Work Text:
Don't go hurting yourself
Just take it out on somebody else
There's always better ways than this
I beg you to wait for the sun to rise again
Karai was strong until she let herself be weak.
It had started happening ever since she got back to the lair. Now, she was living there full-time. Her mutation was under control, the brainworm was gone, and Karai was free from Shredder’s grasp. But not free from his shadow.
Most of the time, things were fine, and Karai was integrating herself quite well into the household. Of course, it was a learning curb for all of them, having someone else live there full time. But for a while April had practically been a permanent tenant, so it wasn’t like the turtles were completely unfamiliar with having a new face around.
She’d train with Leo in the dojo. She’d eat pizza and watch movies with Mikey. She’d throw friendly jabs at Raph as they sparred. She’d take an interest in Donnie’s inventions, more than his brothers ever had.
Things were nice and normal.
Most of the time.
Then there were the times she wouldn’t come out of her room all day, sometimes for days on end. Leo would try talking to her through the door, or Mikey would try and persuade her out with promises of movies and pizza. At best she’d say she just wanted to be left alone. At worst she wouldn’t reply at all. Master Splinter had told his sons that she needed time and space to collect her thoughts. After all she’d been through, even before the mutation, it was a miracle she was doing as well as she was. It was a testament to her strength; she was a force of nature. But she wasn’t bulletproof. No-one was.
They’d leave food outside her door, and a hand would slide out and grab it. She’d skulk over to the bathroom now and again, not making eye contact with anyone, but forcing a smile if she did.
It was a process. They would give her the time and space she needed. It was a marathon, not a sprint.
Leonardo found this the hardest to grasp. It was in his nature to help, to see the problem and find the solution. Knowing someone was suffering, someone he cared so much for, and being unable to do anything about it, crushed him.
Fearing for her, there were times when he went against Karai’s wishes and pried her door open a crack. Sometimes there’d be quiet music playing, sometimes dead silence. Karai would be huddled on the bed, facing away from the door, but she could tell from the crack in her voice as she asked him to leave that she’d been crying.
Sometimes they’d hear a smash coming from her room; something had been broken. After the first time Karai broke two fingers punching the wall, she never did that again. Now it was ornaments, lamps… something they’d find in pieces in the garbage a few days later when she’d snapped out of it and cleaned up the debris.
Karai could be volatile at the best of times, but when the flame of anger was sparked by the hurt she was trying and failing to repress, it was that much worse. The first time Karai had smashed a vase, Leo had run in to see what the commotion was about, and was rewarded for his troubles by Karai throwing a lamp at his head. She missed, smashing it to pieces against the wall beside the door, and he hurried out after she screamed at him to leave.
The next day, she sheepishly apologised. Leo hadn’t taken it personally. He knew better than that.
Sometimes she’d leave the lair at night, then return home a few hours later, wobbling back into her room. Leo would wait up for her, unable to sleep until he knew she was back safely. He’d ask if she was okay. She’d slur her reply.
Occasionally when she left at night Leo would follow her. She caught him a few times, told him to go home, assure him that she was just getting some fresh air and not to worry so much. When she didn’t catch him, he’d follow her on the rooftops as she walked into a bar or a liquor store, more often than not preferring to take a bottle of whiskey and sit on a rooftop alone. He debated joining her, but worried that’d be too much. He didn’t want to get into a fight with her, which he knew he would, regardless of how good his intentions were.
Sometimes he heard her mumbling in her sleep, or wake up with a start at her screaming. Sometimes they’d all hear, dash out of their rooms to check what was happening, battle-ready seconds after being fully asleep. But one look from Leo and they’d retreat back to their rooms.
He’d look in on her, bring her a glass of water, ask if she wanted to talk about it.
She never did.
Sometimes she’d just be tossing and turning, mumbling in her restless slumber. Leo’s room was closest, and he’d hear the disturbance. Sometimes he’d press an ear against her door, debating whether to wake her from the bad dreams or let her ride it out herself.
When he chose the former, the reply was always the same.
“I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”
When he chose the latter, knowing he’d never get back to sleep, he’d instead slide down to the floor and rest against her door for the remainder of the night, like he was keeping guard.
But he couldn’t protect her from what’s inside her mind.
One time he awoke to her screaming, and by the time he got to her door, the sound he heard put a crack into his fragile heart.
Swallowing down the thick lump in his throat, he gently opened up the door and peered inside.
Karai was awake, mostly shrouded in shadow from the darkness of the room, but the glow from the living room shone a harsh picture on her tear-stained face. She was facing the door, gazing up at him with a broken stare. She wasn’t even trying to hold back the tears this time, her whole body convulsing as she shuddered and shook through the onslaught of emotions.
Leo’s heavy eyes met hers, and his mouth hung open helplessly, wishing he had the magic words that would fix everything, that would bring that beautiful smile back onto the face of the girl of his dreams.
All that he managed was, “D-Do you want to talk about it?”
Sniffing, Karai shook her head.
Leo knew the drill by now. He wished these episodes didn’t happen at all, let alone at the frequency they did. But when they did, he knew the routine. Smiling sadly, he went to leave.
“Don’t,” a weak, cracked voice called out to him. He turned back, looked down, and she was reaching out to him. Her head was lowered, her gaze averted. “Don’t… don’t leave.”
Leo’s heart thrummed in his ears. This was new. This was progress. Maybe… maybe she’d let him in? Open up. Give him a chance to help her! To talk and listen and-
Quickly, Leo caught himself. If he went too quickly, no doubt her walls would spring right back up. Leo knew how much Karai would hate to be treated with delicacy, but he had to do so anyway.
She shuffled over, and Leo sat down next to her, placing a large hand over one of her tiny little ones, studying her with a weighted gaze that bore no pity. There was only boundless love, care and concern in those ocean blue eyes.
Karai pulled back, and pulled him with her. The two laid down beside one another, facing one another, and Karai huddled into his shadow, clutching onto his hand like children clutch onto teddy bears to help them through violent storms. Leo wrapped his other arm over her back, drawing her nearer, and held her as she shook. He held her silently as she shivered and cried and cursed her existence. But before long, much sooner than normal, she fell back asleep. Maybe it was his presence, or maybe just the sheer exhaustion, but Karai fell asleep in his arms and slept through the rest of the night in peace.
Leo listened contently to the steady rhythm of her breathing, the slowing of her heart rate, and didn’t know whether to smile or cry. He wanted to do both.
It was going to take time, it was going to be painful, but he would be there for all of it. When Karai needed him, whether to talk and vent, or simply to hold her until she fell asleep, he’d be there for her. It was a promise he’d made to himself years ago, and he’d never renege on it. He loved her too much. Probably more than she’d ever know.
But all of those things were the worries of tomorrow. Right here, right now, he was doing all he could for Karai. Such a simple act was enough for her. And so, not long after her, Leo drifted off into a peaceful sleep too.
Because I've seen the sun rise on better days
There must be something in your heart that says that it's okay
Just talk to me, oh won't you just talk to me
Let go of what's inside