Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandoms:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2022-09-28
Completed:
2022-10-04
Words:
1,440
Chapters:
2/2
Comments:
30
Kudos:
270
Bookmarks:
68
Hits:
2,892

By now

Summary:

Leonardo is fifteen when he is ambushed on the rooftops. With tooth and nail, his family drags him to safety. With tears and soft words, they drag him back to them.

Leonardo is seventeen when they face Oroku Saki for the last time. The family accepts their death. They survive.

Leonardo is unreachable.

____________________

A delve into the two times Leonardo faced major trauma, and how differently he was able to handle them. The second time is not always easier.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter 1: By now

Chapter Text

Leonardo is fifteen when he is ambushed on the rooftops. He fights and runs, and fights, until there's nothing left. And he loses.

He falls.

With tooth and nail, his family drags him to safety. With tears and soft words, they drag him back from the brink. A part of Leonardo wonders, if they should have left him there.

Leonardo has never been hurt like this before. He moves slowly, gingerly around the farmhouse, pain lingering in every part of his body. He doesn't know how to talk about it. None of them have ever been hurt like this before. His brothers look at him with wide eyes and their touches linger to reassure. For their own benefit just as his.

Leonardo feels fragile. He doesn't know how to talk about it. The knowledge, that he was doomed from the start. How in the end, all his training to be ready for anything, amounted to nothing. Being thrown aside like he was worthless. If Leonardo looks into his brother's wide eyes for too long, lingers in their touches, he feels like he's going to shatter.

So he runs to the barn. There he sits behind a bale of hay hunched on himself. In the warmth and dim light of the furnace, he hides from the world. He doesn't want to think about anything, but his mind always ends up at the rooftops. He feels so foolish, for ever thinking he was ready for anything.

He doesn't feel like he's ready to do anything anymore.

Leonardo bites his lip, tries to hold it in, but hidden from the world, he cries.

 

 

 

Hours later, his brother comes to find him. The tears have stopped, but the tracks are still visible on his mask, on his cheeks. Raphael is next to him, hand on his good shoulder, face inches away from his. "Are you hurt?" he asks and Leonardo shakes his head. Not like that. Raphael settles next to him, side flush with his. He doesn't say anything and Leonardo looks away.

After a while Leonardo feels his brother shift. He steals a peek at him, and then he's unable to look away. Raphael is gazing at him, intensity, yet softness in his eyes. He doesn't ask, but he is reaching out. He is feeling for his brother, sympathizing with his pain and sadness. Willing Leonardo to understand, that his family is here for him. It makes something in Leonardo to crumble.

His breath hitches and he tears his eyes away, pinching them shut instead as he tries to gather his voice. To put into words, what he's been feeling, what needs to be said. It comes out as a stuttered whisper.

"I didn't want to die."

At the last syllable his voice pitches and Leonardo truly breaks down. Raphael wraps his arms around him and holds him, firm and strong. "I know." He soothes, cradling Leonardo's head on his shoulder with one hand and rubbing his shell with the other. "You're here. We're all here. It's going to be okay." And despite the fear and the shame, Leonardo feels like it's going to be okay. Being in his brother's arms feels good. Crying about it feels good.

Raphael takes Leonardo back to the farmhouse, holding his arm for support. They walk slowly, for Leonardo is still recovering and he's gathering his courage. In the living room, he greets his family in a way he hasn't recently. It's shy, tentative, but he's reaching out. The others get over their surprise quickly and receive him warmly, hope and joy in their eyes.

He's settled on the couch, a soft blanket draped over his shoulders. Michelangelo snuggles to his right side, laying his head on the nook of his shoulder. Donatello takes the other side and gently grasps his hand in camaraderie. Raphael sentries himself on the arm of the sofa, watching over them. Their father sits on the chair across from them as April brings hot drinks for everyone and Casey puts more wood into the fireplace. They spend the evening like that. Chatting amiably amongst themselves, enjoying and cherishing the fact they are all together.

Leonardo rests, sandwiched between two brothers, emptied teamug loosely in his hand. He feels warm and safe. He's still not quite sure how to talk about it. But it feels good to be with his family. It feels good to be loved. He might not be able to open up about it just yet, at least for the whole audience. But he'll do it little by little, maybe for one family member at a time. Tomorrow he'll tell them, that he's glad they brought him back, Leonardo thinks as his eyes slowly drift shut. Somebody picks the mug from his hand while another drapes an arm across his chest and nuzzles closer. A third one adjusts the blanket, snug under his chin.

Leonardo feels peace.

 

 

 

 

Leonardo is seventeen, when they face Oroku Saki for the last time. The spaceship is a one-way ticket. Leonardo accepts his death. Accepts his family's death.

They survive.

There's nothing to talk about. His brothers look at him with wide eyes. They're shocked and confused, unable to comprehend what has taken over him. Leonardo ignores them, their looks. There is nothing to talk about. There is only duty, only action that needs to take place so that it won't happen again.

Leonardo doesn't cry. He can feel his eyes stinging, the pressure behind them, the muscles around them pinching, but the tears won't come. Leonardo has been wrung dry. He's pulled taut like leather, sinevy and unyielding, yet ready to snap at any second. There's no softness left.

Leonardo's mind is in a perpetual state of fight or flight. He goes through days in a haze, looking for enemies behind corners and flinching at loud noises. There's a constant hum of static in his head, a distracting cacophony that makes it hard to think. His eyes feel fuzzy and he's constantly squinting, yet at the same time his mind is crystal clear. It's so clear and so sharp that he can't sleep, even when he feels like he's going to collapse from exhaustion.

Leonardo hardly eats. He doesn't hunger for food. Instead, he finds satisfaction in hacking away at his wooden training post. At the unfortunate crooks that cross his path. Hitting things has never felt this good. He keeps beating on his foes long after the fight is over, until his knuckles are bloody and his brothers drag him away. Leonardo hungers for the silence that follows in the wake of violence. When the only things his mind has to think about are his swords and the bodies he needs to cut down. Leonardo hungers, until he's torn apart anything that could potentially hurt his family. Maybe he'll stop starving once he's hacked himself away too.

After Shredder's spaceship, there were no tears and heartfelt stories on the side of a sickbed. There was no vigil over a comatose older brother. Their brother isn't fighting his way back to them, against a body that's trying to shut down. Leonardo is alive and wide awake, yet he's unreachable, turning his back to them. The comfort they try to offer only repels him, making Leonardo feel dirty and even less deserving.

He's not going to talk about it. It's not their burden to bear. It's his and his alone, for Leonardo is the one who invited failure to their home. It's his old friend and he should have known better by now, to not let it stay. He should have chased it away the first time it came to his door, on that day on the rooftops. This time should have been different. This time he should have been ready for anything.

Yet he wasn't.

Maybe foolishness is bound to be his other companion, just like the failure that refuses to leave his side. Maybe it's foolish to think he could be ready for everything. Maybe it's naive and utterly arrogant of him. Even so, Leonardo cannot stop chasing after it. If he lets it go, who will hold the barrier between his family and the horrors of the outside. If he stops running, everything will catch up to him. The fear. The shame. The feeling of helplessness. The tears of a vulnerable turtle, who was comforted in the arms of his brothers. Who wanted to reach out and feel loved.

Leonardo has to leave that turtle behind. He's a deadweight that cannot be carried anymore.

That turtle is gone now.
Just like Leonardo's peace.

Chapter 2: Raph comforting Leo - illustrations

Chapter Text

Raph finding Leo in the barn and comforting him.

Notes:

If you're on tumblr, you might have come across the comic and analysis I made about Leonardo's trauma after the ambush and after Exodus.
You can see the post in here https://at.tumblr.com/ruija/ruija-full-comic-under-read-more-keep-reading-op/ph3ap26ewthl

It's a topic that greatly fascinates me and I wanted to explore it more in this fic. I'm also itching to draw more about it, so it's likely I'll post some illustrations linked to this fic later. I'll post them as separate chapters and on tumblr, so keep an eye out for that!