Mikey says firmly. “I know it was awful, I know it hurt so much I wanted to die, and after feeling all that, I know that if it happens to you, I’m never going to---” His voice cracks as tears brim in his eyes and my heart drops instantly.

Don scoots over on the couch to pull Mikey into a half hug, his own face a half-masked mirror of the pain now dripping down our baby brother’s cheeks.

I don’t know what to say. We’ve had this conversation before—alternate dimensional families aside—and there’s nothing more I can say on the matter. They’re my little brothers. I’m the eldest. The leader. And if I have to jump in front of a bullet to keep them safe, then I’ll absolutely do it. No regrets. And hearing that it happened to another me somewhere out there in another world doesn’t change that.

If anything, it solidifies it.

But none of that is what they want to hear right now.

I slowly release the breath I’ve been holding, crouching in front of Mikey on the couch. “I’m sorry,” I keep my voice as level and soft as I can. “I’m sorry you all had to experience that. And I’m sorry I can’t make you feel better about it. Because you’re right, I absolutely would do what that Leo did if it meant keeping you safe. That’s my job, my top priority, and I don’t begrudge it even a little bit. I’m sure he didn’t either.”

Mikey chokes on another sob and Don gives me an annoyed you’re-not-helping look.

Get to the point, Leo.

“But right now I’m here.” I place a hand on Mikey’s shoulder to draw his attention. “I’m here, I’m safe, and I plan to continue to be for a very long time. Until we’re old and hobbled and Don has crazy white hair like Einstein and Raph’s idea of a workout is climbing the stairs to his room.”

He chokes out a surprised laugh as Don chuckles and I smile at the small victory.

“You promise you’ll be around that long?”

Mikey’s using his big puppy eyes because he knows I have troubles saying no to them.

But I don’t want to make empty promises just to make them feel better. “Mikey, I can’t promise. Bad things happen whether we want them to or not. Especially in our line of work. But you can’t live your life in fear. I’m constantly terrified that you’ll all get hurt on a mission, but that doesn’t make me keep you from going on them.” Once again Raph sends a glare my way, so I add a resigned “Mostly.”

“What I can promise,” I continue. “Is that I will do my best to keep myself safe. I will keep martyrdom and self-sacrifice as an absolute last resort option only.” They still don’t seem convinced, so I give Mikey’s hand a light squeeze and sigh before admitting. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t want to leave you either. I’d miss my brothers. Even the loud angry one over there.”

“He means you, Don.” Mikey jokes and they both smile again.

Then Mikey slides off the couch and pulls himself against my chest, his arms wrapped tightly around my shell. I wasn’t expecting it, so it takes a moment for me to relax into the touch and let my arms fall around his shoulders. “We love you, Leo. So much.” He squeezes a bit tighter.

I don’t get a chance to reply before Don joins us on the floor, cloaking himself around my shoulders. I shift one arm to hug his shell as he says, “We’re so glad you’re still here.”

A smile creeps across my face, unbidden. I feel my brothers’ affection radiating like a heat wave. It’s immensely comforting, despite my distaste for this type of attention.

Only my brothers can make me feel this wonderful. This special. This necessary. I pull them in a little closer.

“I love you too, little brothers.” I look over to Raph, who is at least looking at us and not the floor. “All of you.” And his eyes fall away again.

One battle at a time.

Our group hug lasts a little longer than I’m used to, but I don’t dare break it. I don’t even want to imagine if I had felt one of them going…

Eventually we settle back on the couch and resume the movie. When Splinter and April join us, we’re half-way through, both Mike and Don chatting away as they usually would, and the world is finally feeling right again.

Mostly.

I peek in Raph’s direction to see him at least looking at the movie, if not really watching it.

As the night goes on, April heads home after a phone call from Casey (who had apparently been asleep and thought the whole thing was a crazy nightmare) and Sensei heads off to bed. He runs a hand fondly over my head on his way out, offering me a smile that just gushes relief and love. I send a silent smile back.

Around the time we start our third movie (Thor, since Mikey insisted we watch in order) we’ve shifted to laying on the mattresses and pillows. Mikey promptly falls asleep laying across my lap like a cat. Not the most comfortable position for me propped up on some pillows, but I’m not going to complain. Don follows suit shortly after, leaning against my left arm with his head on my shoulder and his hand on my wrist, like he’d been keeping track of my pulse. Only one brother remains, and he still hasn’t moved from his spot on the couch.

Now’s my chance, I suppose. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

His body language affirms his response, his arms folding tighter and his shoulders hunching higher. I want to let it go, let him work through it however he wants, but I can’t get the image of him crying in the dojo out of my mind. There has to be something I can do. There has to.

So I walk into the lions den.

“I’m sorry… that you had to go through all—”

“I said, I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Okay.” I give it a moment. “You know I won’t tell anyone about—”

“Dammit Leo!” He stands, his hands already curled into fists and anger rippling through his shoulders. “I don’t wanna talk about—”

“Okay!” I use a forced whisper and gesture with my free hand at our two sleeping siblings before giving him the ‘shh’ finger. “I just think it would be healthy to discuss it now rather than later. But if you’d prefer to brood, then go ahead. Just be quiet about it.”

He doesn’t sit back down.

The movie continues and I do my best to at least look like I’m staring at the TV and not Raph. He’s moved beside the couch so I can’t see him in my periphery now, but I can still feel his tension looming. Can almost hear his muscles tensing.

I should back off. I’m clearly not helping. But he hasn’t stormed off yet. If he really didn’t want to talk, he’d have stomped off to his room, knowing I can’t move with our brothers asleep on top of me.

Maybe just one more poke.

“If you won’t talk to me, you should at least talk to Sensei—”

“For the love of— I don’t want to talk about it! Ever! I don’t want to relive it, okay!? Not with you, not with Sensei, not with anyone!”

“Okay.” His defensiveness is different. Less angry and more fearful. And there’s that underlying current of something again. Guilt, maybe? “But—"

“What!?” He interrupts, probably expecting me to lecture.

“Just… I’m here. If you need to talk or vent or anything… I’m here."

I shift enough so I can partially see his face and it’s pale, like he’s seen a ghost. His eyes go wide, his hands clench tight, and he looks like he wants to run screaming from the room.

Oh shell, is it happening again!?

Before I can ask, he closes his eyes, grits his teeth, and snarls in a long breath, turning away so I can only see his shell. “Still here…”

A long stretch of silence follows. I don’t dare speak. I can see his fists trembling ever so slightly.

“It’s what you said…” He finally says, his voice rough and jagged, almost quaking like his hands. “What he said to me—the other me—before he…"

I want to ask the obvious question, but I wait, almost holding my breath while silently wishing to calm his.

“It was my fault.”

His voice is so small, guilt like a tidal wave almost drowning it out.

“I could only get pieces of it, but I saw… You were protecting me. You—he—got shot protecting me—the other me.” He rubs a hand down his face in frustration before sighing roughly. Sadly. “It was my fault. And I…”

He finally turns to face me, his eyes finding my stomach and staring intently. His face is laden with pain and fear and heartache, just like it was in the dojo earlier.

Oh Raph.

“You protectin’ me when I didn’t ask for it is nothing new.” He continues, slowly, deliberately. It’s clearly taking effort to get his emotions in check. “But I never… I never thought you’d… because of me… I never… I mean what if it had happened tonight? What if you following me got you…” He turns his back to me again. “The guilt and the pain, I felt it all through him. The other me. I felt it… and I know, I couldn’t live with myself if—"

His voice cracks and it takes every ounce of control I have not to wiggle out from Mike and Don and run over to him.

He’d probably hate that anyway.

Silence settles over the room.

I can feel Raph from here, feel his fear radiating out. He’s really scared. For me. My stubborn, angry, closed off younger brother, was crying in the dojo because he’d thought he’d lost me. And he thought it was his fault.

“I’m sorry.” I face forward again, distracting myself with the movie as I speak. “I’m sorry I do that. Play martyr, I mean. Jump in front of danger.”

He scoffs. “No you’re not.”

“I am. Not for being protective,” I think I’ve made that very clear. “But for not thinking about how much my choices would affect you all. I guess… I guess I sometimes…” I pause, not really wanting to admit to this at all. But he’s had to be open with me today, seems only fair to return the favor. “I sometimes forget that you all care about me as much as I do you.”

I can’t see his face, but I hear the sharp inhale he takes. He’s either angry, shocked, or both.

Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. “I’m not trying to point fingers or say you don’t show it. I know you all care. It’s just… I spend so much time playing leader with you all—making sure Mikey trains, making sure Don sleeps, making sure you don’t run off—that I sometimes forget that I’m also a brother. That you guys want me for more than just leadership.” Even now that voice of doubt wants to creep in.

“Leo…” Mikey whispers in his sleep, almost on cue, as he shifts in my lap. I put a hand to his shell to help settle him, let his subconscious know I’m still here. The movement prompts Don’s hand to squeeze mine tighter while still lost to slumber. The way they both cling to me now, the way they looked at me before…

I can’t believe I ever doubted.

“I have no desire to die, Raph. Not anytime soon, anyway. I’d be too afraid of being without you all. I…” The day must be getting to me, because I feel tears welling in my eyes that I quickly pat down. “I really am nothing without my brothers. I’d miss you… all of you. Desperately.” I don’t know if I said that loud enough for him to hear. But it felt good to say it out loud.

Raph is silent.

I turn to find the space where he stood now empty. He must have had enough and gone to bed. Can’t say I blame him. I hope he’s okay… I hope some of what I said got through.

I just want him to be—

Suddenly something removes the pillows from behind me and presses against my shell. I turn enough to see Raph’s bandana tails on my shoulder as he sits shell to shell with me on the mattress.

It takes a long moment for him to speak. And when he does, it’s soft and quiet. Like he’s hoping I won’t hear it. “We’d miss you, too. You. Not your leadership or whatever… you. We need you, Leo.”

I take a moment to let that sink in, my shoulders releasing some of their tension.

Raph abruptly raps the back of his head against mine, his voice back to it’s usual gruff gravel. “If you think we’d be okay without you, you’re an idiot.”

“You’d manage.”

“We’d hate it.”

“I know.”

Another long silence follows, and I can feel Raph relaxing more and more against my shell. I lean into the contact.

Glancing down at Mikey and over to Don, a smile tugs at my lips as I feel a warmth spread readily through my chest. Pragmatic as I am, I’m not always one to see the positives in a situation (I look to Mikey for that), but I will never not be grateful for the family I’ve been blessed with. For my brothers. They can be annoying, mean, and a downright pain in the shell, but they are truly the greatest gift I’ve been given.

I love them more than I know how to say.

And moments like this, moments when I see they love me just as much, are the moments I feel most unworthy. Most grateful.

I lean my head back to rest on Raph’s, one hand on Mikey’s shell and one held by Don, and I breathe deep, my smile growing wider as I close my eyes to everything else.

“We’re glad you’re still here.”

“Me too, guys. Me too…”